Fearless Mating by Milly Taiden

Author:Milly Taiden
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2018-04-17T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-three

As Candy sat on the floor of her office with a man who enticed her too much, emotions she didn’t want to deal with bubbled inside her, ready to explode like a volcano. It had taken her a long time to suppress the tumultuous disaster her life was, to push it down so far inside, it would never see the light of day. Apparently, that wasn’t enough.

Here she was pouring her heart out to a man she didn’t know, but was highly attracted to. There was something about him that made her want to trust him. Believe in him. Talking to him was so easy, too easy. Like they had been best friends for years. Mates.

Thinking back to when her mother died made her want to curl into a ball and cry until the pain was gone. But that wouldn’t happen. She hadn’t cried since she was twelve. The ache would forever be there, ready to eat her alive when helpless against it. Solution: don’t be vulnerable. She sat up straighter and yanked down her white T-shirt.

“You didn’t really kill your mother. Did you?” The way he asked sounded funny in her ears. Like he didn’t believe she would do that. Then again, maybe he would. She laughed, releasing some pent-up emotion.

“No, I didn’t,” she confirmed. “The drunk prick did. But I was the cause of it.” She took herself back to that awful day. She would finally tell someone the horrible truth of the moment that had changed her young life.

“I had come home from school angry because my favorite teacher was going on maternity leave and would be gone for a few months. Her substitute was a grouchy old man who liked to call you out in front of the class to ‘teach you a lesson.’

“When I came through the kitchen door, Mom was cooking dinner. Spaghetti with hot dogs cut up in it. My favorite, but it didn’t cheer me up. I stomped over the linoleum toward the other room. I told my mom I was mad at Mrs. Carpenter and wasn’t going back to school, ever. She smiled and asked me how I had arrived at that conclusion. I had reached the stairs in the living room at the point and hollered back to her, ‘She’s leaving because she’s pregnant.’

“My father popped up from his recliner, nearly empty bottle of Jack clutched in his hand. I knew right away I shouldn’t have yelled. He looked around confused, like he’d never been in the house before. ‘Who’s pregnant?’ he stammered, holding on to the back of the stained recliner for support. His expression turned to the mean hate I knew meant trouble.

“He staggered toward the kitchen. ‘The bitch ain’t ever leaving me.’ I ran after him when he burst through the swinging door into the kitchen. I pulled on his arm, telling him it was a mistake. My teacher was pregnant and leaving, not Mom. He didn’t hear me. He had an excuse to rant and rave and he was going to take it.

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