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I haven’t even worked for him for a month yet. People die for less. The other week Dad almost died for ten grand.
He gets closer, face contorting at my words and I actually think he might hit me.
I very nearly think he will because he looks exactly like a man I should be scared of, but instead he presses his forehead to mine.
“No…doll,” he says breathlessly and I hate the way his skin feels against mine. “You’re right. You wouldn’t know me. Don’t do it… Don’t feel for me. Don’t.”
Before I can answer, he moves away and leaves me.
I stare after him and watch him drive away.
The angst of everything has taken me whole. I’m thinking of everything.
Last night and everything.
Don’t feel for me…
I shouldn’t.
I know that. I could write down a million things that all warn me away.
The only problem with that is, it’s too late.
Last night happened with all its warnings but I’m caught in a trap.
It’s too late.
I shouldn’t want him, but I do.
