Authors: M. Robinson
Copyright © 2014 M. Robinson
Edited by Kristen Switzer
All rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author.
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, dead or alive are a figment of my imagination and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s mind's eye and are not to be interpreted as real.
This book is to anyone who has ever lied and lived to regret it.
First and foremost I need to thank my husband Ben Robinson. Thank you for always allowing me to pursue my dreams. Even though I ignore you whenever I am on my computer or my cellphone. I love you.
My parents: Thank you for always showing me what hard work and determination can accomplish.
My sister & nieces: Love you guys!
My family and friends who I ignore all the time…I love you. You know I do.
Kristen Switzer: Thank you for being such an amazing friend to me. I LOVE YOU so much because you bring out the best in me. I wouldn’t know what to do without you. I’m happy I have you in my life. Thank you for an amazing editing job on all of my books.
Rebecca Marie: You never disappoint! Thank you for an amazing cover, as always!
Michelle Tan: Best beta ever!
Heather Harton: You have been with me since the beginning. Thank you so much for being you. My GILF!
Alexis Moore: I love our crazy banter and your support!
Jennifer Mirabelli: I love your voice! And you.
Shannon Franco: Thank you love!!
The bloggers: THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!
READERS & FANS: THANK YOU!! Without you, I am nothing.
Friend: A person attached to another person by feelings of affection or personal regard. A person who gives assistance, a supporter, faithful companion, and keeper of secrets. Someone with whom you can laugh or cry, share your hopes and dreams. Someone who knows all about you and loves you anyway.
Best friend: Someone who you can trust with your life who has seen the best and worst of you and will be there whenever you need someone to talk to. There is a balance in friendship between give and take. You feel so in sync with them that you can comfortably share your innermost feelings and thoughts.
Sister: A person
who’s been where you’ve been. Someone you can call when things aren’t right. More than just family. A sister is a friend for life.
Broken: Having been fractured or damaged and no longer in working order. Having given up all hope, despairing.
How do you go from one extreme to another? How do you feel like part of you
is missing and you have no idea where to find it? How do you lose your whole life, everything you thought you had, you thought you knew, you thought would happen…how does it all go away as quickly as the wind blows? The secrets, the plans, the dreams, I can’t even tell them apart anymore. They all melt together, forming one big cluster of nothing. Which is exactly what I am…I am nothing but a damaged person. I have been since day one.
People can be whatever you want them to be. I am
the perfect example of that. On the inside, everything is wrong, all of it is misplaced, and nothing holds secure. I was never pretty enough, I was never good enough, I was never smart enough, I was just never enough. They needed flawlessness and excellence, and on the outside, I portrayed it to a T. But on the inside, I was dying. Damaged goods. At least when you buy something broken you can return it, but what do you do when that’s not an option? When you have no choice but to wake up every morning with a smile on your face because that’s what people expect. Your family, your social circle, and your best friend–someone you call your sister. McKenzie thought she knew me, everyone did. I told you I played the part perfectly, hour after hour, day after day, year after year.
am Gianna Edwards.
But the truth is…
I have no idea who I am.
“Excuse me…” I gasped at the guy standing in front of me at the bar.
I had to blink several times because the man before me looked identical to Mr. Nichols. Was my mind playing tricks on me? It couldn’t have been him, he had been in jail for seven years. Did he get out? Did he come for me? No, he couldn’t have come for me, he was still in prison. This man just looked like him; it was always the same, they all looked like him. It didn’t matter, but that’s what my eyes would always see.
It was the price I had to pay.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last few seconds. Are you all right?”
Yeah. Sorry, what did you need?”
“Well, your name for starters.”
I downed my drink trying to calm my nerves. “G,” I answered mid swallow.
“That’s an interesting name. Is it short for something?” he interrogated.
I laughed. “Yeah…it’s short for mind your own damn business.”
“You’re feisty. Anyone ever tell you what you should do with that mouth?”
“All the time.” I snickered.
He grinned. “I’m Nick,” he introduced himself, sticking out his hand.
I looked at it and raised my eyebrow. “Of course it is,” I stated, laughing at the situation and myself.
“Don’t worry about it,” I quickly rebutted. “So, Nick,” I said, accenting his name. “To what do I owe the honor of your presence?”
curved his lip. “I actually wanted to buy you a drink, maybe talk to you a bit. Get to know you. You know, the typical guy meets girl conversation among two consenting adults.” He reached his hand further and he placed it on my thigh.
