Page 51 of Sins of Innocence

Deep breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

Text Allison.

Right. I need to quit my job that she fired me from, but we both know she didn't mean it.

Áine: Due to the events of yesterday, my daughter needs me at home and I won't be returning to work.

There. That's the reminder she needs that me quitting is her son's fault. Which it is. His and his father's.

Deep breaths.

In. Out. In. Out.

A text notification makes my phone vibrate in my hand.

Expecting another text from Kieran, I'm shocked when I see the acronym I gave Allison in my contacts. WWMG stands for wicked-witch-mean-girl because one villainous title isn't enough for the Allisons of this world.

WWMG: You can have today off, but you will have to make alternate arrangements for her tomorrow.

Áine: I am not returning to work.

I don't bother to ask her to send my final check anywhere because I have no doubt she's going to withhold my wages for the last two weeks. They pay me under the table which is the only reason I can afford to live on what I make working for them. I don't have to pay taxes on it.

WWMG: What do you mean you aren't returning? If you can't work Friday either, I'll need you to make the hours up over the weekend.

This woman couldn't catch a clue with a set of handcuffs and chloroform. As if I don't already work a lot of Saturdays. I refuse to work longer than half days on weekends though and they are supposed to be rare, but really? They're not.

If you don't count sleeping, I spend more time at the Shaughnessy house than I do my own apartment. Heck, maybe even if you do count the hours I sleep.

I hate working for her family. I hate cleaning their house and spending every minute I'm there on high alert, so Kenneth doesn't catch me alone. I despise their spoiled son who has called me the whore wife of a traitor to my face.

I hate all the choices that have been taken away from me over the past six years. I even hate how many choices Troy tried to take away from me.

I wouldn't have a degree if it weren't for my mom's help with the kids.

I'm scared and upset about my upcoming marriage to a stranger, even if he seems to have White Knight syndrome. We've kissed once. And holy heck it was hot, but what if that's the extent of our chemistry.

What if he's terrible to live with? What if he hates living with me and the girls. What happens when his hero complex wears off and he's faced with the realities of daily life with a wife and three daughters?

I let my fears and frustration erupt into all caps in my next text.

Áine: I AM NOT COMING BACK TO YOUR HOUSE. EVER. YOU FIRED ME! REMEMBER?

WWMG: I misspoke as I'm sure you are aware. I was very upset you left me in the lurch with my dinner party. And my coffee klatch is coming over Saturday afternoon. The house needs an extra polish besides cleaning up from the dinner party.

Áine: YOUR SON AND HIS FRIENDS HURT MY DAUGHTER. SHE IS MY PRIORITY. NOT YOUR STUPID DINNER PARTIES OR HOW CLEAN THE BANNISTER RAILING IS WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR COFFEE KLATCH OVER.

Before she can answer, I add another text to the thread.

Áine: I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR SNOBBY FACE AGAIN OR HEAR YOUR ANNOYING VOICE.

Áine: AND YOUR HUSBAND IS A PHILANDERING CREEP WHO TRIES TO GET IT ON WITH THE HELP.

Ulp.

I drop my phone to the bed like it caught fire.