Chapter 59: Facing the Fact
June 15
I awoke to, one, the strong smell of Clay’s dried semen on my sheets, and, two, boisterous screaming that emanated from downstairs. Although the succulent smells of eggs, bacon, and warm butter filled the entire confines of the Tudor, all hell started to break loose on the first floor, preventing me from sleeping in.
Because of the unplanned ruckus of the morning hours, I jumped out of bed, slipped on my previous day’s pair of boxer-briefs, and made a quick descent to all the commotion. Skipping steps on the stairwell, I sounded like a heard of buffalo, thudding over one, three, five, seven, eleven, and thirteen until I reached the bottom, landing on oak boards.
I heard masculine yelling, a clattering dish that crashed to the floor and shattered into
