The Awakening by TL Travis

Author:TL Travis [Travis, TL]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vamptasy Publishing
Published: 2017-10-05T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

Black Friday, the dreaded day of death for all retail associates. I awake famished, my dark prince still soundly sleeps beside me, so I quietly tiptoe my way downstairs. After pouring a bowl of Count Chocula, (somehow, he knew of my secret love affair with the infamous Count), I sit down at the breakfast bar basking in the afterglow of last night.

Shortly thereafter, David surfaces. He darts through the kitchen, heading straight to the refrigerator before promptly ripping the top off two bags of blood, draining them in a matter of seconds. I am enthralled by this gruesome show.

“Sorry Jess, I could have handled that better, but damn, girl, you drained me.” He winks.

How can I be mad after that?

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?” he asks.

“Not one bit. It was everything I imagined and more.” He acts as though he doesn’t believe me so I think I’ll prove it to him. “Wanna have another go so I can show you just how unscathed I am?”

“Baby, I don’t have enough blood in the fridge for another round.”

We laugh.

I go upstairs to put myself together, reluctantly saying goodbye before heading home. I have dogs to take care of, mounds of laundry to wash and figure I should probably spend some time with my dad. It might be nice and have dinner with my folks. Nothing can ruin my mood, or so I thought…

My mother doesn’t waste any time, as soon as I walk in she lays right into me, “Where have you been? Parading around like the town whore. You’re a disgrace and this behavior is unacceptable.”

Well, there goes my mood. I look to my father for backup, but he keeps his face pointed at the TV. Looks like I’m on my own yet once again.

I try to take the high road and avoid an argument by walking away, but as I turn to walk away she makes a crucial mistake of grabbing my arm and yelling, “Don’t you walk away from me. I’m not finished with you.”

That opens the floodgates to eighteen plus years of pent up anger and hostility. “First and foremost Mother, and I use that term loosely, don’t ever touch me again and do not pretend you care. You’ve never given me the time of day. You know nothing about me and I’m not a whore. You both knew exactly where I was and who I was with because I texted Dad and told him.”

She turns to my father who stays focused on the TV. Well, now I know where I stand and it’s obvious my mother has my father whipped. Pathetic.

The battle rages on.

“Don’t you dare talk to me that way, I’m your mother.”

“Mother? You call yourself a mother? You did nothing more than give birth then you handed me over to Dad. I don’t remember you ever telling me you loved me or held me when I needed you to console me and tell me everything would be all right. Don’t you dare call yourself a mother.

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