Page 35 of Illicit Heir

Tears rush down my cheeks. I wish they didn't, but I can't help it. I seethe, "How dare ya? Get out of here."

"I think ya owe me a kiss before I go."

I shove him, and he stumbles backward, surprised by the power of my push. I yell, "Get out of here, and don't ya dare ever come back, or ya will get killed!"

He scoffs. "Killed? Who's going to kill me? Are ya going to kill me, Lauren?"

"I'm warning ya," I threaten, but I know my threats are nothing for a man like him.

He steps closer and puts both hands on my face, pinning me between his body and the wall.

I can barely breathe, hating myself further how I'm not one hundred percent disgusted by him even though I know the truth about the blood that runs through him.

He stares at me for a second, then at my lips. He gives me a chaste kiss. "I will miss ya. I would've liked to have some more fun with ya."

"You're disgusting," I manage to get out, choking on my words.

His sinister smile reappears. "Ya didn't say I was disgusting last night or this morning."

"Get out," I say again.

He gives me another kiss, then releases me. He reaches into his pocket and tosses a wad of cash on the bed, declaring, "Have a nice life, Lauren Byrne." He opens the door to my flat.

I stare at the money, grab it, and follow him down the steps. I call out, "Ya forgot your money."

"Take it. Ya need it."

"I'm not your fucking prostitute!" I scream.

He gets to the bottom of the steps and turns. "Ya don't listen, Lauren. How many times have I said I know you're not a prostitute?"

I toss the wad of cash at him.

He lets it fall to the floor, and it disperses everywhere.

I snarl, "Pick up your money and go." I spin, run up the stairs, then shut and lock the door to my flat. I slide down to the floor and hug my knees.

I cry for too long with guilt, shame, and the most remorse I've ever had flooding my body.

6

Devin

The door slams, and I stare at the top of the staircase with my gut sinking. This isn't how I wanted things to end.

I reprimand myself for not taking my clothes into the bathroom.

How could I have left my wallet out?

Why did she even look at my wallet?

Nosy bird.

I continue staring at the door and almost go back upstairs but stop, forcing myself not to.

It's over.

It was always supposed to be like this anyway.

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