Page 14

Chapter

Fourteen

PIPER

Thanksgiving is the worst. Obnoxious and creepy, my father continually hits on my eighteen-year-old best friend, trying to impress her with his conquests and asking for her number after. My mother, half drunk, goes on and on about my father’s love affairs with anyone and everyone who will listen.

“Even dead women.” She laughs heartily between sips of her wine.

When I finally get home and collapse onto my comfortable sofa bed, I gaze at the cracked ceiling above me. None of those events come close to what’s actually causing me anguish.

If I’m honest, the worst has been avoiding Adon for the last week. Not avoiding , just not seeing him. After our last hookup, he brought me home, and I told him that I’m not taking any hormones. No morning-after pill or anything. It almost brought me to tears when he stroked my cheek with his thumb, standing right over there at the doorway to my place and said, “No problem, Rosy. You know how I feel.”

But I don’t. He said I couldn’t hang with him because he had the kids and his aunt visiting from Greece. Not that I’d want to intrude.

We aren’t a thing .

And the thought of having to take another morning-after pill after the last time makes me hurl my guts into the toilet. Or maybe it was my mother’s cooking. I shouldn’t be the one to have to do anything. Adon should have wrapped it up. Or gotten a vasectomy. Whatever.

In the passion of rescue and the bubble of his protection, I let him fuck me. And kiss me. That was wild. He’d never done that before, and it fucked with my head.

No pricks, Piper. Stop it.

Maybe I should go back to therapy.

Whenever he texts me over the next week, I send him back an “Ok” or a thumbs-up. The texts get more insistent, asking how I’m doing, if there’s something wrong, then demanding to come over to see him. Once he said he’s on his way over to my place, but I hurriedly told him I was out at the club, then grabbed my coat and darted out to the street, heading straight to The Warehouse for a drink.

Two weeks after we last saw each other, I get a call from a number in the city. “Hello?”

“Piper?” I don’t recognize the voice.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, it’s Tate from Griffin Motors. I, uh… Well, I was the one taking a look at your car this past week, and I think you need to come down here to discuss the problem. Can you come by today?”

Swallowing, my eyebrows stitch together. Is this Adon’s way of getting me to see him again? By using his best friend? Or is there something actually wrong?

“Sure. I get done at the library at three. Does that time work?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t close until six.”

The tone of his voice makes me feel weird. Like…there’s something wrong . “Okay, I’ll be there before then. Thanks.”

Shanna is in full holiday spirits, humming her Christmas songs and wearing a puffy snowman sweater. Glancing at her bopping around the aisle makes my stomach twist with anxiety. I don’t know how I can stand being here for another hour, waiting to know what Tate wants to tell me about my car.

She startles when I gingerly step close to her and whisper her name. “Sorry. Um, I’m not feeling great. I was wondering if I can leave an hour early.”

Her jaw drops as sudden as her jovial outlook. “Only if you make up for it next week.”

Stilling my need to snap back at her, I smile. “Of course. I’ll stay an hour later next week. Thanks so much, Shanna.”

I grumble all the way to my locker, grab my things, then book a rideshare. Within twenty minutes, I’m standing in front of Griffin Motors’ big sign. Shoving my hands into my puffy coat, I stroll up to the open bay. Tate’s red hair waves in the winter breeze as I approach.

“Hey, Piper. Um… Why don’t you come with me to the back?”

My clunker is high up in the air on hydraulic lifts with a bunch of hoses hanging loose from underneath. It looks complicated. And expensive.

“Sure, okay.”

Maybe sleeping with Adon again will get me free car repairs.

When we enter the office, Adon is discussing something on the computer screen with Eli. My best friend’s boyfriend glances at me, then stands abruptly. “I’m going to lunch. Hi, Piper. Bye, Piper.”

He quickly snags his coat and heads out the door before Tate shuts it behind him.

Adon lounges in the desk chair and points to the one across from him. “Have a seat.”

Tate leans against the far table with his arms crossed and I shrug, then sit on the edge, waiting for them to tell me my car has cancer or something.

“So, Tate and I took a look at your brakes and, uh…I think someone tampered with your car. There were several sharp cuts in the brake lines, like someone wanted this to happen over time. Make it look like an accident.” Adon’s dark brown eyes cast over to his friend. “However, it’s anything but natural looking.”

I’m stiff. I only have one enemy. Well, other than my own mother and sister. Reeling from the news, I try to piece together who would have done it.

“Don’t worry. I can fix the car,” Tate says behind me, like that’s what I’m worried about most.

Adon waves him off with his hand. “Go get started.” My mouth opens to protest, not knowing how much it will be, but Adon interrupts, “Free of charge.”

I guess my pussy is just that good. Should I aim for a new apartment?

Once we’re alone, Adon raises his eyebrows. “Any idea who could have done this?”

My body vibrates with anxiety as I lick my bottom lip, wondering if I should tell him. “I don’t think so. I mean, there was a guy back in the day, but he’s been gone a long time.”

Adon stands and comes around the desk, then rests his ass against the edge. His big palm lifts my chin up so I face him. A warm, tender expression on his face makes me want to cry. “Who?”