I placed mine on top. “And then what? What happens after that?”
He chuckled. “I get your phone number, maybe?”
I opened my legs, watching exactly where his eyes went. “Is that all you’re looking for, Nick? Some light conversation and my phone number. Because I’ll tell you right now, I’m looking for a hell of a lot more than that.”
He licked his lips and caressed my thigh, “Is that so? What are you looking for, little girl?”
I smiled. “I’m looking for a good time, right now. Not tomorrow or next week. And you most definitely won’t get my phone number. You’re lucky you even got my name.”
“G isn’t a name, it’s a letter,” he teased.
“Really? Wow. I hadn’t noticed…maybe you could take me back
to your place and show me other letters, like O for orgasm, and C for climax. I’m actually quite fond of B for bad girl.”
He shook his head and chuckled
. “What if I want a good girl?”
. “Then you wouldn’t still be standing here.”
’s go,” he ordered, placing a bill on the bar and grabbing my hand.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Nick lived in the penthouse suite at a casino nearby. The suite matched the imported car the valet chauffeured up. We didn’t talk much on the car ride back to his house, which was fine by me because I didn’t care to do much talking.
He punched in a code and the elevator took us up to the top floor. The doors opened to a big open room with a panoramic view of
Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he whispered in my ear from behind me.
I curved my neck to feel his breath on me. “Of course, what kind of girl do you think I am?”
“Exactly the kind of girl I’d like to put over my knee.” He spanked my ass
, making me yelp.
The smile that appeared on his handsome face before he walked away from me made me ache. It resembled the smile that Mr. Nichols would always give me. I didn’t think I could
follow through with it anymore and I began to walk toward the door.
“Going somewhere?” he implored
, grabbing me by the waist. His tone was arrogant and inviting. I closed my eyes, trying to stay in the present and avoid the flashbacks that had been coming to me at an increasing rate.
The tip of his fingers touched the side of my arm. “Because…I didn’t say you could go.” He murmured in my ear, “I thought we were just getting acquainted. You look like you could use a friend.”
“You don’t know shit about me,” I angrily replied.
“You’re right, I don’t.” He traced soft kisses down the side of my neck and I subconsciously leaned toward them
, wanting more. Nothing was ever enough.
“How about you tell me…not that I wouldn’t mind finding out on my own
,” he enticed as his hand moved from the curve of my ass to my pussy from behind.
He groaned and the thoughts that led as his fingers slipped into my opening were of Mr. Nichols
’ hands on me. When he rubbed from my nub to my opening, spreading the moisture all over my folds, I bit my lower lip from calling out his name.
“Why is your pussy so wet, G? I’ve barely even touched you.” I jolted when he roughly grabbed the back of my neck
, moving me toward the couch.
I should have been scared…terrified even.
He shoved my upper body forward on the back of the couch and I fell over, barely catching myself on the edge. I turned to watch him pull down my dress and panties. He grabbed one ankle and then the other, leaving me completely exposed with nothing on but my heels. He stepped back to admire me and I relished in the feeling of having a man’s eyes on me. G loved this. This was where she was confident, and this was where she shined.
He was still fully dressed in his black slacks and blue button down
. His index finger caressed my spine in an up and down motion. “You’re so tiny, G. I don’t want to break you.”
“You can’t break what’s already broken, Mr. Nichols
,” I mindlessly responded.
“What did you call me?” he roared in a tone that made my eyes roam to the back of my head.
He licked his fingers and placed them on my clit. “That’s not my name,” he reminded as his other hand reached around and grabbed me by the front of my throat, moving me on his chest. He felt firm, muscular. I wanted so badly to see him naked.
He slapped my pussy, lightly at first
, and then he slapped harder until my knees buckled and I whimpered.
“I asked you a question, G, and I expect an answer
,” he prompted as he made slow circles around my clit.
“Oh God,” I sighed
, trying to catch my breath. “I called you Mr. Nichols.”
“Who is Mr. Nichols?” he interrogated in a patronizing voice, while moving his fingers faster around my nub, making it difficult for me to stand.
“Mmmm...” I moaned in both pleasure and pain.
“Answer the fucking question. Trust me. You don’t want me to ask again.”
“Jesus…fuck…” My head fell back on his shoulder, as did most of my body weight. His hand squeezed my throat harder as he continued to monopolize my pussy.
