me in my place, right here for the assholes around to see.
Now it’s not speculation but confirmed fact as far as they’re concerned.
Words straight from their leader’s mouth.
I’m an apple plucked from the same tree.
A whore.
It’s one thing for me to play into it, to act like the slut they see, make them think I fuck because I feel like it, but that’s on my terms. My choice.
And he took it away in two point five seconds with two dozen witnesses.
He’s right with what he said. I can’t stand everyone seeing her when they look at me.
I bite into my tongue to keep from lashing out. Chances are the rage and disgrace will blend, ending in waterworks I can’t control and they don’t deserve – that would be a nightmare.
They want my tears, but they won’t get them this easy.
I force my feet to move, block out the snide remarks and instant offers that hit my ears and shove through the door with my head held high. It’s fake, the vigor I show.
Truth is, these boys got me on my knees, where whores are most comfortable.
But I swear to shit, it’ll take a lot more than three parentless punks to keep me here.
I dab at my lip with the hydrogen peroxide one last time then set the little timer glued to the wall to keep us regulated on the hot water and step into the shower to let the dirt and grime run off the rest of me.
How I managed to sneak back into the house before Maybell woke is beyond me, but I made it with only minutes to spare, then slid into the bathroom before she could see I was a hot, bloody mess.
The timer goes off too soon, followed by a prompt bang on the other side of the door letting me know it’s someone else’s turn and time for me to get the fuck out.
I dress as quickly as possible and slip back into my room, flopping onto my assigned bed. The mattress is ancient and has a dip in the center from years of overuse, but it’s got clean sheets and a soft blanket. Beats the hell out of the drop-down sofa I slept on in the trailer living room the past ten years.
The second I let my eyes close, Maybell pops in.
“Come on now, Rae. Breakfast with the others, chores, then the rest of the day is yours.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“And I’m not asking. Come on now, you need to put some meat on those bones.”
Ugh. Kill me now.
Like the maintenance chores, each week we’re assigned cooking duties. So far I’ve only had to set the table and wash vegetables. Turns out today, I’m on pancake duty with Victoria. Fucking yay.
She starts mixing as I pull out the large portable skillet thing they use to cook on.
I’ve seen them but have never used one before. It kind of reminds me of the hot plate we used at home, assuming there was something worth making.
When I get stuck staring at the dials, Victoria sighs and reaches over, showing me how annoyed she is with the flick of her wrist as she helps me out.
“Thanks.”
“Whatever.”
Okay then.
About fifteen pancakes later, and she starts talking.
“So.” She adds more water to the batter. “What happened with you and the Brays?”
“Not sure what you’re referring to.”
“Rumor has it, last week someone saw you riding Maddoc in the back seat while the other two drove you around.”
“Bet that was a sight to see, through the tinted ass windows and all.”
She scoffs, turning to me. “You trying to deny it? Chances are someone took a picture. And the front window isn’t as dark.”
“I’m not trying to do shit. Think what you want, I don’t really give a damn.”
“Wouldn’t matter if you did anyway, they seemed to have already passed you on.” She goes mute on me after that, just the way I like her.
A little over an hour passes before I’m able to start on my outside chores. Thankfully, all I have left for today is watering the plants out back and spraying down the swing set.
Soon as I stand from wrapping up the hose a whistle sounds and I turn, squinting down the dirt road I’m not allowed on.
Royce jerks his chin, lifting a joint in the air in offering.
I glance at the house, finding the only girls outside busy with their own jobs, so I head his way.