lips.
I wish I could believe her, but there’s no way I can risk it. I tilt my head to the door, letting them know I’m taking her away.
My feet drag and stumble as he pulls me back into the office. I’ll offer him anything. There has to be some way to convince him.
She hardly struggles against me as I close the door. I don’t think there’s any way I could convince the familia to let her go. Maybe there’s a way.
I’m going to have to keep her until they’re convinced.
She’s my hostage now.
Elle
Earlier that day…
I shift my weight and groan. This bag is freaking killing my shoulder. I don’t know why I packed so many textbooks. I shoved all three in to my bag along with my laptop before I took off. Barely 15 minutes later, the straps are digging into my skin, making it feel raw and destroying my resolve to study. Part of me just wants to drop the bag and go to a bar. I’m so fucking pissed off. I shake off the bitter resentment and walk a little faster. I shouldn’t have brought so much grad work. It’s not like I’m in any mood to do it anyway. Not after fighting with my mother again.
I wish I didn’t have to pay her fucking bills, so I could move back to my shitty little apartment. Her poor decisions keep fucking me over. I can’t afford to live anywhere but with her now. Why the hell did she get a mortgage? Did she have to fuck me over like that? She had to know she couldn’t afford it. I told her not to do it. I knew this would happen. And now I’m stuck here helping her ass out again, while she gets sober … again.
I’m tired of sacrificing everything for her, but I just can’t say no. I can’t abandon her. Even if it’s draining the life out of me. I’m just lucky I was able to transfer to a local university so I could move back in with her. I need to get my shit together so I don’t fail. Playing catch-up is a bitch though. And I’m struggling to find the motivation.
I leave for not even three months and she ups and moves for some loser she met online. And then buys a house for both of them. I shake my head and bite the inside of my cheek while tears burn my eyes. I won’t cry again. I push them back and concentrate on the anger. Mom has so many problems. It’s fucked up.
I don’t care that she thinks he’s going to change and pay her back all the money that he squandered. It’s not fucking acceptable. I don’t trust this guy, just like I didn’t trust the last, but does she listen to me? No. Not unless I’m rattling off my bank account number.
I know I saw a little place down the street on the way in that looked like a good spot to park my ass and attempt to relax. I just need to get out of that house so I can study without being so pissed. I groan and swing the tote over my shoulder to try to ease the pressure of the weight. After a few minutes of walking I calm down and smirk, remembering what bag I picked for today. The text on the tote reads, “My book club only reads wine labels.” A smile grows on my face and I can’t help it. I may have a completely new life now, a really shitty one, but at least I still have my old sense of humor.
After a few minutes I nearly consider turning back to get my car, but then I pick up the pace remembering that asshole is still there. She'd better kick his ass out. I told her I’m not going to help out financially if he’s there. My fists clench harder as a long, strangled breath leaves me. Her words ring in my ear. “But you’re on the mortgage!” She’s such a bitch. And technically, a criminal for forging my name. But am I going to do anything about it? Nope. I always keep my mouth shut and do what’s best. At least what’s best for others. I don’t even know what’s best for me anymore.
I clench my jaw, and feel anger rising inside of me. It's not fucking right to be angry at her. Or is it? I just wish she were more responsible.