Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
It has been two weeks since I’ve seen my father, or Wicked, for that matter. It’s like he fucked me, licked me better, made me feel some type of way about him, and then left. I don’t want to ask my mom where he is because I never have before and I don’t want to make it obvious that I’m mainly asking for Wicked. I could use Poppy, but, well, everyone with a set of eyes can see she’s having the best time of her life without her brother hovering over her. Sometimes, Dad would be gone for weeks on end, even months. And like Poppy, it never bothered me because I had freedom when he wasn’t here… but this is different. I’m afraid.
Afraid because I know that when Wicked comes back, he won’t be the same boy who left. Because the dirty claws of my father will be well deep in his skin.
“So,” Poppy says, pushing herself off the edge of the pool and floating toward where I’m sitting on a floating bed. “How are you a virgin? You literally have hot guys around you all the time. At school, and at home.” I know she isn’t talking about her brother, but I still flinch. “Is it the whole dad being a mafia boss thing?”
I smile tensely at her. Sunrays burn my skin, so I cup water from the pool and spill it over my tanned belly. “I’ve just never been interested, and trust me, the guys around the house are not hot.”
She turns her head to the side, pushing the glasses down the rim of her nose. The day Wicked and my dad left, my mom told me to take Poppy shopping. She had good taste. Different to mine with all her quirky, hippie-type patterns, but good. “What about him? Revio?”
I choke on a cough, reaching for my margarita that’s probably melted from the sun before leaning back in my sunbed. “No. Definitely not.”
“But he is who you are going to be with?”
I swallow the strong tequila. “Not if I have something to say about it.” Just as I finish the sentence, Revio saunters toward us, shoving his hand into his pocket and using his other to remove his glasses. He gets close enough to the pool to not get his loafers wet, before he kneels down and scoops up a cup of water playfully.
“Rubs, we have an event tonight. Papa’s orders.” My mouth slams closed. My heart races but not in the way that I like it to. In a perfect world, I won’t have to hold hands with Revio. It’s not that he does anything in particular to annoy me, I just don’t like him.
“What time?”
He flicks the water in his hand onto me. “I’ll pick you up at eight. It’s a charity gala for the homeless in the city.”
I nod. “I’ll be waiting.” I watch as he goes back the same way he just came. I know better than to give him ammunition, and as usual, what Papa says goes.
“Hey, can I come?” Poppy asks, sliding out of the floaty tube and pushing herself back to the surface of the water.
“Sure, but we will need to go shopping again.”
Before Poppy can even interrupt and ask if she can get a job or work around the house, my mom walks down the outside stairs, carrying a bottle of water. I watch as her long silk gown trails with the wind. My mama is beautiful. Papa knew exactly what he was doing the day he laid eyes on her.
“Hey, girls, make sure you use SPF fifty.” She lowers herself down onto the cobble path, dipping her French manicured foot into the water. She inhales, leaning her face up to the sun. Mama has golden skin that darkens through the year and bright blue eyes. Her soft wavy brown hair is always glossy, and her face doesn’t have a single wrinkle. She’s only thirty-four but somehow still manages to look twenty-four.
“What’s the matter, baby?” she asks, and I realize she’s looking right at me, pushing the water around her feet while gawking between Poppy and me. “Rubs?”
I smile widely at her. “Nothing, Mama.” Nothing but the fact that you deserve the world, and I don’t mean the one we’re currently living in.
“Oh!” Ma says, pushing up from the ground until she’s standing straight. “Your cousins are coming in from Sicily.”
Oh no.
“They’re already here but won’t get to the house until we’re home from the event tonight. Make sure they don’t trash the house, will you?” She starts rambling off in Arabic as she waltzes back into the house.
“Your cousins?” Poppy asks, and I slip from the blow-up bed and sink into the water.
“You don’t even want to know.”
“Oh… but I do!”
I splash water on her and throw a towel onto her lap. “Get out of the pool. Let’s go spend Papa’s money.”