“Fuck her harder,” he ordered. The blonde obeyed, and Annika screamed like a feral animal. She continued to squirt endlessly but watched as Rhys gave it to the blonde hard and deep. She was in some sort of sexual purgatory, filled with lust and jealousy, desire and confusion. Rhys paused to reposition and stuck his cock back into her pussy, spitting on the opening before thrusting. He was fully hard again.
Rhys grunted and pinched her large pink nipples.
“Cum, Kat, cum on me, you little bitch.”
Annika could tell he wanted to blow his load, but the blonde was goading him, so he was holding out to spite her.
“Yeah, give it to me. Fuck my pussy. Make me cum, you piece of shit,” the blonde hissed. Then she pulled her dildo out of Annika and slapped her ass with surprising force. Annika moaned weakly.
“Turn over,” she ordered. Annika’s body was so shaky; she could barely oblige. Then she began to lick the Rhys’ juices off Annika’s face, rubbing those luscious breasts over her body as she trailed up and down, lapping up every last drop. Rhys couldn’t take it. He moaned and shuddered, again, pulling his member out and raining cum all over them both. He stopped to catch his breath and then smiled at the blonde.
“You always were a great fuck,” he told her affectionately as she slipped back into her clothes. In spite of Annika’s stoned and semi-injured state, she noticed the blonde was using her shirt to wipe the mess off her body and face.
“I know,” the blonde retorted before tossing the clothing at Annika and leaving the two alone in the bedroom without a backward glance. Annika tried to sit up, but she was still trembling from the amount she had expelled. She had never climaxed that many times in her life combined. Then, to her dismay, she began to cry. The combination of sexual emotion, drugs, alcohol, and hurt she was feeling about the sexy blonde’s participation in the most exciting sexual encounter she had ever had washed over her like a tidal wave. Rhys’ content expression faded and he glowered at her.
“What are you sobbing about?” he snapped, slipping his pants back on. Annika shook her head, not trusting her voice not to crack.
“Stop crying, Annika. It makes you look ugly.” She struggled to control herself. Sniffling she turned her cat-like eyes on him.
“Who was that?” she mewled. Rhys glanced at the door as if he had already forgotten the surreal episode that had just occurred. “You mean Katrine? I thought you guys had met.” Annika shook her head, wiping the tears from her gaunt cheeks.
“Who is she?” she demanded again. Rhys sighed, buttoning up his shirt. “She’s an old friend. What? You didn’t enjoy that?” He grinned at her knowingly. Annika lowered her eyes in shame. She had enjoyed it too much. She felt herself getting wet again just thinking about Katrine’s perfect tits rubbing against own erect nipples. Rhys laughed and gestured at the nightstand.
“Have another hit, baby and relax. I’ll come get you later.” He leaned over and kissed her forehead, and Annika suddenly realized Rhys never kissed her on the mouth outside of sex. A warning rang out in her mind, but before she allowed it to escalate, she reached across and put another line of powder in her nose. The burn of the substance was different, and instantly, Annika was rendered almost paralyzed by the drug. Rhys’ grin widened as she sat back against the pillows.
“What do you think of that?” he asked as she began to float away. Her expression must have answered his question.
“What…is…it?” Annika heard her voice ask. Rhys turned to the door but flashed her one of his incredible smiles before exiting.
“Heroin. But don’t worry – only the highest grade for my baby.”
Chapter Six: It’s My Own Fault
Rhys had not been home in five days. He had not called, texted or emailed. The small stash of drugs was gone, flushed down the toilet since the day he had walked out the door. Trevor (or was it Travis?) had knocked on the door, but his arrival had been unreceived despite the fact that Annika had been there, shivering, sweating, vomiting and scratching imaginary cockroaches off her face. She forced herself to drink water, glass after glass, all day and all endless night. She had not eaten a morsel, but that would come later. First, she needed to get the junk out of her system. She dared not call room service because she did not want to see anyone, especially the designated delivery kid who might have been bearing a joint. I need to do this alone. As the symptoms escalated, Annika had reached for the phone more than once to call Dickie but she, by some miracle force of will, stopped herself. His last words rang in her ears, and it was enough to sober her up. By the third day, when it became clear that Rhys was gone for good, Annika made an impulsive decision and hurled the cell phone off the balcony. I need to do this alone. I have to get to get used to doing things alone.
