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Idiot.
What would’ve happened if Ian or Jack saw the bruise? They would’ve demanded to know where it had come from, but there was no way she could tell them the truth.
She was going to have to wear long sleeves for the next few days, which would bloody suck.
Perhaps she could put on some concealer? Only her makeup was shitty stuff that basically did nothing except occasionally give her a really nasty rash.
And yet she kept using it.
What did that say about her?
That you are a moron. That’s what it says about you.
She tugged at her hair as she remembered Uncle Willy grabbing her. Smashing the vase.
Sheepsbollocks.
What if Beck had come inside and seen him? What if the others figured it out? Ian was nosy and sharp.
How would she hide what was happening from everyone?
Maybe this was the only time this would happen. Those sorts of episodes were rare.
Not for the first time, she wished she could tell someone what was happening. That she could ask for help.
But she’d promised to keep it quiet. It was the only thing Uncle Willy had asked of her. It was the least she could do with how much he’d done for her.
There was no way she would go against him. She’d do whatever it took to protect him.
Still, that didn’t mean the burden on her wasn’t huge. That she didn’t feel it weighing her down every day. She hid it behind her effervescent attitude and never-ending charm. But it was still there.
Tug. Pull.
A chunk of hair fell out and she whimpered in pain. This had to stop. She couldn’t keep pulling at her hair.
Maybe it wasn’t Ian who needed a therapist, but her. With a sigh, she moved to the drawers to grab the shirt she’d asked Ian to get. She frowned as she saw that her vibrator had been moved.
Ian must have done that when he grabbed Ziggy.
Shrugging, she got dressed and climbed into bed with a yawn.
Everything would be better in the morning.
Something pricked at her consciousness,causing her to wake.
She wasn’t sure what it was. A feeling rather than a noise.
Forcing her eyes open, Maggie saw that it was still dark. Though the light of the moon was shining through the windows.
Shoot. Maybe she should have closed the curtains. But since she was on the second level of the house and there weren’t any close neighbors around, she thought it would be fine.
Plus, she liked to be woken by the sun streaming into the windows.
Maggie wondered what had woken her. There were no noises and she couldn’t see anything unusual. So, with a disgruntled groan, she rolled over and reached for Ziggy.
Wait. Where was he?
Her breathing increased as she moved her hand around. Where was Ziggy? Had he fallen off the bed?
