Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105709 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I wasn’t asleep.” Millie stretches her arms up from behind us. “I was just waiting for you to finish your story—which is disgusting, by the way—before I came back in here.”
I beam. “Not even sorry. If that's the most action you're ever going to get, I'll gladly tell Jada to share more stories about her sex life.”
“Oh no,” Jada's laughter spills between her words. “I want to hear about yours.”
The front door opens, and my eyes widen at Jada. “Is it?”
She shrugs.
I glance down at my tight polka-dot tank top and little yoga shorts—my ass cheeks practically spilling out from under them.
Hella walks into the kitchen, and my eyes slam shut before I mouth, “Fuck.”
“What?” His grin stretches wide. “What'd I walk in on right now?”
“Oh, just secret girl stuff.” Jada takes a sip of her rum.
“I think I'm buzzed beyond return,” the words tumble out absently. “It's barely nine a.m. and I'm drunk. It's happened, I've fallen. I've reached rock-bottom.”
Hella's eyes dart to Jada. “The fuck?” He swipes the rum off the table and stretches to place it on top of the fridge.
“Jeez, Melissa,” Millie clicks her tongue. “You're reminding me of—”she hesitates. “Some shit just doesn’t change.”
“HA!” I point to Millie, ignoring her almost jab at my obvious alcoholism from our father. “I knew you were my sister. You just cursed!”
Millie's eyes roll skyward. She whips around to face Hella. “This is your fault.”
Hella's brow furrows as he looks down at her. “How's this my fault? I only just walked in the door.”
“The story of you being Jada's first time sent her over the edge.”
The colour drains from Hella's face. “Oh, shit.”
I begin laughing again, my finger stabbing the air toward his pale face. “Oh, now, now. It wasn't that bad. Who wants to hear about my first time?” My hands shoot up, waving frantically like a kid whose teacher just asked who knows the answer to two plus two.
Millie's fingers curl around my wrist, squeezing just enough to anchor me in place. “No, Melissa. Shut up.”
My smile dies mid-chuckle. What the fuck. I need to never drink rum again.
“Sorry,” I mumble, chair legs scraping against the floor as I push back from the table. “I need a shower.”
I rush upstairs, slamming the bathroom door closed and flicking the lock behind me. God, I'm such an idiot. Stepping backwards, the rim of the toilet seat hits my leg when the first tear strolls down my cheek. My hand flies up to my mouth to stop my sob.
“Melissa?” There's a light knock on the door. Of course they followed me.
“Go away, Millie.” I hiccup, trying to sound as normal as possible.
A thunderous pound rattles the door frame, enough to make the metal locks shudder. “Baby? Open the door.”
“Baby?” Jada's snort cuts through the air. “I fucking knew it!” Her voice rings with drunken triumph. My hands curl into fists—if I strangle her now, the alcohol might slow her reflexes enough that I'd actually stand a chance.
“Fuck off, Jada. Take your drunk ass to the kitchen and eat some food,” Hella orders.
Millie's knuckles brush the door again. “Open the door, Lissa. Please! I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so...” Her voice trails off, shame colouring her words.
I scrub the hand towel over my cheeks before fumbling with the lock, the click sounding too loud in the tight space.
I yank the door open before Hella can smash it to pieces.
“I'm fine,” I force out, the words scraping my throat as I choke down another sob.
Hella’s grip closes on Millie’s arm, firm but careful, and he ushers us both into the cramped bathroom. The door slams behind us with a heavy thud as his boot drives it shut. My legs tremble, giving way, and I drop onto the closed toilet lid.
“Talk,” he growls, the single word a command that hangs heavy in the stale air.
My eyes close. Shit. Fuck. This could go very badly. “It doesn't matter.”
“The fuck it doesn't!” He tears the cap off his head, fingers clawing into his hair, yanking at the strands.
I wince, my hands knotting together in my lap.
His chest rises and falls, while Millie and I stay locked in stillness. Then the fire in him seems to gutter out. He sags against the door, sliding down slow until he hits the floor with a dull thump. “I know that look on a woman, when something—or someone—has fucked her up. Usually, I’m the bastard responsible. Speak.”
I meet his gaze, watching the hurt and confusion pool over his face.
Our stares lock. “I didn't have a very good first time.”
His chin jerks once, then again, waiting for me. The bathroom walls feel tighter, like they’re squeezing in, the rum still buzzing through my blood. Something about being caged here with them tears at my guard. “Except Jada let you claim hers.”