waving above her head in excitement.
“A bitch?” Cal asked, his eyes dancing. I rolled my eyes to the heavens, asking for patience. When I looked back at him I explained, “She heard me use the word bitch and asked what it was, so I explained it to her.”
“Ah. I’m guessing you weren’t talking about a dog?”
My response was to glare at him again, which made him grin. Going back to the topic at hand I said, “Really, Cal, I don’t want a dog.” This was a lie. I wanted a dog. I even thought it was a good idea as a single woman living a little ways up the mountain to have one. I just didn’t want a dog from him .
“Ivey, you’re getting a dog. You’ve got two weeks to get used to the idea and come up with a name,” his voice was firm in the sense that I knew I couldn’t talk him out of it.
“Fine,” I snapped, sounding very ungrateful.
“As I said, baby, keep up the attitude.” He was coming closer toward me, his voice low and sexy, snaking an arm around my waist, and pulling me into his body. Remembering what he had said to me about giving him attitude, I started to panic. Oh no, he was not going to kiss me senseless in a park full of children! What was I saying? He was not going to kiss me senseless anywhere ! I had my hands on his chest pushing against him, trying to get free of his hold, but he only tightened his grip around my waist. His eyes were hot on me with a determination that scared me a little. I kept pushing when his other arm came up to hold me gently at the side of my neck. Then he brushed his lips across my cheek, close enough to the corner of my mouth that he slightly brushed the edge of my lips, let me go, and walked to his truck with Tommy right beside him.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, pretended that his soft kiss hadn’t made my stomach flutter, and turned around to see Macy standing close by, her head turned towards Cal’s retrieving back. Then she looked at me and started grinning big. I rolled my eyes at her and stomped away to play with the kids, completely ignoring her snicker.
Chapter Eight
Memories
Ivey
For most people, memories are something to cherish. Something to appreciate. Something to cling to in times of need.
Not for me.
For me, memories are something that has haunted me all my life.
They are something I try to forget.
To bury in the deep recesses of my mind, never to resurface again.
Be it my childhood memories that consisted of my father beating and abusing my mother while making me watch, of getting beaten so many times myself that I had created a rating system from one to ten, with one being just a slap across the face and ten having to find clothes that would cover up all the marks and bruises he had left, of feeling unprotected and abandoned by the two people that were supposed to love me unconditionally.
Of feeling so very alone.
No dance recitals, sleepovers, birthday parties, play dates, and girl scouts for me.
No, for me, there was only pain.
Be it in elementary school where I was too shy to talk to anyone, to look into anyone’s eyes; where I would spend recess sitting by myself under the tree, staring up at the sky, lost in thoughts—or if I was lucky and nobody snatched it away from me, I would be on the swing with my head bent back, my face up to the sky, my long hair touching the ground, eyes closed, pretending I was flying away, disappearing in the clouds, never to be seen again.
Be it my teenage years when instead of enjoying parties with my friends, getting drunk and doing stupid shit, going out on dates and dances, falling in love with my first boyfriend, brought me nothing but humiliation.
Or be it during my college years when I promised myself a fresh start, a new life, a life free of violence and degradation, when I had thought I had finally broken through all the darkness and would be free to be me, fate again taught me a lesson and knocked me back down where I belonged.
So, no good and happy
Margaret Campbell Barnes
Krystle Jones
Season of the Machete
Luis Samways
Tiffany Madison
Jillian Michaels
Douglas Brunt
Ravyn Wilde
A.M. Anderson
Sophia Hampton