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Play with Me

Page 49

   


“No need to thank me, babe.” He kisses my hair and tightens the arm around my shoulders. “I had fun too. We’ll go again soon.”
“It’s a date.”
“Why don’t you just come back to my place with me?” he asks for the third time, making me chuckle.
“Because I need to unpack, do some laundry and get ready to go back to work. And so do you.”
“I could stay at your place with you. If you don’t mind my dirty underwear being washed with yours.” I hear the humor in his voice and lean back to look up into his handsome face.
“You’re always welcome at my place.” I plant a kiss on his cheek and lean my head on his shoulder again. “I need to make you a key.”
He smiles against my hair and kisses me again as I see my townhouse come into view.
And the woman sitting on my steps.
Fuck me!
“Shit.”
“Who is that?” Will asks as I pull out of his arms.
“Sylvia.”
“Fuck,” he whispers.
“Exactly.”
I jump out of the car as Will throws bills at the cab driver and stalk angrily up to the beaten down, trashy woman smirking at me on the stairs.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
“You hung up on me, so I thought I’d just come talk to you in person. What, you’re not happy to see mommy dearest?”
“Get the fuck off my property.”
“That’s no way to speak to your mother.” Her eyes flash as she stands and the sight of her makes me sick. She’s too thin, about my height. Her auburn hair is full of gray, hazel eyes are dull and her skin is ashy. Her old clothes hang on her slight frame. At one time, she’d been really pretty.
Now she just looks old and worn. And she’s not even fifty yet. My stomach rolls.
“You know you’re not welcome here.” I tell her, my voice strong, arms crossed over my chest, ignoring the rain falling on me.
“So this is your new young man.” Her lips spread in what she considers her flirty smile, but her teeth are yellow, and she just looks… pathetic. “Hi there.”
Will is standing behind me now, his hands on my shoulders, showing me his support and I’ve never been more thankful for him.
“I believe Megan asked you to leave.” His voice is hard and firm.
Her smile disappears and is replaced with a cold sneer. “I’m not leaving until I get more money out of this ungrateful little bitch.”
“I told you…”
“I don’t give a fuck what you told me. You owe me! I want what’s mine!” She marches down the stairs to get in my face, but Will pulls me aside and steps in front of me, looking down at Sylvia with fire in his eyes.
“She doesn’t owe you anything. She asked you to leave. Don’t make me call the cops.” His voice is low and pissed, and Sylvia takes a step back, her eyes wide and stunned.
Did she really think she could just show up here and leave with a pocket full of money?
Yes.
Because I always give in to her. No matter how ashamed I feel later, I always give in.
No more.
“Go back to Montana, Sylvia. You wasted your time coming here.” I mutter angrily as I link my hand with Will’s. He squeezes my hand reassuringly.
“I don’t have any money!” she whines.
“Not my problem. I sent you money.”
“Not enough,” she spits out.
“It’s the last you’ll get from me.” My voice is low now, and firm. Her eyes register surprise again, and then they narrow on my face with such hatred I take a step backward. Will frowns down at me and squeezes my hand again.
“You’ll send it. You know what will happen if you don’t. I’ll go to the press and tell them all about the big football star’s new girlfriend. What a piece of trash she is. Where she comes from.” Sylvia sneers at me. “Won’t that be great publicity for him?”
“Call the police,” Will states calmly and Sylvia’s jaw drops.
“I’ll go to the press…”
“Go to the press. Go anywhere you want, as long as it’s not here. I don’t give a shit what you say. Megan is not trash, she just comes from it.” I gape up at him, as Sylvia gasps at the insult. “You can’t hurt her. She’s told you to leave, now leave.”
She looks at me, her mouth set in a grim line. “Fine.”
She marches down to the ancient Honda parked at the curb and then looks back at me. “You always were a worthless piece of shit.”
“Get the fuck out!” Will yells, cutting her off. She jumps in her car and speeds away.
I can’t move. I just stand here, in the rain, hugging myself and watch her car disappear down the street.
“Look at me.”
I’m too ashamed. Jesus, what must he think of me now? I bury my face in my hands and will the tears back.
Crying won’t solve anything.
“Just go, Will.”
“Look at me,” he repeats, his hands on my shoulders now. “Megan, stop. Look at me.”
I look up into his eyes, still so embarrassed.
“I’m so sorry…”
“Shh.” He shakes his head and hugs me to him, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, pinning my arms against his chest, and I’ve never felt so safe. “I’m sorry she’s so horrible.”
“I meant it,” I mumble against him. “I’m not sending her any more money.”