Taking the envelope, I tear it open, and my hands freeze when I pull out a check.
“What the hell is this?” I breathe, my stomach tightening and embarrassment washing over my skin.
“Look, I know you wanted my dad to chose you for their scholarship program, but he had already picked someone else. He offered you a donation instead.”
Five hundred dollars? What is that going to pay for?
He just paid me for services rendered.
Sickness swirls inside me.
“You knew this before you made me suck your dick,” I almost vomit.
“Now, now, don’t be like that.”
“Fuck you, Reese,” I push open the door and flee into the chilly evening air.
When I get far enough from his truck, I pull out his cell phone I pocketed while he was distracted.
Gemma Rodes will regret ever fucking with me.
I bring up his chat with her.
Just like I knew there would be, I find the nudes she sent him, and then I hit the jackpot: a video message of her dancing naked in front of the camera.
I click upload to Facebook status, then drop the phone down the nearest drain.
Fuck you both.
Five
Chapter
ERIK
All it takes to find her is putting her email address and our hometown into the secure site, PeopleFinder.
I wait with bated breath as it searches.
The stupid, spinning-loading circle mocks me, keeping her hidden from my grasp for a few minutes.
My heartbeat races, unsteady in my chest, when it finally spits out the results.
Her.
You.
Alice.
It took me all of two minutes to find you.
This is what you wanted, why you left your email.
Such a dangerous game you’re playing.
My blood pulses so hard through my body.
I throb with anticipation as I click on her social media links.
There you are, out there for us all to look at.
An array of images fill my screen, inviting me into her life.
So young, like I suspected, but I didn’t think you would be so fucking beautiful. So fucking perfect.
Her name slips through my lips like it’s supposed to be spoken from them. Alice.
She has sixty-five friends.
Most of them are from her school.
Her date of birth suggests she should have left school a year ago. She’s nineteen.
So young.
I dissect her page, learning everything I can from it.
It shows me that you’re a completely different person now compared to who you used to be.
That smile is vacant, those eyes tormented.
Her profile tells a story.
She wasn’t always this meek, broken girl.
She was once happy, popular, and hopeful.
But something changed two years ago.
What changed, my sweet Alice?
I go back to the PeopleFinder results and see an address.
A local search tells me it’s owned by a Karen Young.
Your mother?
I take a photo of the address and save the recent photo of her.
You’re in a pair of barely there jean shorts and a white vest top that shows your erect nipples through the fabric.
You’re leaning against a motorcycle and biting your lower lip.
Dark hair sits around your shoulders and flirts with your waist.
Do you know how tempting you are?
I stare up at the small, two-story property. An old Chevy is stationed in the driveway.
The lights are on inside, and I can make out a TV flicking through the drapes of the living room.
Are you in there?
I bring up the image I saved of her on my phone and study it.
My finger stroking down her pretty, divine face. Flawlessness.
Pale skin, dark hair, dark eyes, petite nose and thick lips.
An angel with broken wings.
I can see the pain in her eyes, seeking rescue from her life.
My cock throbs from the confines of my slacks, demanding attention just thinking about it.
Sweet, fucking Alice. I need to know you, and you want me to know you, otherwise why be so available for me to find?
Unzipping my slacks, I pull my cock free, and spit on my palm and take it in my tight fist, squeezing the tip punishingly before loosening the hold and stroking down the shaft.
I imagine tears in your brown, doe-like eyes, your breath quickening, that fat bottom lip quivering as your heart splutters in your chest when you realize I’m coming for you.
Boo, little Alice.
Six
Chapter
ALICE
Pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, I give up trying to feed the corpse with a pulse that slightly resembles what was once my mother and wipe her chin.
She’s wasting away here and needs to be in a proper care facility, but that shit costs money and ours is gone, spent on medical bills.
I put the radio on to keep her company and leave her room.
Fred, her waste of time husband, sits stationed in his armchair.
The only time the asshole leaves it is to get another beer from the fridge.
He tries to convince us he can’t work because he’s my mother’s caregiver, but he can barely stand to look at her these days let alone do any caretaking.
Shedding my clothes once I’m upstairs in my own room, I grab a towel and go to the bathroom.