“I don’t know what you want from me.”
“Funny, I could say the same. How can you flirt with me one second, then treat me like a walking STD the next?”
He snorted.
“I’m done with you,ese. There are plenty of guys who want me. I don’t need you and your Latin charm.” I turned on my heel and went to my car. Dammit, I was pissed-the-fuck-off. No man ever brought me down to this level. I was always in control.
I heard his heavy footsteps behind me, so I picked up the pace and dug out my keyfob. Why he followed didn’t make sense. Just leave me the fuck alone already. I got the message. No need to beat a dead horse.
“Go away!” I shouted as I reached for the door handle.
“I’ll see you at the lake.” He sandwiched me between him and my BMW. I sucked in a breath. I could stay there forever with his body against mine and his warm breath on my neck. Dammit, I wanted to see where things would go with us. “What time will you be there?” he growled, leaning into my back.
“I don’t want you there. I revoke my invitation.” I tried to sound angry and done with him. But it was impossible, with a tremble and whimper working through my body. How dare he mess with my head and emotions.
More than ever, I wanted to perform tonight. I’d been stupid to let Joseph monopolize my attention. After we met, I only thought of him and wondered if he could be the one. The one who would adore me, want to spend time with me, and ultimately love me unconditionally. Maybe I wouldn’t have given him the time of day if I’d been getting my bucket filled at Ted’s Peep Club.
“That’s rude, Bonita.”
“Yeah, and you’re an asshole. Step back before I scream.” And I would scream at the top of my lungs if he didn’t back off.
“All right. I’ll go, but I will see you at the lake, Brynne. And you best not be wearing anything slutty just to piss me off.”
I whirled around and shoved him. “Fuck off, Joseph! You have no right to tell me what to do. No right at all. Just stay the hell away from me, or you’ll be sorry.” Who was this guy? What changed? He didn’t at all seem to stumble over speaking English. His words came out effortlessly with hardly an accent.
“I’ll be sorry, huh?” He didn’t appear afraid like I hoped he would. “You don’t scare me.”
I didn’t want to go there, but I would. “My father is a powerful man. One word from me, and you’ll disappear forever.” My words pierced my heart. I wasn’t lying. If I told my father a man was bothering me, he’d deal with him, and I’d never see him again.
“Okay, Bonita.” He stepped back with his hands in the air. “You win.”
I didn’t feel like I’d won as I jumped into my Bimmer and locked the door. My stomach flip-flopped, and regret rushed through my veins.
Joseph brushed his fingers through his hair and stalked away. I sensed his frustration and anger. What happened to us? I thought we were perfect for each other, thought we had a connection. I believed Joseph was unique and meant to be mine.
But nobody controlled me. Well, nobody except my dad.
I pulled out of the parking lot and drove away. When I got home, I’d send my supervisor at the club a message to let her know I’d be there at eight.
What was a girl to do when she needed attention? Needed comfort and affection when her father and mother weren’t around? Or the guy she liked.
Not that it was my mom’s fault she couldn’t be with me. She had died in a car accident years ago, the day after I’d turned seven. If I could, I’d call her to lament over Joseph.
Emotion burned behind my eyes on my way home, sad that I hardly remembered my mom. I sort of recalled a soft voice and long, thin fingers. She was definitely beautiful.
What would she say about Joseph’s hot and cold, bipolar attitude?
4
Tina
Fifteen years ago
Would he actually kill me on the eve of our little girl’s seventh birthday? I dug my nails into his hands, using every bit of fight and strength I could find to pry them off my throat.
He was so much stronger than me. I didn’t stand a chance against him.
How could I when I barely weighed one hundred pounds? My abuser had starved me to keep me at his mercy. All I got was water and four meals per week—only enough to keep me alive.