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But I can’t just stand here all day.
I turn away from the window, fully prepared to do an internet search to see if ‘ax-wielding porn’ is a thing. But then I decide that I’m not brave enough to see what sort of scary shit I’d find after typingthatinto a search bar.
What the hell is wrong with me?!
My ex has moved on. He’s going around town with a fuck friend, for crying out loud. Yet here I am, fantasizing about him like I’m still a horny teenager.
Let’s not even talk about the vivid sex dream I had starring Davis last night. I swear, I could feel his hands on me and his erection against my ass in my sleep.
When I get a flashback to the way I was dry-humping him on the floor mere minutes ago, my cheeks flush. That was definitely not my finest moment.
Shameful, shameful, shameful.
Gotta admit—my self-respect is at an all-time low. Yes. The man is my ex-husband. But would I let him nail me to this little bed and fuck me into oblivion? Yes, most certainly, yes. One hundred percent.
Nevertheless, there are boundaries between us now. And I have to respect them. Even though it sucks.
Since I’m feeling shitty about myself today, I decide to dress for comfort. I tug on a chunky cardigan with a tank top and some mismatched sweatpants. After folding up all the blankets and making the tiny bed we slept in, I power on my phone. It dings with notifications as soon as I do, but it’s the one from my bank that catches my eye first.Suspicious debit card activity.
What..?
Hottie lumberjack ex-husband forgotten, I drop down to the mattress and open my bank app. It only takes seconds to find exactly what I’m looking for. I scroll through the transactions posted to my account. With a frustrated growl, I immediately call the person who Iknowis behind this.
“Mom, did you use my bank card?” I ask as soon as she answers, no preamble needed.
“What? No, of course n—”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Mom—don’t lie to me. You’ve been overdrawing on my accounts for weeks, and I see all of the charges right here on my statement.”
She dry-coughs with wild abandon into the ear piece. I have to yank the device away from my ear so I don’t go deaf.
“Okay. Fine,” she reluctantly admits in her trademark gravelly voice. “I only use it in case of emergencies, and I needed some things from the store.”
“Some ‘things’, huh?” I shake my head. “Mom, you can’t just steal money from people. If you need something, please ask me.”
Lord knows I’d just give her almost anything she asks for. I struggle with a little thing called ‘no’.
My mother scoffs through the phone. “Come on, Alana. I just needed to buy food. You’re going to get on my case over a few groceries? Gonna sue me over some bread and eggs? You want your own momma to starve to death? Or should I go shoplift to feed myself? And your little brother? Your sister and your nephew?” She sniffles dramatically, making me feel like the bad guy. As always.
She’s the innocent victim, and I’m the heartless jerk.
“Seriously, Mom…? Seriously?” She just hit my sore spot and she knows it.
I’m sure her grocery story is only half the truth—at best. And I definitely never gave her my card or my account numbers, but when my mother wants something, she’s quite resourceful. I’ll give her that. To put it nicely, that woman is one dodgy character. How the heck was she even able to access my account?
Except, I know the answer to that question, too.
“I really hope it wasn’tyouridea to have myseventeen-year-oldbrotherhack into my accounts,” I seethe.
“What?! Where do you get off making accusations like that?” She almost sounds convincing. Almost. Too bad I already know her M.O.
Juliette Haywood has never shied away from using her kids to do her dirty work.
But I don’t have the energy to deal with her. So per usual, I let it go.
“Mom, I’ve got to go,” I say tiredly. I look out the window to where Jimmy is handing Davis log after log, letting my ex-husband do all the heavy work. “Just please ask if you need money. I could then at least avoid the overdraft fees and bank security getting involved.”
“Fine, fine.” She gives me fake assurances, and we say our bitter goodbyes.
