Page 228 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 8
I fell backward on the couch. I needed a Sharpie. So I could run around my apartment giving myself devil horns in all my pictures.
I was so cold that my whole body started shaking. The plague was a terrible thing to have.
I closed my eyes tight and pictured Tanner’s arms wrapped around me. But that just made it worse. Because his arms were never going to wrap around me again.
My phone beeped.
I would have hoped it was Tanner, but I knew he was never going to speak to me again. He was a magical billionaire. He’d probably already moved on. I reached out of my blanket and grabbed my phone. It was probably just Chastity wondering where I was.
We’d planned to celebrate Black Friday by going shopping and seeing who could get the most free stuff exclusively by fucking black guys. You know…since it wasBlackFriday.. Like Chastity always said, why get something for 50% off, when you can get it for free AND get a huge cock?
Anyway, that plan was now off. My days of whoring were over. And my days were over. Because I was probably going to die any minute from the plague.
I clicked on my phone to see her message. But it wasn’t Chastity. It was a text from Mr. Frost. He was asking why I wasn’t at work.
Seriously? I’m not at work because you gave us the day off after Thanksgiving, you monster!
I shook my head. He wasn’t the monster. I was. The biggest slut monster there was.
I texted him back: “It’s Black Friday. It’s a holiday.” I hit send.
My phone buzzed right away with his response: “Black Friday isn’t a real holiday. Get into work. Now.”
Fuck you, my life is in shambles!I texted him back: “I can’t. I’m sick.” I didn’t bother warning him that I was dying. He’d figure it out come Monday when I didn’t come in. Since I lived alone someone would have to knock down my door to find my corpse. Or maybe they’d wait until I started to smell. God, what if cats ate me?!
I coughed. I guess it didn’t matter. I’d be dead. Let the huge rodents feast. If they could figure out a way to get in, I was all theirs.
I waited for Mr. Frost to text back something snarky. But he did not.
Good.I pulled my hat lower again. I could die in peace.
I stared at the ceiling as I slowly died.
My breathing became shallow as the germs overtook my body.It’s almost time, cats...
I could feel the sickness spreading. I could even feel the soles of my feet being taken by the plague.
There was a knock on my door. “Go away!” I croaked. Couldn’t a slut die in peace?! For fuck’s sake!
The person knocked again.
“Go away for your own safety!” I yelled. And then I sneezed. I didn’t want anyone to catch the sickness.
But instead of leaving, the person just kept knocking.
It was probably Chastity. She was never scared of my germs. She’d regret it this time though. I rolled off the couch in my blankets and grabbed one of my hazmat suits that I kept on hand. I opened the door a few inches and held the hazmat suit out the door for her.
But instead of taking it, Chastity just pushed the door open.
Nope, not Chastity. I stared in horror.
Mr. Frost walked into the apartment hazmat-suit-less. He closed the door behind him. “Here,” he said and awkwardly thrust a brown paper bag into my hands.
What is this madness?Had he brought me a bag of take-home work? “I can’t work today,” I croaked.
“I know.” He tapped the bag.
I peered inside. It wasn’t binders full of nonsense. It was a bowl of something. And not a takeout bowl. It was a glass bowl that was clearly something homemade. I lifted the lid off the bowl. It was filled with turkey noodle soup. Had he made this out of leftover Thanksgiving turkey? For me? I looked up at him.
