There were no expensive shops or snooty restaurants here in Wishingbone.
Which Marisol actually loved. Wishingbone was still big enough to have everything but it still retained that small-town feel. Still, she didn’t understand it. Her aunt liked attention. Case in point, buying the most expensive, ostentatious house she could find.
It was so ugly, it hurt Marisol’s eyes.
But it showed her aunt for what she was. Totally classless and clueless. Rosalind thought money bought her respect and power. Marisol doubted it would impress the people in this town. The Jensen’s house was slightly smaller, but far nicer. You could tell they had money but it wasn’t pushed in your face.
They didn’t scream look at me.
Marisol had been hoping that Saber wouldn’t turn up here. She was certain small-town Montana wasn’t his thing either.
She should have known better than to think her aunt was done with him. There had to be some reason Rosalind moved here and she would bet it had everything to do with Saber and his gang of goons.
Marisol glared at his truck. She wasn’t allowed to put her car in the garage, she had to drive it around the back, even though she lived here. Wouldn’t do to let the neighbors see it. She hadn’t bothered to point out that they could easily spot her coming and going in it. She’d learned it wasn’t worth standing up to Rosalind. She held all the power.
Sometimes Marisol thought about just leaving. Walking away. There had to be a life out there for her, right?
There was just one problem. Money.
She had none. The small amount she’d managed to squirrel away might get her a bus ticket out of here and a few weeks in a cheap motel.
But it wouldn’t be enough to get her into even a cheap apartment.
And it definitely wouldn’t be enough to pay for her medication.
So here she was, stuck. Did she know her aunt was exploiting her? Course she did. Did she know that how she treated her was illegal? You bet. She wasn’t dumb. But what could she do? Report her? And where would that get her?
Homeless and on the streets. That’s where.
At least with her aunt, she had a house to live in, books to read and access to the medicine she needed.
Kind of important things.
She slid into the mudroom then out into the kitchen, listening carefully. Some thumps and moans came from the direction of the living room. Christ, she knew exactly what those sounds were. You didn’t grow up with Rosalind without hearing them plenty.
Why couldn’t they take things into the bedroom? Why did they have to fuck out in the open where anyone could see?
She was pretty certain her aunt was an exhibitionist. But, eww, the last thing she wanted was to see her aunt naked.
Or even worse, Saber.
Sure, he was okay looking for an older guy. In shape. But yuck, she really didn’t want to see his willy.
Willy. She whacked her hand over her mouth so she didn’t giggle. She’d been reading this romance written by a woman who lived in the UK and had seen the word. It made her laugh every time. She knew that was childish, but she needed something to lighten the tension flooding her.
She had three choices. She could go back outside and wait in the car until they were finished. That was problematic because if her aunt caught her walking in later, she was likely to get mad at her for being late.
Choice number two, wait in the kitchen until they’d finished. But that was basically as bad as waiting in the car, only she could hear them fucking in here.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Something smashed. Great. She was going to have to clean that up before her aunt got up in the morning. While her aunt might like to hump all over the house, without a care to being caught, she hated when things got broken. Usually because they cost a disgusting amount of money.
With a sigh, Marisol knew which choice she was going to go with. She would have to sneak past the living area to the stairs and hope they didn’t catch sight of her.
Right, Marisol, you can do this. You know how to move quietly when you want.
Yep. She’d had lots of practice.