With a shake of my head, I slide back in the chair. “His name was Noah. But he wouldn’t come back. Not here.”

His broad shoulders tense as he stares at the ceiling. “Okay, Noah. But do you think he’d have anything to do with your purse getting snatched?”

Tilting my head, I ponder what he’s asking. “You mean…”

“After the coffee shop incident. Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“You think they’re connected.”

Rubbing at his beard slowly, he tugs on the ends. “Maybe. Your family was sitting with the woman who died, right? How did you know her?”

“I didn’t at all. She was my sister’s boyfriend’s stepmother. And her husband is my sister’s professor.” Trying to scramble how all of my family is somehow intertwined with the dead woman, I pause, staring at the faux wood grain on the laminate desk top. “She was my father’s employee, too. Maybe more than that, knowing him.”

Adon’s big body seems even more formidable in his silence. And the longer he’s quiet, the more uncomfortable I get. His molten lava eyes light me up, even when I’m not looking at him.

“What happened to you, and how can I fix it?”

The words irritate me to the point of anger. He’s just like every other older man in the clubs I go to, the ones at the bar, every man ever who finds me and wants me to stroke his ego while he plays white knight.

When I stand, the chair knocks back with a rattle on the concrete floor. “You can’t fix me, Adon. I’m not a project for your middle-aged ass to mend.”

His cheeks darken with fury, eyes narrowing, but he doesn’t say anything, only crosses his bulging arms.

I reach the door and fling it open, throwing over my shoulder, “Thanks for repairing my car. I’ll see you around.”

Storming to the edge of the shop, I book another ride to pick me up. This could get expensive, if I’m not careful.

Should I have become more compliant, given Daddy Don his compliments, let him fuck me more with his huge cock so that he could give me a new car? Maybe. Maybe I’m stupid for not playing along.

Guilt overtakes me thinking about using him that way. I don’t think Adon’s that simple. He’s not like the old guys at the sex clubs or the businessmen at the local dive bars. The man actually cares. I’ve seen how he operates with his brothers and me. His love for his children.

But he also wants me to be different . When I’m with him, it feels like he needs someone older, more mature. Someone who is healthy and hasn’t been through what I have. He wants me to be like her . His ex-wife. Probably still attached to her, too.

And maybe it’s good that the holidays are here, and I don’t have to buy him a gift or worry that he’s going to redecorate my apartment because he feels sorry for me, when really, he’s doing it because he doesn’t like the place.

By the time I feed Freckles and try to brush him as he slithers by me in erratic patterns, change the litter box, and stare at my empty cabinets, I’ve decided what I need is to get back to who I am. Me, Piper Hendricks. Lover of smut books and wine. And fun parties.

It’s a shame Essa is too young for the clubs, because I’m getting the urge to head out to one. Be with people my own age. Instead, I pop open a new bottle of red and download a fresh taboo book. Curled up under my blanket with a nutritious dinner of crackers and cheese, Freckles suddenly becomes my best friend, swiping a paw at every bite I take.

Once I’ve finished all the wine, I pass out and stumble through the weekend, chasing the lull of deadened thoughts with another bottle. Well, two more. But my old therapist would be happy to know I didn’t cut. Not once.

Progress, not perfection. One day at a time. Baby steps. One percent better every day.

I’ve done the sticky notes on my mirror, the motivational affirmations every morning, prayer, meditation, Yoga, and Pilates. I read self-help books and numbed myself with anything around me.

Basically, it’s so much easier to not feel when I’m alone. Because if I do, I go to the bad place. The one where I think maybe I did make up the incident in my head. That I’m so far gone, the pain and humiliation, guilt, and self-loathing was just a delusion I created.

For what purpose, though? Why would I do that to myself?

My sister thinks it’s for attention. They don’t understand that I hate the attention. It’s like a spotlight on the dirtiest parts of me, the ones that shouldn’t see the light or they’ll become morphed into melanomas.

I can’t be with Adon because he deserves someone pure, someone who hasn’t been tainted the way I have. I can’t be fixed. All I can be is me, a damaged product of no use to anyone.

So that’s when I wallow in a desperate pile under my blanket and call in sick three days in a row, don’t shower, eat a package of saltines, almost lose my job, and hope that the world stops existing by the time I grapple out of the mire.

It never does.

The good news is, this time I must have pushed Adon so far away that he hasn’t tried to call or text. My car may be ready, but I haven’t heard a word. I think I’ll just have to walk everywhere from now on. Maybe find a new person to drive me around town when I need it.

I’ve been trudging through the dumps enough to know how to mask the scent of garbage. So the week before Christmas, I’ve cleaned up, made amends with Shanna, and even got a doctor’s note to say how sick I was. While I was there, I grabbed a prescription for the dreaded birth control, was handed a benign bill of health, and a joyous negative pregnancy test.

Maeve

Dinner tonight with Dad. Be at The Vine at 6.

My eyes flutter with annoyance. Part of me wishes the bullet would have hit me, only so I could avoid this pre-Christmas meal. Christmas will be even worse.

