Page 36 of Bitter Lies

Can you still feel how well my fingers stretched your tight cunt?

The three dots bounce again before vanishing.

I wait a few before trying again.

Ignoring me? That’s a surefire way to get spanked. Is that what you’re aiming for?

This time, the dots bounce for a solid thirty seconds before disappearing, then reappear.

Over and over.

Until finally a message comes through.

IZZY:

I thought you had to work.

I’m waiting for the cockwomble to show up. He’s late.

Have fun, then.

What? Have fun, then? Is she blowing me off? Oh, hell no.

Let me take you to breakfast in the morning. When do you leave?

Nothing. Not even bouncing dots.

I’m this close to getting out of the car and calling her when they appear. Why do I even care? I should be happy she’s blowing me off, making it easier for me to walk away.

No.

No? Just no.

Yes.

Perhaps I haven’t been clear enough. Let me rephrase this so it’s easier for you to understand. N. O. No. That means no. Like never. Like it’s not happening in this lifetime. Not interested. I’ll pass. Go bother someone else. Leave me alone. Goodbye.

My grip tightens on my phone, and it’s a wonder the screen doesn’t crack.

Silas chuckles next to me, like he knows exactly what I’m doing, even without seeing my phone. If he’s not careful, I’ll punch his face like I did that motherfucker at the club the other night.

8:00 in front of your grandparents’ building. Be ready. Don’t make me come get you. I will, and the scene I’ll make you don’t want them witnessing.

I don’t catch her response. We get interrupted by the man of the hour.

Racing down the street, a car screeches to an abrupt stop, parking haphazardly behind us. The driver’s door swings open as Cort tumbles out, visibly intoxicated.

He should not have gotten behind the wheel in his state, no matter who demanded he come now.

The level of my anger is so high that I consider taking drastic measures and making him pay for his carelessness.

I’m out of my car before Silas can stop me. As I approach, the man cowers, his eyes wide with fear, unable to meet my furious gaze.

With a hard yank, I haul him to his feet. On his way up, he heaves.

I drop my grip, stepping back as yellow vomit spills from his mouth, the acrid stench assaulting my nose.

“You’re drunk!” I shout, moving out of his way again.