Bitter Kisses (It's Just High School #3) - Thandiwe Mpofu Page 0,144
live,” Mom says. “You deserve to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
She’s silent, like mothers often do when they know their child is going through unspeakable pain and they don’t want to make it worse by probing.
“Are you really?” she asks, but I don’t have an answer for her. “God, Mia, I really wanted to talk to you about something.”
“What is it?” I ask, picking up on the tension in her voice.
“Uh, baby girl…” she mumbles. “Do you remember that contract.”
The contract.
I know it well enough. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what happened to it. But thinking about that makes me think of someone else I’d rather forget.
“Wat about it?”
“I didn’t want to do this on the phone.”
“But we’re doing it on my birthday, so might as well,” I bite out. I can hear her sigh heavily.
When it comes to difficult situations, she’s always cautious and tender, as if she’s walking on eggshells. I want to remind her that I was dragged out of a burning warehouse, bleeding and on the verge of death so at this point, I can just about handle anything she has to say, but I think that would be going a tad too far.
“Well, I don’t want you to freak out, I’m sure there is a way we can fix this.”
My heart drops as dread tightens all the vital organs in my body.
“What happened?”
“Mia, honey, that contract Nathan forced you to sign, it was bought,” she whispers. “Someone… someone…” she trails off, the words obviously too difficult for her.
“Someone owns me.”
By the time I get back to my little apartment, I’m so tired and so overwhelmed that all I want is to numb my brain and switch off.
I don’t want to think about what Mom just told me. I don’t want to think of the potential danger. I just unlock the door to my apartment, drag my one piece of luggage in and then flip the lock and the deadbolt in.
I decide to take a shower to wash over the day. After a long steamy wash, I dress up in my favorite silk robe and wrap my hair in a soft towel then pad barefoot to my small kitchen.
I grab a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, power off my phone then pad my way back to my room.
I light up my new Yankee scented candles that I decorated around my room. When the ambience of the room is set, I jump on my fluffy bed, grab the remote and flip through the movie options on Netflix, I settle on a classic, Matrix.
These days, mind-numbing T.V. does the trick with me. I don’t do romance or anything that’s overwhelmingly emotional for fear that I might break down.
So, action it is.
At some point, I fall asleep before the movie even finishes and just like a song, I’m transported into a nightmarish dream that steals my breath away in a heartbeat.
This one is unlike other times when I fall into oblivion after watching action-packed movies. This time, the blissful ignorance doesn’t come. Instead, a torrid, explosive wet dream decides to make a comeback when a gorgeous green-eyed devil visits me.
Julian.
At first, it’s his delicious, manly clean scent that fills my lungs before anything else. I can feel my blood start to thrum in my veins as if with anticipation for the wicked wet dream but also because he’s here. Oh God, he’s here.
This, in my dreams, is the only place I can be with Julian. And the pathetic thing is, I’d take him like that just to be with him and feel his strength and power pulling me into his force of will, like he is now.
I feel strong, calloused hands slide up my body slowly and sensually, drawing a moan from my lips. I arch my back, wanting more of his touch, more of the way he makes me feel.
Then he’s hovering over me and I can finally see his sexy, panty-dropping gorgeous face that remind me so much of rough, hard and deep sex but his eyes… the green orbs that drive me wild with restlessness and longing stare down at me and I can’t help it.
“You’re here,” I whisper drowsily, drunk on this dream. “You came for me.”
There’s an air of danger around him though. Unlike my other dreams where my subconscious seems only to be able to conjure up the Julian I last saw nineteen months—eighteen since I talked to him—this Julian feels… different.