A golden ring on her toe; bracelets on her ankles; a slit of a scar—a reminder of her stepfather—on her thigh; a face of a tiger tattooed on her belly, because she was a rebel in her teens; breasts heavy and full of milk, because she opened her legs to an immature boy who left her with a son she hates; a "Don't judge me" tattooed on her neck, because the tiger on her belly wasn't public enough, and most of all is sorrow in her eyes that she masks with a serious frown on her brows.
After a long night shift at her soul-draining janitorial career, she slumps down on her bed, her god-given silky hair scattering on the pillow.
Daddy3 texts her: I'm coming over.
And that's when she showers, puts some makeup on, and steps into the dark blue heels—his favorite.
He loves her dimples, so she forces a smile on before she answers the door.
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He pushes her on the bed, and as she watches him rush out of his cloths, her imagination ignites, turning over her dear fantasy, which is imagining ways to end her life.
The man pushes into her, and she makes the sounds she knows he loves so much, sounds that she knows makes his knees jelly, and in the back of her mind is this bugging thought: What if my son who's sleeping in the next room is actually awake?
#excerpt
After a long night shift at her soul-draining janitorial career, she slumps down on her bed, her god-given silky hair scattering on the pillow.
Daddy3 texts her: I'm coming over.
And that's when she showers, puts some makeup on, and steps into the dark blue heels—his favorite.
He loves her dimples, so she forces a smile on before she answers the door.
-----
He pushes her on the bed, and as she watches him rush out of his cloths, her imagination ignites, turning over her dear fantasy, which is imagining ways to end her life.
The man pushes into her, and she makes the sounds she knows he loves so much, sounds that she knows makes his knees jelly, and in the back of her mind is this bugging thought: What if my son who's sleeping in the next room is actually awake?
#excerpt