Page 6 of Savage Keepsakes

Gritting my teeth, I put the card back. My smile contains enough sugar, and I could give her a toothache. Instead of responding, I excuse myself to the bathroom.

Barb is awful, and Miles never stands up for me. I wipe my hand over my face, trying to brush off the emotion, but frustration brews in my belly.

It’s not just that Miles acts like a fucking baby. It’s the past all over again, my parents always pushing me around and treating me like I wasn’t worth a fucking thing.

I stare at myself in the mirror, taking deep breaths, in through my nose and out through my mouth like Uncle Billy taught me when I was young. I need to pull myself together.

After washing my hands, I head back to the table.

“Dinner was lovely. We should do it again soon. At your house, Lucy.” Her sickeningly fake voice infuriates me. I smile and nod, like Herb does. After his parents pay, I grab Miles’s hand as we walk out of the restaurant.

“You could have been more talkative. She’s not a terrible person. She wants to get to know you better.”

He’s so fucking dense. That woman has never wanted to know a single thing about me. If I have to fake my smile one more time, my face is going to shatter.

“It’s been a long day and I’m tired. She should understand.”

Once we’re in his car and on the road, he turns up the music until we reach our street. The trees create a canopy over our dark driveway, as if welcoming us into another dimension. Moonlight falls across the property and light glints off the windows, making the farm look haunted. It’s otherworldly, and it’s mine.

As Miles parks next to my old Toyota Corolla, his fingers move to my thigh, which he squeezes. I do my best not to sigh. My legs ache, and I feel exhausted.

Turning to give him a kiss on the cheek, his hand cups my face as he presses against my lips.

“You look beautiful tonight. I forgot to tell you.”

I hold my eye-roll. He’s going to give me whiplash.

“Thanks,” I whisper. Pulling away from his embrace, I get out of the car and walk to the porch. Stepping over the broken boards and I head toward the door.

“This is dangerous. I don’t have time to fix this shit,” he mutters.

He acts like his job is so hard. Flipping patties at Meaty Burgers must be so strenuous.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say, unlocking the door.

The entrance leads straight into the kitchen. Flicking on the lights, I glance around. I’m going to have to paint so many rooms, but that’s the beauty of starting fresh. I slip off my black boots and throw my keys on a stack of boxes.

With great effort, I climb the stairs. If I had a couch I’d be sleeping down here, but I continue to push forward. I just want to collapse into my bed.

After I wash my face, I grab a scrunchie and put my hair in a messy bun. Slipping off my yellow shirt, I wiggle out of my jeans. I fold them both and flip open the suitcase.

I find a pair of shorts and an oversized tee. Before I can get dressed, Mile’s hands grab my hips, and he grinds against me.

“Babe, I’m so tired.” I straighten and take a step away from him.

“I’m going back to work for days. This is my only chance.” His tone is whiny and I grit my teeth.

“In the morning,” I tell him.

Miles strips off his jeans and boxers. “Fuck that. You never want to have morning sex.” He grips the bun on the back of my head and jerks me to him. “I want it now.”

My scalp burns, and the sudden movement jars my neck.

His tall, muscular frame covers my back as he presses into me. Miles pulls my hair out of my bun, yanking my head backward against his chest before forcing kisses along my neck.

If I let my mind float away, this will be over before I know it. Our intimacy is dead. Miles used to light candles or give me a massage after work. Now he can’t even be bothered to be nice to me unless he wants something.

He guides me to the bed, laying me on my tummy. He spreads my legs roughly, shoving his fingers into me.

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