Clarity - Nicole Dykes Page 0,15

other guy I’ve ever known. I thought he was different, but he’s not. Soon, he’ll be bored. Maybe he already is. And he’ll toss me to the side.

He’ll find a new toy.

The guy’s mouth hurts and not in the good way as he hoovers my neck, leaving his drool behind. “Let’s get out of here.”

I feel Rhys’s eyes on me.

Will he come for me? Stop this guy from escorting me out to fuck me in the bathroom or the alley?

I take the guy’s hand and lead him toward the door.

Of course, he won’t. And as I push the door open, this guy’s hand in mine, no one follows.

No one else even cares.

I’ve been here a month, and my shop is up and running. It still needs a little work, but with me doing all the work by myself for the last month, it’s not bad.

The “OPEN” sign is on, and I’ve had a decent number of customers already.

Sean has called several times to check on me, and so has Chris. I tell them I'm fine, and that’s really all I offer. Because that’s just me.

I hate fucking talking.

I think about the night at the shitty club in Chicago that all but ended the good thing I had with Blair. She’d asked me about my childhood, and then, when I didn’t fucking tell her, she threw a hissy fit.

She tried her best to make me jealous by dancing with some hipster douchebag and taking him out of the club. She let him touch her in front of me. She touched him to show me she fucking could. That normal guys don’t flinch when a hot chick touches them.

That was the worst trip of my life. Being stuck with a vengeful Blair. I mean, what the fuck did she expect? After a year of not letting her touch me, of not talking, that I would all of the sudden open up to her?

Rehab couldn’t make me talk about my past. There was no fucking way Badass Barbie was going to make me do it.

The bell on the door dings, and I look up. I’m shocked when a girl around ten- or eleven-years-old with a head-full of wild curls runs in and jumps behind the counter where I'm standing at the front of the shop. dark blue eyes look up at me and pleads, “Hide me.”

“What?” I look down at her. She looks lost and afraid. Her clothes look like she goes to a prep school of sorts. Her shoes are nice, no scuffs. But still, I recognize something about her.

I nod at her and look up in time for the bell to ding again and a man in a suit and tie to push through. “Did a little girl come in here?”

I shake my head instantly, feeling the girl crouched at my feet. “No kids allowed.”

I point to the sign that says “18 and up.” His eyes shift around the shop, searching, and I don’t know if it’s the suit or something else, but I want to punch the motherfucker in his face for looking around.

“You sure?”

I just glare at him, folding my arms over my wide chest, daring him to ask me again.

He doesn’t. He just mumbles something as he leaves. When he’s gone, I move to the front and lock the door, changing the sign to “CLOSED” before moving back to behind the counter, seeing the girl on the floor. Her knees are pulled to her chest, and her arms are wrapped around them.

“Please don’t make me go back with him.”

Fuck! My chest hurts with how hard my heart is pumping. My ears feel like they’re going to explode from the pressure as I lean down. “Is he your father?”

Her head shakes from side to side as she lifts her gaze to mine. “Foster father.”

I might actually puke. The way she looks. So tiny and afraid. Fuck.

I stand up, fighting to breathe.

I can’t fucking breathe.

She’s staring up at me, horrified. I’m scaring her.

I force my lungs to cooperate and suck in a big breath before letting it go and crouching down again. “What did he do?”

She looks down at the floor.

No.

“He hurts me.”

I want to kill him. I feel my hands form fists involuntarily, and my breaths become rapid, but I remind myself to slow down my breathing. I don’t want to scare her. “I won’t make you go with him.”

She looks up at me with big, hopeful eyes that gut me.

I know why this kid looks so fucking familiar