Page 19 of Breaking Her


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I gave my despised father the coldest stare I could muster over my rage. "I said I'm not interested in prostitutes. Get her out of here."

She left in a huff, like I'd deeply offended her.

"I'm going to tell Mother about this," I told him when she was gone.

I hated that I sounded like a child as I said it.

"Ha!" He got a real kick out of that. "Go for it. You think she doesn't know what I'm up to? I can't divorce the cunt, but she sure as hell doesn't get to tell me where I put my dick."

I stared at him, glared, and hated that aside from the eyes, I was the very image of him. Only on the outside, I told myself.

It cannot be stated strongly enough—I hate my parents.

"I'm going to Gram's for the rest of the weekend. Any objections?"

He shrugged, waving me off. "Whatever. More for me. Have my driver take you."

One good thing came out of the weekend: He never insisted that I stay with him again.

CHAPTER FIVE

"If love is the answer, could you please rephrase the question?"

~Lily Tomlin

PRESENT

SCARLETT

It wasn't an easy drive to get to my friend Gina's house. It would've taken a solid hour without traffic, which was a laughable assessment. There was always traffic. It was an hour and a half if traffic was good, two and counting if it was the alternative, which it almost always was.

I loved driving, loved going fast, even in my shitty old sedan I wreaked havoc on the streets like I was racing every stranger I passed. God help me if I ever actually owned a car that could perform to match my mood.

I loved driving, yes, but no one loved driving in this town. It was a chore to get to my dear friend's house, but when she called, I answered. When she asked, I came if I could.

It was a one-sided kind of friendship. I never called her, never asked or invited myself. But some friendships are just designed that way. It's unavoidable. A give and take that we need even if it's not what we want.

Some people are put into our lives at just the right moment. Of this I am certain.

And the why of it was this woman. Gina.

Gina was the kind of nice that made everyone around her uncomfortable. If I so much as mentioned a hardship I had suffered, even a casual one that was years old, her eyes would water as though it was a fresh wound. There was nothing I despised more than receiving someone else's pity. It literally made my skin crawl, but I knew that she couldn't help herself.

Eugene, her husband, was not much better. He was more in touch with his emotions than a Care Bear. And not in an annoying way. Well, not completely. He had a method of disarming that was rare. He brought out the soft side in everyone, asked just the question that let you know he was in tune with your mood. That he cared, that he felt.

He was one of those sensitive men that had more of a hard-on for Adele than Angelina.

I secretly loved that about him, and I tried my best to behave when I came over to visit. I kept the more acidic side of my tongue to myself.

Mostly.

They lived in a mansion in the hills. A dream house beyond even my overinflated dreams. They were both successful entertainment attorneys that came from money, and everything about their life was a bit of a fairytale, but that didn't make me jealous or covetous. Unworthy, perhaps, but never jealous.

No one deserved a perfect life more than they did.

They greeted me as a pair at the door when I arrived, opening it before I could knock. Gina pulled me into a tight, long hug. She was a short, heavy blonde woman with a pretty face and at least fifteen years on me, though I'd never been so ill mannered as to actually ask her age. "How are you, gorgeous?" she said, beaming as she let me loose.

"Hanging in there," I said with a rueful smile, my best version of looking at things on the bright side.

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