AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter One
Maggie
It’s official. My job sucks. In fact, my whole life sucks.
I had dreams—not elaborate ones, just a simple desire to be doing something better than working in a cheap clothing store with dead-end prospects and people who don’t seem to give a shit about anything.
But it pays the bills. Barely. If it were left to my mom, we’d be homeless by now.
My shift finally comes to an end, and I guide my little Honda towards home. Rain peppers down on the windshield as I make the short journey up the highway, matching my gloomy mood.
I reach my house and park up in the drive, pausing to pull my phone from my purse. Triple Threat, my favorite country and western group, dropped a new album today, and I’m desperate to see if there are any reviews yet. Their first album hit number one on the Billboard charts, but they’ve struggled to replicate that success with their last two albums.
Scrolling through the websites, I find several early reviews that are less than complimentary. I slump in my seat, my stomach dipping with disappointment.
“Ah, crap,” I mutter, hating that they seem to be struggling.
I wish I could help. They have no idea of the role I played in the song that won them a Grammy.
I clamber out of the car and dash through the now pouring rain for the house. I opt to go through the garage so I don’t track water and mud into the hallway. Kicking off my wet shoes, I leave them to dry on the floor next to the washer. I’ll clean them up tomorrow.
The house is quiet as I make my way through the kitchen into the living room. Mom’s usually sitting on the sofa watching her favorite crime drama when I get home from work, but there’s no sign of her. I frown, wondering if she’s gone to bed with one of her migraines.
I make my way quietly upstairs so as not to disturb her when murmured voices and laughter reaches my ears. I look at my mom’s closed bedroom door. Oh, God! Is she entertaining? I’ve suffered through three stepfathers since my dad died when I was seven. The low murmurs and muted giggles sound very much like the noises that used to come from her room when she was bumping uglies with one of them.
Yep, that’s my mother. Discreet is not a word she’s familiar with. Many nights, I had to drag a pillow over my head to drown out the carnal grunts of her riding the bony express with the husband of the hour.
I’m just about to make my way into my room when Mom’s door flies open, and a strange man is standing there, completely naked, holding a used condom in his hand. I’m not sure who’s more shocked, him or me.
He recovers quickly, making no attempt to cover himself up. “Well, hello, sweet thing. I’m Ritchie. You come to join the party?” he asks with a creepy smile.
Heat seeps through my body, making my chest and face burn. I clench my jaw so hard my heads pounds, and I think my teeth may snap. The door behind the man creaks open a little, and I get a front-row seat of my mother’s naked body sprawled across the bed. This is the stuff nightmares are made of.
“Thanks, Roger, but I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen paperclips bigger than that,” I snap, casting a disgusted look at his cock.
“Maggie?” Mom calls from the bedroom. “I wasn’t expecting you home yet.”
Is she fucking kidding me? I get home at the same time every night.
Robert takes a step towards me and grabs my wrist. “Sure we can’t change your mind? We’ve got a whole box of these to get through,” he says, indicating the used condom dangling from his fingers.
I take a step back, yanking my wrist free, nausea boiling in my stomach.
“Leave her be, Ritchie. She may be my daughter, but she’s colder than a penguin’s ball sack,” Mom tells him.
Oh. My. God. Just when I think she can’t sink any lower, she goes and says shit like that. Fury bubbles up in my throat until I can barely speak through it. Tears threaten, but I push them down. I won’t let them see me cry.
“What kind of mother parades her conquests around in front of her daughter? Allows them to manhandle and proposition her?” I accuse her hotly.
“Oh, and she’s a drama queen,” Mom says to Ronnie, rolling her eyes.
It’s as if I haven’t spoken. I’m just a huge joke to this woman who calls herself my mother.
“I’m done,” I whisper, the anger draining out of me and leaving numbness in its place.
I walk into my bedroom, closing and locking the door behind me. Grabbing a large rucksack from the wardrobe, I start throwing clothes into it.
Time to put on my big girl panties and get the hell out of this house.
