Page 124 of Trailer Trash

Immediately, I see Killian. I feel him all around, like a force blocking me from stepping forward. His words, good and bad, replay. Three ring loudest:.

Whore. Trash. Nothing.

I push past Killian’s invisible shield and walk toward Evan.

Every step feels wrong. Even when I kneel, the voice in my head begs me to stop.

I don’t.

I know his smell, the shape and taste of him, yet it’s not the same.

“Make it good,” he murmurs.

I obey.

I bob my head faster, I apply the right pressure.

I blow my freaking ex.

“Uhh,” he moans. “Oh, yeah, Harlow. I’m close. Swallow for me.”

I wince, but he doesn’t notice.

I want Killian.

I wish it were him. Just the thought makes my heart speed up.

Imagine him.

So I do and move my head rapidly, visualizing his shaft in my mouth instead.

When the hot, salty release hits the back of my throat, I swallow it as I was told.

It’s done.

It’s over.

I’m the whore I already was.

I move to the kitchen and wash my hands, and rinse out my mouth. Evan sends me the money over a cash app.

“Let’s watch TV another time,” I say.

He doesn’t fight. He looks a little awkward himself. We hug and say goodbye.

Once he leaves, I hold onto the kitchen counter, trying to decide if what I did was life-changing.

I take an excessively long shower, then fall into my bed where I cry until my throat hurts.

“What a night from hell.”

I hate Killian. I hoped I would be in bed with him.

No, I shouldn’t be thinking that I actually could’ve been with someone so unlike me. That’s what I hate most.

As much as Killian made me feel worthless, he somehow made me believe he’d actually choose me.

Killian. With me. His girl. Maybe one day his wife. And she’s trailer trash.