It was now the fifth day, and Annika was able to stand and walk around. She was weak and desperately needed food, but the sweats and shaking had minimized considerably. She forced herself into the shower for the first time in over a week and sat in the tub as the water washed over her. She scrubbed every inch of her frail body and inspected the bruises and cuts she had acquired while in her haze. How the hell did this happen? How could you let this happen? No man is every good enough to reduce you to this. But here you are, you stupid, stupid girl. Annika was also self-aware enough to know that this was her own doing. It was not Rhys. She had put herself out there out of desperation, and she had attracted the worst kind of predator. Dickie had been right all along. The day Rhys had left, she had tried to call ABC Music Studios to hunt him down, but no one had ever heard of him.
After that reality hit home, the street smart, worldly Annika slowly began to resurface from whatever place it had been hibernating, and she knew that she would come out of this alive and it would make her tougher and wiser. So she fought day by painful day, and her perseverance paid off.
As she finished in the shower, there was a knock on the suite door. Prepared to ignore it, Annika let the towel drop, and she examined her figure in the full-length mirror in the bedroom and made a list. She was sickly thin, her complexion almost transparent and there was no life in her once gutsy irises. Food, exercise, water. That’s what I need. I need two weeks, and I will be okay. Not great. But better than I am at this moment. She tried to smile, but it was too soon for that. Suddenly, the door to the suite opened. In spite of herself, Annika’s heart skipped a beat.
“Rhys?” she called out. An older woman wearing a shirt emblazoned with the Four Seasons insignia walked into the room with a feather duster and froze as she saw Annika standing naked before her. She gasped and retreated, apologizing profusely.
“The Do Not Disturb sign is on the door!” Annika yelled after her retreating frame, her nerves as taut as her concaved stomach. She threw a robe on and ran to confront the housekeeper. The woman was scrolling through a clipboard frantically, looking pale.
“I am so sorry, miss! It shows on my schedule that this suite had checked out!” the woman babbled, still flipping through the papers. Then she tossed it under Annika’s chin so the irate redhead could read the paper.
“That must be a mistake,” Annika said slowly. In her heart, however, she knew what had happened. Rhys had checked out of the room so she would vacate and he would never have to deal with her again. That heartless asshole! She smiled weakly at the red faced cleaner.
“Can you just give me a few minutes to gather my things?” Annika asked politely. She nodded vigorously, appearing relieved that there would be no argument.
“I will come back later, miss. I am so sorry to have walked in on you!” Annika closed the door and leaned back heavily, struggling not to cry. Collecting herself, she slowly dropped the robe and headed toward the bedroom. She emptied out one of Rhys’ abandoned suitcases and started to throw her own items into it, gathering only the most sensible clothing and toiletries. She stared wistfully at some of the pairs of shoes she was leaving behind, but she turned and continued on her mission. No need for stilettos now. She entered the bathroom and p
icked up her toothbrush and deodorant, pausing to look at the items on the counter. She picked up the piece of plastic on the edge of the sink. It wasn’t clear anymore, the liquid had bled through, skewing the initial reading but she knew what the outcome had been; two lines on the test meant she was pregnant. Pregnant with the child of a man she never knew in the most basic way. The impact of the situation suddenly seized her, knocking the wind out of her abruptly and she doubled over. She had spent all of her energy on getting clean and not thinking of anything else. Now she was homeless, pregnant and completely broke. She caught her breath and began tearing through Rhys’ belongings, looking for money. She found three hundred and seven dollars, a pair of two-carat diamond cuff links and a platinum wedding band. Annika felt her jaw lock. Like a heavy, soaking wet blanket had suddenly been yanked off her shoulders, the old Annika materialized in its entirety, reclaiming her skin. She remembered the night she had moved into Dickie’s, just after Kevin had left him. Before she could exercise any self-control, her hand was swiping lamps onto the floor with a smash. She whipped those new heels against the mirrors, causing them to shatter explosively. Seven years of bad luck a piece? I guess that’s another lifetime then. She ripped pillows to shreds. When she felt as if she had expelled all of her fury, she dusted herself off and stepped over the chaos she had created and into the hallway. The housekeeper, who had clearly heard the commotion, was standing by the elevator nonchalantly but Annika could feel her watchful stare, and she rolled the large suitcase across the hall. Annika paused in front of the lady and held out her hand. Warily, the woman extended her hand to accept whatever Annika was handing her.
