“You’re going to have to tell me about him eventually you know,” Jen sighs from the other side of my bedroom door last night. “Mr Ashford Hawthorne?”
“I really don’t!” I chime back. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
That’s a lie. When I’m not thinking about my epic fail of life I’m remembering the hungry expression on his face when his teeth yanked down my bra and vest strap.
How easily he yanked me up into the air and made me his possession. How I had to sit in a police station, knowing my panties were f*****g flooded from being so close to him again.
Jen tries again. “So what happened to the lawyer he recommended?”
“Nothing, it wasn’t a real offer. Waste of time,” I lie again. I haven’t phoned.
“Cora…you’re going to be okay you know. It’s okay to reset.”
“I hope you crush your i
