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When Brad says that nickname, it feels like spiders are crawling up my arm. Although it rubs me the wrong way when Trent says it, it’s nothing like when Brad does. Trent might hate me, but Brad makes it sound dirty.
“There is no part of me that is a princess, and you of all people should know that,” I snap. Inhaling, I forge on, “You’ll get the money for the utility bills, but it won’t be three grand. I’ll call you when I have what I can get. Pass that on to Erin.”
I hang up the phone, annoyed.
He’s not kidding. I’m sure Erin is driving him crazy. I know she has some money, but she’s probably just used not to having to pay for her own utilities and credit card bills.
In the past, everything was automatically deducted from a fund Ronald made for her. An allowance of sorts. Even for the first year that he was gone, he paid for everything.
Shortly before Ronald died, the money just stopped getting sent out. Which was why Erin started freaking. Even with my suspicions about Ronnie’s undesirable behavioral traits, I have no doubt Erin is at fault. She must have done something for her to lose access to the funds.
And instead of owning up to her mistakes, I’m the one being forced to go to Trent and beg for more.
Which I know will cost me so much pain and suffering from him.
I’m so sick of all this bullshit.
I turn around and walk faster, my anger and frustration pouring out of me in tears.
The train ride back to Trent’s is a blur. Literally. I can’t see past the rim of hot, unshed tears coating my eyes. I swipe at them before I reach his office.
I should wait until I’m alone to cry, but I can’t hold them back. I don’t even know why I returned here. Why I didn’t say fuck it and go to class like I should’ve. But I know I’m weak right now, and I need to get out of here before anyone sees.
By the time I make it to the front door, I’m practically sobbing, and if my day isn’t bad enough, I walk into a wall.
Except it’s not a wall.
Walls don’t smell this good.
“Hold up, princess.”
Trent’s arms wrap around my shoulders, steadying me so I don’t fall over.
I feel like crawling into a hole and dying. It’s not bad enough I had to see him, but I have to see him when I’m crying and sobbing like an idiot.
With his hands still holding on to my shoulders, I continue to look at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. But then his right hand drops, and I feel it touch my jaw. He lifts my head.
“Wait. What’s wrong?” he asks.
The care and concern in his voice is enough to give me pause.
“Nothing.”
He looks into my eyes, and it unnerves me. It makes my body fall forward, wrap around him, and cry.
Sob.
I’m freaking holding on to the enemy and sobbing into his arms.
And as much as I want to pull away, I can’t.
I physically can’t move.
Instead, my body slumps forward even more. A muffled cry escapes my lips. I let out all the emotions. The pain of the past twenty-one years. The fear of what’s to come. The heartbreak of having family that doesn’t love me.
And during my episode . . .
Trent Aldridge holds me.
