The Gangs of Arcadia: An Alternate History Reverse Harem Tale (Gangland Princess Book 1) by Ava Hall

Author:Ava Hall [Hall, Ava]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

13

Lena

Tommy left for work the next morning, well… that morning, leaving me to my lonesome all day. There were bruise-like pits under his eyes, and I felt guilty I’d kept him up all through the wee hours with my woes. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep before it was time to head off to the factory, he’d barely had time to percolate a cup of coffee, and his own problems still hung between us like a fat, juicy spider neither of us would address. Once my head became a little clearer, I’d have to sit him down for good and tell him why he shouldn’t be messing with potes, but I’d given him enough grief for the next couple of days.

Once Tommy’d left, I tried myself to catch a couple of winks, but it was impossible. My face felt bruised and puffy from crying, and my cheeks felt scrubbed raw from my salty tears and furious eye wiping. I felt like a wrung-out washcloth with nothing left to drip. After pouring my heart out to Tommy, there wasn’t anything left in the tank, and I laid on his couch for a while and reflected on the hollow feeling that sank in my gut. There was no good choice. What the hell was I thinking getting mixed up with two gang members? Rivals at that, and right under my father’s nose. I knew somewhere I had more sense than this, and I was going to have to own up and face it all one day. I couldn’t run from my father forever.

But maybe I could run for one more day.

I heaved myself off of the ol’ floral couch with a heavy sigh and tried to make myself presentable. Tommy had given me permission to use any of his clothes, makeup, or toiletries, and I was sorely glad my best friend had a penchant for stylish women's clothing. I’d left my parents’ house with nothing but the clothes on my back, not even an extra pair of underwear or a toothbrush.

Getting ready made me feel an iota better, but I wasn’t thrilled with what I saw in the mirror. My long, dark hair seemed devoid of any luster, and I’d plaited it into a simple braid that hung over my shoulder like a lank rope. Just like Tommy, the bags under my eyes looked like fresh, puffy bruises, but the rawness in my cheeks sorta looked like blush, so I guess that was a plus. I’d snagged some of Tommy’s mascara and red lipstick, but even with a little paint on the barn, my face looked pale and blotchy. At least my outfit was cute. I’d found a tapered pair of high-waisted, plaid trousers in Tommy’s closet that hugged my curves in all the right ways, and the simple, short-sleeved maroon blouse I’d paired it with did wonders for my girls topside. Maybe everyone would be too busy checking out my figure to notice how terribly haggard the rest of me looked.

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