Page 8 of The Handyman

‘That’s okay. I’m on my way to the storage facility. Whoo...’

Pursing my lips thinly, I rocked back on my heels slightly and gnawed my bottom lip. I had to work. I had no choice but to get something done today. Falling even more behind than I already was would make it that much harder to catch up. But—I really wanted to see Reece.

We were meeting up tomorrow night, but that wasn’t close enough. A groan of frustration bubbled up from deep in me, and I typed back a quick, simple text. Reece didn’t seem enthusiastic to go to the storage facility, but there wasn’t much I could do.

“Damn jobs and damn adulting and— ugh!” Grumbling to myself, I left my bedroom and shut the door behind me gently. My apartment was a two-bedroom that I could barely afford this time of year, but I loved the layout and the area. Shouldering my way into my office, I inhaled deeply as I gazed at my computer. “How hard is it to coordinate promotional material, anyway?”

To be fair, I wrote romance fiction, blogs, and articles to make up for the slow season, but there was always so much to do and not enough time to do it. I was always trying to get ahead, but my running got me nowhere. During the spring, business would boom, but I always had to be careful— and Ihatedit. Working a regular job wasn’t what I wanted for myself.

Working a jobat allwasn’t what I wanted for myself.

“Especially retail. Screw retail.” At the very least, I didn’t have to work three jobs at three different physical locations to support myself. I didn’t have to coordinate my schedules to best drive myself into the ground. I didn’t have to worry about being fired for being late, having to leave early or missing a day entirely.

Breaking me from my thoughts, my phone vibrated insistently in my hand, and I blinked hard. Surprise twitched my brows, but a frown dragged down my mouth. My mom’s name flashed on the screen, sending an itch through my hand to turn down the call. She was persistent, though. And she never had anything good to say.

“Hey, Mom. I’m about to get ready for work. What’s up?” The line crackled ominously, and I walked over to my computer to turn on the multiple monitors one by one. “Mom?”

“Riley!”

Her shrill excitement rattled my teeth, and I closed my eyes as a shiver of foreboding raced down my spine.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Pausing at this, my jaw dropped. My mouth dried as expectant silence rang in my ear, and I opened and closed my mouth a few times. “W-what? I don’t have a boyfriend, Mom. That’s stupid. Who told you that?” Seating myself heavily in my chair, I swished back and forth, as I reached to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Do I even want to know the answer to that?”

“I got a message this morning from him— that he was your boyfriend, and he wanted to introduce himself. I’m so glad you’re over the disgusting phase. It was worse than your goth phase, Riley. Honestly, you took things too far. It’s good you learned your lesson.”

Hersupervague reply bristled the hairs on the back of my neck.

Then my mom’s tone went from exciting to chiding before I could even blink. “If you ask me, I think you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. You can’t be with every creep in the city and decide to take a little thing way over the top. He seems great in our conversations. It’d be stupid of you to ruin it. Have you ever heard of compromise? I think it’s a little fast to get into a relationship, myself. You’re not gonna call the cops on this guy too, if he looks at you wrong, are you, Riley?”

“. . . What the fuck, Mom?” Disbelief softened my tone, and the line crackled from the wind or something to snap against my cheek painfully. “Are you seriously telling me I should just let a guy hit me in the face?”

“What! No! I’m saying that when you hang around a crowd like that, you’re just asking for trouble, that’s all. You can’t decide to move the line whenever you feel like it, Riley. I’mseriously tellingyou that you should hang out with better people, or that’s what happens.”

My heart lurched into my throat as my stomach roiled, and goosebumps pocked my whole body under my clothes.

“It’s not like you don’t like it, either. You said it yourself, Riley, that y—”

I hung up the phone before my mom could say anything more. What thefuckwas there to say? My brain couldn’t even wrap around what words she already forced into my ears. Almost immediately, my phone started to vibrate against my cheek, and I jumped with a harsh gasp. Underneath me, my chair rattled as the room started to cave in on me, and I tapped around on the screen to block my mom’s number hastily.

My mom wasn’t that traditional or strict, but onwhat fucking planet. . .?

“I shouldn’t have picked up the phone.” Once again, I’d ignored my gut and gotten burned—bad. Knowing my mom really had nothing to say, she just wanted to talkatme, I should’ve ignored her call. I stupidly thought that whatever she had to say wasn’t as bad as being pestered by her for however long she tried to call me. “Maybe she’s right, and I do deserve it.”

Maybe, I am the problem.My mouth dried at that thought, and I stared at my phone screen as it went black. Maybe, my mom was right, and it wasmystandards that were skewed. Maybe, I should expect to get abused because of my fetish.

Being tied up. . . the next logical step after that would be to get violent, right? To getrough. To be violated and physically degraded. Maybe, I just freaked out with Brandon because it was so sudden and expected.What if I do deserve it because of my deviancy? You can’t like fire and not get burned at least a few times. I can’t like being bound and expect men to be gentle.

Closing my eyes, my cheek twisted with the phantom prickling of Brandon’s palm— of his hands wrapping around my neck andsqueezing. The way he pinned me to the floor and twisted my arm back. Calling me a nasty whore— maybe, he was right.

My phone gave a shrill ping, and the ringing in my ears suddenly quieted as Reece’s text popped up on the screen.

‘I’m just going to inspect it to make sure nothings broken. If you’re free after, we can meet up?’

Pursing my lips thinly, I licked my lips heavily as heaviness lowered my lids, I typed. ‘I’m not free no’

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