Nevertheless, to avoid the incessant phone calls and the predictable visits if I were to no show, I’m at the restaurant at 6:30 p.m. sharp. Wearing a puffy-sleeved red satin gown from the 80s, that I picked up at one of the local secondhand shops, worn with the goal to piss off my sister.

Maeve scoffs when I take a seat, and my father pretends not to see my outfit. “’Bout time you showed up,” my sister grumbles.

“I thought you said six-thirty.”

Her green eyes narrow at me, letting me know she doesn’t accept my rebuttal.

A hand brushes against my exposed back, and I glance up. Adon looms over me with a serious look on his face, sending a riot of butterflies flapping wings in my belly. The sight of him soothes me, but also sets me on edge. He can’t be here with these people. If he sees my family, he’ll know for sure that I’m useless.

“Sorry to interrupt. Piper, your car is done and at the shop whenever you need it.”

My eyes grow wide at his presence here with my family. “Oh, um. Thanks.”

“Adon Griffin, right? From Griffin Motors? I’m Greg Hendricks.” Dad’s hand juts out to greet Adon, who shakes it once, then stands back. “You here alone?”

Adon nods. “Yeah, just getting seated and enjoying a good meal before the weekend.”

“Please, join us. I’m with Northview Community Bank. We’ve been vying for your business for a while now.” My dad makes this weird laugh that makes me cringe, but shockingly, Adon sits down next to me while giving me a leery glance. Like he’s afraid I’ll bite him if he gets too comfortable. Oddly, he leaves his arm around the back of my seat, like he’s protecting me.

“Thanks. I think I will.”

The waiter presents our dinner options, and everyone places their orders while I secretly hope this dinner is over faster than normal. Although, having Adon here, sitting across from my two enemies, is comforting in a way. I just hope he doesn’t say something to make my life worse. And he definitely could.

After a sip of his wine, my father taps the table with his thumb to gain Adon’s attention. “You helped Meghan when she had her accident that day. A true hero.”

Adon’s lips form a tight line, and his eyes reflect the memory of what he tried to do. I can tell it’s the last thing he wanted to think about. “I tried.”

My father adjusts his glasses on his nose and leans closer, lowering his voice. “You don’t have any female employees, do you, Mr. Griffin?”

Startled, Adon sits back in his chair and shakes his head slightly. My tummy twists in a knot, watching the chaos about to unfold. “Uh, just our front desk staff.”

A slight, knowing nod comes from my dad. “Be careful. You know how the workforce is nowadays. Women sue for literally anything. You break it off with them, and here comes the lawsuits claiming sexual harassment.”

Maeve pats my father’s hand on the table. “She was a slut anyway, Dad.”

It’s difficult to swallow, my mouth is so dry. If I thought that Adon wouldn’t want me before, given how broken I am, surely, he’ll flee now after seeing what I come from.

“Um, I’ll take that into consideration.” Adon takes a large drink of his water and eyes me while he does so, like he’s checking with me to see if this is normal. Unfortunately, it is.

“Wait,” I interrupt the loving father-daughter moment between my sister and dad. “Are you talking about the woman that died ? You two were together ?”

As if he’s bored, my father brushes some unseen crumbs off his suit jacket. “The woman hit on me . And it was brief. I rejected her, and then here she comes with threats from lawyers once I ended things.”

Ended things…which means there was something there to begin with.

“This is why it’s so important to keep families together. Divorce does no one any good.” Maeve glances around the table, like she’s giving a speech at a beauty pageant. “Mr. Griffin, you aren’t divorced, are you?”

Adon’s broad chest expands, almost popping the buttons off his black button-down shirt as he strokes his bottom lip with his tongue before responding. “Uh, yeah. Yes, I am.”

“Oh. Well, that’s a shame. My boyfriend always says divorce ruins children, especially daughters. Do you have a daughter? Do you hate your ex-wife?”

My body shrinks into my chair, wanting to disappear completely. It’s like I’m watching a horror movie and can’t stop the outcome. The worst part, though, is that I want to hear his answers, too.

“I do have a daughter. And I get along with my ex very well. We’re good friends and parents to our kids.”

Maeve’s eyes flash to my face, as if she’s speaking to me, but her words are directed at the man next to me. “You should work on reconciling with her, then.”

My lips part with a gasp as I glance at Adon, who steals a look at me. He swallows and replies, “I?—”

“Here’re your dishes!” With spectacular flourish, the waiter sets our plates in front of us and the rest of the meal is eaten in uncomfortable silence. Other than my father awkwardly pitching to Adon ways to garner his business for the bank. But he won’t look at me. Not that I want him to see the utter mortification painting my face. The lack of eye contact makes it clear. Adon is finished with me after this. As he should be.

When the misery ends, I don’t even wait for Adon to stand before I scurry outside, tears heating my eyes.

It’s not just the way my family is that makes my cheeks flame with embarrassment. They’re a reflection of how wrong I am for anyone. I’ll never be normal. I can’t be like Adon’s ex-wife and why I even feel the need to try to fit myself into that role is beyond me.

I’m halfway to my apartment, the cold wind striking like daggers on my bare ears. As I reach the building before it, large arms grab my body and hoist me back.