I let her go because I know she just had a come-to-Jesus moment. I sure did.
I let her go because I know I’ll see that fine ass again. I know where she works—my new favorite casino: Harrah’s, the place you go to get platinum ass.
I get in my car and turn her over, moving back to watch as her platinum ass pulls out onto the Strip. The radio is playing “Show Me” by Chris Brown and Kid Ink, and I am all sorts of fucking good.
Chapter 8
Hailey
Checks and balances. The scorecard is even with Caldwell. As hard as I try to convince myself that I owe him nothing, however, it’s not working.
He put his mouth on me, on my body.
I run my hand over my breasts and down my stomach as my skin continues to tingle from his touch. How much more have I messed up my life in my moment of weakness tonight? How did this all spin out of control so damn fast?
I smack myself in the face. Snap out of it, Hailey. How could I have allowed myself to be mesmerized by a suit-wearing fucker again?
If the car hadn’t honked, would I have stopped him?
My mind races as I go through the motions. Stopping at a red light, I sit in idle, looking down at my trembling hands, noticing that my ring finger still has the indention from wearing my bands for so many years.
Have I become the whore my mother was? I promised Marisa I would give her better. Yet tonight, under the bright Vegas lights, I lost myself once again to a man.
Reaching up, I touch a trembling hand to my swollen mouth, and my mind immediately goes back to the feel of his lips on me. He had his mouth on me. He made my body come alive under him, and I was helpless to stop myself. The sensations…Never, ever have I felt what I felt tonight, even before he touched me. Just working him up in our verbal spar had my panties wet.
I drop my head in shame. Am I that desperate for attention?
A horn honking behind me makes me jump. Looking up, I see that the light has turned green, and more embarrassment fills me as I fumble to get my head focused on driving home.
Home.
Tears prick at the back of my eyes. The small room Marisa and I occupy is not a home. How am I going to get out of this mess? I need to focus on the hustle. I need to get into a game, not waste time fooling around with a high roller who only wants a roll in the sheets. I cannot allow myself to get caught up again.
I turn on the radio, needing a distraction, and “Tell Me Why” by Three Days Grace is playing. Story of my fucking life, but I have the one thing I love, and I will protect her with my life.
Finally home, I prepare for my shower. Turning on the water, I sigh as I run my hand over my naked body, and memories of his touch rush back again. I wash as my body tingles with more need, and finish more frustrated than I was to begin with.
I’ve made mistake after mistake after bloody mistake. Am I ever going to get anything right?
I make Marisa breakfast after I wake her up. Then we pack up her lunch and I take her to her preschool.
She goes half days to a local pre-K for three-year-olds. It has been great socialization for her and a welcome break for me since leaving Monte, allowing me the time to sort out some things in our life. Before, she only went because Monte felt that was the “appropriate” thing for her to do, but of course it was added to my balance sheet, as the school didn’t come cheap.
“Mrs. Timmons, I don’t know how to tell you this.” Carrie, the school director, comes out from her office to talk to me.
I give Marisa a quick goodbye, send her off to her classroom, then nod, wide-eyed, at Carrie.
“Your husband called, and he explained your separation. He also informed us that you would be covering Marisa’s tuition.”
My heart sinks, my stomach drops, and suddenly my feet feel like complete lead. Checks and balances. Tip the scales to stay in control—that is Monte’s mentality.
After a moment, she continues, “Mr. Timmons also said you could call him to discuss payment arrangements with him should you need assistance in caring for your daughter.”
I drop to my knees in front of her as my world crumbles further. Tears freely flow down my face, and I don’t care who sees me. Carrie gives me this, but not for long. She has a school to run, and it’s not good for business to have a mom on her knees in the entryway. Therefore, when she gives my shoulder a firm squeeze, I take that as my silent cue to get my shit straight, and fast.
Checks and balances.
Squaring my shoulders, I stand and wipe my tears. Tip the scales all you want, Monte. I will not bow, and I will not break.
—
Spending my morning crunching numbers, I find that, as long as we can stay with Jamie for a few months, I can pay the tuition. I can’t make payments to Monte, but Marshall has gotten me an extra few months, which gives me time to get in the game.
I have to get in one of the games.