“This is for you,” Annika told her, dropping the diamond cuff links into the woman’s extended palm. “I’m sorry about the mess, but I hope you will find this to be enough for your time. Let the hotel’s insurance figure out the damage. Sell these and keep the money for yourself.” Before the woman could respond, Annika boarded the elevator and was gone.
Chapter Seven: Midnight Train to Georgia
The entire town reeked of desperation. Is this even a town? Annika stood in the general store which doubled as the bus depot and tried to scrunch up her nose in distaste. You’re in no position to judge anything. She looked around the lonely building and swatted a fly away from her face. She had no idea why she had chosen this place of all places. Well she did, but she was questioning her reasoning as the reality shattered the illusion. I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll hop on a bus out of here tomorrow and go somewhere else. But she knew she had nowhere to go. No one was waiting for her. This was the closest thing she had to “somewhere,” and it wasn’t even hers.
“Kin I help ya, miss?” Annika turned to face an elderly man, leaning for support against the cash counter. He looked the quintessential farmer, shocking white, scraggly hair, a scruff about his face, coveralls and a straw hat to boot. Annika blushed, embarrassed. She really had no reason to be in the store but to collect her thoughts and formulate a plan. She would have gone to sit in a Starbucks, but she highly doubted the hamlet had even heard the name, let alone housed one. She smiled briefly and shook her head.
“No I – actually, yes, please. Are there any cheap hotels around here?” The shopkeeper looked her up and down disapprovingly, taking in her lovely face but dusty appearance and low cut top.
“This ain’t that kind of town, Miss,” he responded coldly. It took Annika a moment to understand what he thought before she went pale.
“No! NO! I am just not from around here, and I have nowhere to stay. I just need a place to stay until I find an apartment.” The man lost his stony look and grinned sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, darlin’. I thought…never ya mind. If ya need a room, my daughter has a big house on Willow Drive. She’s lookin’ ta rent out one of her rooms since her good fer nothin’ husband ain’t workin’. I kin take ya over there. The rent ain’t bad.” Annika blinked at his unexpected offer.
“I-well I can wait if you want to call her and see if the room is still for rent.”
“Nah, it’s fer rent. Lemme just tell my wife we’re goin’. Be right back in a jiffy.”
This sure isn’t the city, Annika thought as she watched the old timer shuffle into to the back of the store. A moment later, he returned, whistling. Annika had the surreal feeling she was in a movie. Real people don’t live and act like this.
“Well, come on, chickie! It ain’t that far.” He came around the counter and took hold of Annika’s rolling suitcase. She was stunned by the gesture.
“I can take that!” she said, hurrying after him. He was feet ahead of her, walking a pace unexpected for his feeble looking presence.
“Ya ain’t one of them feminism broads, is ya? Won’t let a man do nothin’ fer her? I kin do this. Ya look like ya been travelin’ fer ten days. I kin do this.”
Annika was uncharacteristically moved by his kindness, and she felt tears spring to her eyes. Stupid goddamn hormones!
“Thank you, sir,” she choked, quickly brushing the salty water from her eyes before he noticed them. He guffawed.
“I ain’t no ‘sir’ chickie dee. The name’s Lou. Lou Bradley James. Kin ya handle that?” Annika nodded.
“Thank you, Lou,” she said. She was almost running to keep up with his brisk stride.
“So whatcha doin’ here? Ya don’ look much like ya belong here.”
“My friend grew up here, and I wanted a change of pace from the city,” Annika replied honestly.
