I couldn’t form the words to say it back right then, not because I didn’t feel them, though. I knew I loved her. She’d owned at least a part of me ever since the first time she’d looked at me. And after that night? She owned every part of me. There would never be a time when she didn’t.
55
***SJ***
Iwokeupthenext morning smashed between Holden and Barrett. Dominic was just on the other side; he’d gotten the short straw, it seemed. I didn’t remember them coming home.
I’d been so exhausted that almost as soon as I’d laid down in Holden’s bed, I was out. I’d felt a sense of peace after telling him how I felt and it had made sleep come easy. I knew that as soon as they all woke up we’d be having a big conversation, but I wanted to prepare myself before that happened.
I went to the bathroom and did my morning things before shrugging into one of their discarded shirts and shuffling into Holden’s living room. The bigger purse I carried from house to house with the guys had my journal in it and I needed to get some of my thoughts sorted out. I pulled it closer on the couch and reached in to grab the notebook, but I came up empty-handed. I frowned and looked all around the purse, even in places that the journal wouldn’t fit, like a side zipper.
Standing up, I searched all around the couch, thinking maybe it’d fallen out. After ten minutes of searching, a sense of dread grew. I couldn’t find it anywhere. Not for the first time, I started internally lecturing myself about keeping a physical journal that could be lost so easily. I put every thought I had in my journal, never holding back. Not knowing where something like that was made me feel sick to my stomach.
I stood in the middle of the living room, looking around, trying to stay calm. I’d only been a few places. It couldn’t be missing. I’d had my purse the day before when I went to Barrett’s because I’d been planning to shove his shirt in it. I’d put my purse on the closet floor, but clearly, I’d grabbed the purse. So, where was the journal? Maybe it’d fallen out. It had to be in one of the three houses or one of their vehicles.
I found my phone at the bottom of my purse and decided to do the thing I detested most, which was use my phone to journal. It was dead, so I headed into the kitchen with a sigh and plugged it in to Holden’s charger. I thought I’d charged it later in the day yesterday, so I wasn’t sure why it was dead. One more thing to stress about, I figured. I’d journal about it. Laughing at my own stupid joke, I powered up the phone and waited while drinking a bottle of water from the fridge.
When the phone started vibrating and didn’t stop as soon as it was on, I grabbed it to stop the rattling sound it made on the counter. Looking at the screen, figuring I’d broken the thing somehow, I was floored when I saw the notification count growing higher and higher. When it slowed down some, I went to the link for my blog and saw that I had over a thousand new comments on my latest post.
I bounced where I stood, elation growing. Something had finally happened and my blog was going viral. I barely managed to keep from screaming with joy. Having my writing recognized meant everything to me. I fought tears of happiness as more and more comments were added. The site was freezing from all the activity, so I couldn’t open the comments right away.
Standing there with a giant grin on my face, I was mid fist pump when I saw the first comment. The second. The third. The fourth. And then everything came crashing down around me as the comments kept going, all along the same lines.
Slut.
Disgusting whore.
What a terrible person.
Not even Jesus could save her.
How could she do that?
This is why I don’t even bother applying for office jobs anymore.
Look at this slut.
Imagine the state of her body.
Why her?
Who would choose her to share? Gross.
They could do so much better.
Her best friend’s father. Wow.
The last entry to my blog had been posted at three in the morning, long after I’d been asleep. It was a series of photos, all of pages from my journal. My writing was there, on my phone screen, small but clear.
I can’t believe I did that last night. On one hand, I know it was wrong. On the other, I’ve never had so many orgasms. They were so sexy and demanding. I’ve never been controlled in bed before. I loved it. I gave up my last virginity. Guess my husband will just have to accept my undying love. It felt amazing and I can’t sit still today. I’m a terrible best friend, but I can’t stop thinking about them.
Well, I managed to keep my panties on for less than a week while working with them. Less than a day. So. There’s that. Also, I’m a big fan of spanking. Who knew?
I slept with Barrett again. I said I wouldn’t. I promised myself I wouldn’t. I really meant to stay away from him. He’s Sam’s dad. It’s wrong. I’ve never kept anything from Sam. Now, I’m hiding this huge secret and I feel awful. When I’m with him, though, everything else fades away. They all make me feel so safe and loved. Not that they love me. I mean, that’s crazy. I’m not dumb enough to assume they’re going to fall for me the way I could for them. I’ve just never felt the way I do when I’m with them. I’ve been so lonely since Mom died. Nothing has made a dent in that loneliness until them. I don’t know what to do, but I don’t want to stay away.
He tied me up this morning. The things he did. Oh god. I never knew sex could be like this. They all know how to touch my body just the right way. I never thought I’d write these words, but I squirted. I wish I was kidding when I said I didn’t even know that was possible outside of porn. I feel like I’m waking up for the first time. I’m seeing things differently. I feel different. How do I walk away?
I can’t walk away. I want them. I’ll figure out how to explain it to Sam later.