“Or me,” I reply firmly as I get up and head for my room.
“Speaking of which, I heard you got yourself into a bit of trouble.”
Her comment stops me in my tracks. A bit of trouble. That could mean two entirely different things, neither of which I want to talk about.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
“Oh, don’t act so coy,” my mom laughs. “Baron told me all about your little date.”
Whose date? Mine and Harry’s or mine and Baron’s?
Ugh. What am I talking about? Baron and I didn’t have a date. More like an assault.
“And what did he say?”
“He said he found you in the car of one very popular hockey star from your school,” she replies, sounding pleased with me. “But that he intervened because…reasons?”
Is my mom seriously upset that I didn’t hook up with Harry in his car just down the road from the house?
“Yeah…he said Harry’s like a sexual predator or something,” I reply. “So he like, pulled me out of the car and…”
My voice trails off. I can’t possibly go into what happened next. Baron told me if I tell, he’ll divorce my mom and throw us both out of the house. But why am I protecting an obviously loveless marriage that my mom herself isn’t being faithful to?
A pang of resentment catches me in my chest as I look at her, so smug about her little hidden relationship. Baron may be a monster, but at least he’s up front about it. Mom’s cheating on him and doesn’t seem to even feel remotely bad. In fact, she seems filled with glee, and I feel bad for him.
I shouldn’t. No one should feel bad for a monster. But I can’t help it. Nobody should be betrayed like that. But what am I saying? Baron forced me to strip for him, then forced me to climax, marked me with his release, and doesn’t seem to feel an ounce of remorse. Why should I care about whether my mom’s cheating on him? He doesn’t seem to like her anyway.
“He pulled you out of the car, and…?”
My mom’s voice shakes me out of my thoughts and I quickly reply. “And told me to stay away from him. You know, typical overprotective stepdad stuff.”
Why did I say that? Why don’t I just spill the beans? Why am I asking myself so many stinking questions!?
“Well, that’s his job.” My mom shrugs. “To look after his stepdaughter and make sure no one takes advantage of her.”
I honestly have to laugh at that one. I laugh so hard my cereal falls from my spoon. If only I could let her know just how funny that was. But I can’t, so I just grab my bowl and head upstairs to my room so I can eat in peace.
He may be gone, but Baron’s presence still lingers in the house like an unseen force. A ghost, ready to jump out and snatch me away when I least expect it. Just as I’m starting to dig into my cereal, I hear the sound of a phone vibrating behi
nd me. Baron took my phone, so it can’t be mine, but when I open the drawer of my nightstand, I see a phone there – not mine – buzzing with a call from an unknown number.
Hesitantly, I pick it up and answer.
“H—hello?”
“Hello, princess.” My blood chills instantly. It’s Baron.
“Who are you? Jason Bourne?” I ask. “Why not just give me my phone back?”
“So you can send nude selfies to pricks like Harry? I don’t fucking think so.”
God, he’s such a jerk. Doesn’t he know by now that I’m not that kind of girl?
“What do you want, Baron? And tell me quickly before I hang up on you.”
“I want you to go into your closet, find the dress and heels I left for you, put them on, and get in the car I’ll have coming to pick you up in an hour.”
Instantly, I get up and go to the closet. Sure enough, there’s a sleek black dress hanging up and a pair of stiletto heels on the floor beneath it.