Ford
“What is that on your neck?” My mother asks as I get back in and seat myself at the kitchen marble island. I raise my hand to my neck knowing full well what she is referring to.
“Nothing. A hickey,” I reply nonchalantly. It’s none of my mother’s business that Tatum bit me. Usually, I wouldn’t have such an attitude with my mother, she is everything to me and always has been a good mother. She cares about me, she loves me. Not that my father doesn’t but he is less emotional with me than my mother. To him, I am his successor and must be trained to take his place.
“It doesn’t look like nothing to me, Ford. It looks like fang bites,” she places the tea towel down on the island and moves towards me and tilts my head out of the way to get a closer look.
I tut and let out a sigh. “I told