’t let you come until you answer,” he stated, biting my shoulder and slapping my pussy.
I hesitated for a few seconds. “He-he was my teacher
,” I revealed and he spun me around so fast I didn’t even see it coming. He grabbed my chin. “You are a fucking disaster, aren’t you?” His fingers moved to the sides of my mouth and dug into my cheeks, making my mouth open.
“You have no idea what you agreed to when you came home with me, G
,” he warned as he placed me on the edge of the couch.
“Open your legs
,” he ordered. “Wider.” He rubbed and slapped my pussy, taking turns in making me jump and struggle.
His hand found my throat again
, but this time he had more leverage to squeeze since he was facing me. “Trust me with your body,” he coaxed.
He tightened his hold around my throat and slowly my air was taken from me
Everything started going dark, darker, black…until the only thing I could see was my life playing out for me like a tragic Shakespearian play. I saw it all, starting from when I was little. I went from being with Nick, with his hands around my neck, to being nine years old and playing hide-and-go-seek with Mack.
“Mack!! Mack!! I’m going to find you…you can’t hide from me. Are you behind the bushes? Are you under the slide? Hmmm…where is Mackity Mack?” I roamed around aimlessly looking for
her; I had been for the last ten minutes. She was the best hider; sometimes it took me over thirty minutes to find her. I don’t know why we continued to play a game where she was always hiding and I always did the seeking. I guess that’s what nine-year-olds do.
saw her shadow behind the big oak tree and I ran as fast as I could before she could see me coming. She screamed in delight as I took off after her.
“You can’t catch me! I am faster
than you!” she yelled, looking behind her to see how close I was. I saw it before it happened. She didn’t see the branch that stuck out of the ground and fell face first into the ditch.
I got down on my knees as soon as I caught up to her.
“Oh my God, Mack, are you okay?” She sniffled as the tears fell down her face. “Do you want me to run home and get my dad?”
shook her head no and brushed away her tears with the back of her hand.
“What can I do?”
“I don’t know. I’m okay I think.” Her knee looked pretty bad; there was blood mixed with dirt, but I think it was only a scrape. I wanted to make her feel better.
…” I smiled and got up to find what I was looking for. It took me a few minutes to find a stick that was pointy enough. I eagerly grabbed it and ran back to sit right beside her.
“What are you doing?”
she questioned, looking at me lopsided.
I grabbed the stick and cut into my skin right across my knee
, the same place Mack was hurt. She looked at me like I was crazy. I pushed the palm of my hand over my cut and told Mack to do the same to hers. She did. I grabbed her wrist with my clean hand and brought my bloody one up, then I closed them together.
“There! Now we’re blood sisters. Anything you feel, I feel
; we’re attached for life.” The smile that spread across her face was worth the wincing pain in my knee. We helped each other up and leaned on one another, limping our way home.
Mack and I always did everything together. We were both
only children and a part of me always wondered if they did it that way for a reason. If they had it planned out that way, was our friendship inevitable since day one? Do families normally do that? I still don’t know the answer to that question, but it has never stopped me from thinking about it.
I’d like to say that I was an amazing student
and that I caught on quickly to new and old material, but I would be lying…school and I didn’t click, not one bit. I always tried my best because I wanted to impress my parents; they had high expectations for their only daughter. That put an immense amount of pressure on me. I never wanted to let them down; I wanted them to be proud of me. Even though I was the only child, it didn’t mean that I didn’t feel the competition I had to keep up with. McKenzie was great at school; she was quick and clever. She caught on to anything, just seeing it one time. It was inspiring; I wanted to learn like she did. She didn’t even have to study half the time. Everything came so natural to her; she never had to try, it was just there.
“Ugh! I don’t understand, Mack. This is so stupid. Why do I need to learn this?”
“Ummm…because it’s math and you might need to add something.”
I rolled my eyes as I heard the garage door opening.
“Hi, girls,” my dad said with a huge smile across his face.
He came right over to the
dining room table and kissed the top of my head and then proceeded to do the same to Mack.
“Look at you guys
. Are my girls studying hard?”
,” Mack bellowed. It made me want to roll my eyes again.
Mack always did this when my dad was around. She always wanted to seem like she was the perfect one. I
couldn’t really argue with that because she was. She did everything right the first time and never had to constantly keep trying like me.