“Who’s yer friend?”
“Richard Robinson.” Lou laughed again.
“Well I’ll be a pig’s uncle! Little Dickie! How is that kid? I always liked that child. Even though he liked the boys. Ain’t his fault I don’ suppose. Neva was any beautiful women here.” Annika smiled sadly.
“He’s good.” Lou nodded and stopped abruptly in front of a beautiful but ill kept Victorian house. There was a wraparound porch in white, peeling paint, and black shutters falling off the many windows.
“His mama and daddy still run that farm outside of town, but all his brothers and sisters is gone to the city now. I reckon they’ll done and sell the property soon. They ain’t spring chickens anymore. They got them all kinds of ills. Anyhoo, this is Lucy’s house. C’mon.” She obligingly followed him up the rickety stairs and onto the porch. A huge orange tabby nearly jumped out its skin on their arrival, screeching its displeasure before slinking away. He opened the screen door and walked inside without so much as knocking to announce his arrival, pulling Annika’s bag in with him.
“Lulu? Joey? Any y’all home?” He held the door open for her, but she was reluctant to go in uninvited.
“I’ll just wait – “
“Git in here, girl. Ain’t no one gonna bite ya.” Sighing, Annika tentatively stepped over the threshold. She heard a rush of footsteps, and suddenly a girl of six or seven came flying into the front hall, throwing herself into Lou’s arms.
“Grampy!” the child shrieked. Annika cringed. She had never been a fan of small children. You better get used to them, she reminded herself with some contempt.
“Lula, ain’t ya a sight for sore eyes! Ya get bigger an’ bigger every time I see ya!”
“Oh Grampy I just saw you this morning!” Annika smiled despite her resolve to ignore the child. The little girl noticed her standing there and grinned.
“Hiya! I’m Louisa.”
“Hi Louisa, I’m – “she paused. “I’m Annie.”
Before the child could say anything else, a middle-aged woman came around the corner, her dark hair in a loose bun, wearing an apron covered in icing sugar.
“Hiya dad! What are you doing here?”
“Hiya baby. This is Annie. She’s new in Burrowsburg and needs a place to stay. Told her y’all had a room for rent.” The brunette smiled warmly at Annika.
“Hi Annie! Welcome! I’m Lucy Ward. Please come in! Dad, go put her bag in the room next to Luke’s.” Annika was almost dizzy. Who the hell are these people th
at allow perfect strangers to walk into their lives and live in their homes? Aren’t they worried about murderers and thieves? She followed Lucy into a cozy but run-down salon in the front of the house.
“Are you thirsty? Hungry? I just made some cookies. You have to try them.” Annika tried to refuse, but Louisa was already returning from the kitchen with a plate of the goodies and a glass of lemonade. Annika took them and suddenly realized she was absolutely famished.
“So tell me about yourself, Annie. Where are you from? Why are you here?”
“She’s a friend of Dickie Robinson!” Lou cackled gleefully as he entered the room. Lucy arched her thin eyebrow in surprise.
“A good friend?” she asked innocently.
“Dickie is still gay,” Annika replied flatly. Lucy and Lou burst out laughing.
“What a shame. I always rather fancied that boy,” Lucy sighed wistfully but winked jokingly at Annika.
“He’d be an improvement from the one ya got now,” Lou grumbled. Lucy gave him a scathing look.
“Well, Annie, my husband Joe and I own this house. We have four children – Louisa here is our baby. Then there’s JJ, Evan and Luke is the oldest. I hope that isn’t too full of a house for you.” Annika shook her head and forced a smile, but she knew the living arrangements were probably going to drive her crazy. This is just temporary. You’ll find a job and get your own place soon.
Even as the thought flittered through her mind, Annika knew she would be trapped for a long while. She might be able to get away with getting a job but keeping one while pregnant would be a whole other scenario.
“The rent will be seventy-five dollars a month,” Lucy continued. Annika choked and choke on her lemonade. She continued to sputter as everyone jumped up to assist her. Once the spasm passed, Lucy recanted, apologetically.
The Virgin Secretary: A Billionaire Romance Page 22