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“You couldn’t be bothered to buy milk or watch her this evening. You’d rather spend my money, the money I gave you for our child on pussy and beer. You’re not a man. Not a real one. You’re a selfish piece of shit.” The second the words leave my mouth, he grabs my shoulders and shakes me.
“Was man enough to marry you.” His spit flies at my face.
“Because I got pregnant. Not because you love me. You married me to get my father off your back.”
“Fuck you.” He thrusts a palm into my shoulder. “Nothing is ever good enough for Princess Zoe.”
I swallow and pick my purse up again.
“Please be gone when I come back. I’ll have my brother with me,” I warn.
“I’m not scared of that pussy.”
“You should be.”
He lunges toward me, and I grab a steak knife from the butcher’s block on the counter. “Touch me again, and it’ll be the last thing you ever do.”
Present Day
“Kiesha, what time do I need to pick you up after the game?”
“I’ll text you when it’s over.”
“How about when the last quarter starts?”
“Fine,” she huffs, storming past me.
“Hold up. Stop right there and turn around.”
“What for?” She snaps.
“Don’t take that tone with me. I want to see what you’re wearing.”
I can already sense her eyes rolling before she turns around. Raising teen girls is its own form of torture, but I wouldn’t trade my daughters for anything in the world.
At least with Kimber, I know I don’t need to worry about her as much. She’s living with her bad ass biker, Austin Navarro, or as everyone calls him, Nav.
He wouldn’t have been my first choice for her, however he’s proven himself loyal. I don’t have to worry if he’s treating her right. Link would kill him along with the rest of the club. He’s a Royal Bastard. A member of the same notorious motorcycle club my brother belongs to.
I had it rough with Kimber and all the drama she had when she was in high school. Kiesha makes her sister look like a saint. She sneaks out. Turns off her location on her phone. Drives me crazy with worry.
“Is that supposed to be a shirt?” I rub my temple as she gives me that disgusted scrunched up nose expression all teenage girls seemed to have mastered the day they hit puberty.
Her hand slides to her cocked-out hip in a flash. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“I’m wondering where the rest of your shirt went?”
“It’s the style. Duh.”
“Watch that tone or you’ll be spending the night hanging with me.”
“Like you want me in the way of your night with Prodigy,” she singsongs his name.
“It’s not like that.” Prodigy is a member of the same club as my brother and Nav. I should stay away, but there’s something about him that keeps me interested. He’s sweet yet rough around the edges.
“Yeah. Okay. Whatever.”
Beep. Beep.
