Author's note:
So, I've pissed off quite a few of you with that last chapter, didn't I?
TBH, while I knew writing an 'angry sex' scene was risky, I had hoped to do a better job making it clear it fell solidly within the 'jerk, but NOT a rapist' category. Reading some of your comments, it seems I didn't quite succeed.
I hope this chapter helps put some better context around that scene, and starts redeeming Joe in your eyes. We'll see how goes...
Please note that there's no sex in this chapter, so if that's what you're in the mood for, please move on to the next story :)
For those of you counting with me, this chapter adds ~9.5K words to the story, so my total is now ~53K!! which means I have 'won' the #NaNo challenge - woo-hoo! BUT am not going to celebrate yet, because my goal is to reach THE END by end of November; about 20K more words or so...
Thank you again, everyone who had voted, favorite, PMed and commented, even those of you who are ready to beat the crap out of Joe and/or crucify me just about now. As long as you're engaged with the story and give me your honest reaction and/or opinion, I wholly appreciate your feedback.
xoxo,
Annie
*****
She felt like death warmed over.
Her head was pounding, the taste in her mouth was foul, and her throat was scratchy and dry as a desert.
It was all made worse by an obnoxious shrill coming from somewhere to her right. Leanne fumbled blindly until her hand landed on the vibrating source of that noise, and brought it close to her crunched-up face.
It was a phone, but it wasn't
her
phone. Hoping the red X meant 'turn off', Leanne tapped it, and blessed silence ensued. She heaved her relief, reached over to plop it back on the small table, and then groaned when nausea followed her movement.
God, she felt like crap.
When her head stopped spinning, Leanne made herself open her eyes and look around. The room was eerily familiar: the exact same layout and furniture as her own, but the curtains were grey rather than cream, and there were different items on the table next to the bed. The pillow smelled funny. Like an unfamiliar man.
Todd's room.
Humiliation hit her like a sledgehammer, followed closely by despair.
It really was all over. She wanted to put the covers over her head and pretend last night never happened. She wanted her beautiful, made-up princess story to go on, just for a little while longer.
But then, life didn't work out that way, she knew. In real life shit happened that tore you to pieces, and then, somehow, you survived, even when it didn't feel like you ever could. You just needed to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
I've done it before. I can do it now.
She pushed herself to sit at the edge of the single bed, and looked down at herself. She was drowning inside a man's clothes - T-shirt and boxers - which she vaguely remembered putting on after her endless shower the night before.
Bless Todd and Tammy's hearts,
she thought miserably.
And after I'd puked all over their shoes, too. God!
She shuddered. They'll all hate her soon enough, too. As soon as Joe told them how she'd lied to them all.
Stop it,
she snapped at herself.
You took the gamble, now you pay up. Stop whining.
Gingerly she stood up, and padded over to the bathroom. A few minutes later, after finger-brushing her hair and her teeth, and splashing her face with cool water, she re-emerged, and looked around.
Her flats were by the wall, and she slipped them on. Her blue dress and her bra lay in a pile, and she picked them up, her eyes fixed on the tiny tears on the back, tinged with reddish-brown. Last night in the shower, the hot water cascade sent prickles of pain every time it hit one of those scratches, but this morning she couldn't feel them anymore, although she reckoned they would still be visible. She didn't dare try to look.
Why did Joe fuck her last night? Was that what they called 'hate sex'? 'Revenge sex'?
She sat heavily on the bed, and forced herself to remember.
As he took her hand and told her to come 'somewhere private' with him, she assumed sex was what he wanted. It certainly was what
she
wanted, she bluntly pointed out to herself.
She wanted to make love one last time before she told him the truth.
Leanne snorted. Joe beat her to it, in more ways than one.
She remembered him stopping next to those sheds, unease and tension radiating in waves around him. She remembered asking him what was wrong, and that he didn't answer. And she remembered stepping close and wrapping her arms around his neck, and telling him how she wanted to '
make it all better for you, cowboy'
.
And then there were his words when he'd stroked her clit and made her come.
'At least this was real,'
he had said, as if nothing else was. Leanne choked a sudden sob.
He thought she was a liar.
She
was
a liar.
Her fists clenched the rumbled blanket under her.
Enough. What's done is done. Now you do what you need to do: Pack up and leave. Stay at Elaine's for a few nights, until you find another job. Give Melissa your envelope with your un-cashed paychecks, and a note asking to use any outstanding payments to cover Bill's debt. Have them mail it to Michael McConnel.
Call Joe to say you're sorry that you lied, and that you never meant to hurt him. He'll probably hang up on you, but at least you'll have tried.
Leanne took a deep breath and stood, picked up her ruined clothes, and walked to the door with her head held high.
*
Joe was going to break into his jog when he heard one of the doors in the men's dorms open. He turned around, half-hidden behind a large, flowering bush, and saw Leanne leaving Todd's room and then shuffling towards the women building.
She'd spent the night at Todds?!
He couldn't breathe, his chest felt utterly constricted.
