Try (Temptation Series)(133)
Tick, tick, tock—three.
“Addison? I’m going to ask you again.”
He’s concerned. They’re all concerned by what happened, but it’s too late.
Tick, tick, tock—
“Remember, anything you say in here stays right here.”
One.
They think I’m sick, that I’m…damaged.
“When did you last see Grayson?”
I tell him nothing. I never will.
“It’s okay to be open in here, Addison. No one is going to judge.”
That’s not true, I’m judging him.
“We just need to know. Where did you last see Grayson?”
Tickoneticktwotick—“You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”—fuck!
I hate interruptions. He knows that. Plus, I wouldn’t be sitting here if he didn’t think I should be ashamed.
“Okay, Addison.”
I wish he’d stop saying my name like that. It reminds me of…
“We’ll try this again tomorrow.”
And we will, that he’s not lying about. But I no longer care. What do I have left? Nothing. He is gone. I’m alone and all I can hear is…tick, tick…
Chapter One
Past…
Tock.
I looked at the watch strapped to my wrist before turning my head to Brandon.
“Hurry,” I urged, as he pulled me down hard onto his lap. With a groan, I craned my neck back, gasping into the tight interior of my car.
“What the hell Addy? I just got inside you.”
Straddling his lap, I ceased grinding against him, and glared instead.
“Well if you hadn’t been late…” I started, but he cut me off by sitting up in the passenger seat and connecting his mouth to mine.
“Quit bitching would you?”
I pulled my head back, twisting my fingers painfully through his brown hair.
“Fuck! That hurts.”
“You know how I am about this kind of shit.”
“It’s the first day back. No one’s gonna care if you’re five minutes late.”
“I’ll care.”
With a rough flex of his hips, he shoved himself further inside of me.
I guess he was right…who was going to care if I was a little late on the first day? It’s not like anyone would say anything to me anyway. I was poor little Addy. Plus, I hadn’t had sex in months since my mother had planned my entire summer vacation, down to the very last detail.
Brandon grunted as he moved inside of me again. Class could wait, but quickly I glanced at my watch again anyway, nasty habit—Tick, tick, tock—one.
~
I was late, just what I needed on my first day of my senior year. Then again, it wasn’t like any of my teachers would mention it, they didn’t dare.
Peering at myself in the girl’s restroom mirror, I was careful to make sure my lip gloss was perfect. My hair was falling in soft mahogany waves that I had painstakingly curled that morning, and my clothes were all where they should be after my earlier activities.
Raising my chin, I studied the reflection staring back at me. Narrowing my eyes, I pouted my lips. Doc was always sprouting some shit about inner beauty being important, but once I heard a quote from Marilyn Monroe that said, Boys think girls are like books. If the cover doesn't catch their eye they won't bother to read what's inside. In my opinion, she had a much more accurate take on these kinds of things. So as usual, I was careful to make sure that this cover was extra eye catching.
I peeked at my timekeeper, faithfully guarding me, and followed the second hand as it made its rounds. I wished it would hurry up and get to the twelve because then I’d feel right about leaving. Instead, I was held in place, in front of the mirror—by invisible chains.
Tick, tick, tock—two.
~
First day on the job, and I already wanted out.
I scrawled my name across the chalkboard, like the responsible teacher I was expected to be. Unfortunately the smell of the chalk, and the scrape of it along the board did nothing to make me feel responsible, it just made me want to leave.
The clock hanging on the wall of my World History classroom was driving me crazy. I hadn’t been anywhere recently where I needed a clock or a watch, and the reminder that I was back on somebody else’s schedule was irritating as hell.
I’d just gotten back from six months of traveling across Europe—to now be restricted to four walls and a door made me irritable. The tie that I wore around my neck felt as though it was about to choke the life from me, and right then I would have welcomed it.
Not coming home hadn’t been an option. The minute I’d been told about my father’s deteriorating health, I knew I had to go to him. So thirteen hours and fifty minutes later, I was back home in Boulder, Colorado—a little over a month ago.