December 29th, 2012 Morning    “You totally have an egg!” Tami pulls back my hair like a child lifting their teacher’s skirt—only the ass is this blaring injury I just can’t seem to hide. I only have vague shape of myself in my sleeping monitor to try to smooth my bangs back over. At least, what’s left of them. “I don’t have an egg.” “Does it hurt?” I wish she’d just bugger off with that stupid grin as she sits there on her half-broken chair. She rocks backward and forward on it like a seesaw. It’s quite impressive, actually. I can’t wait to see her hit the deck. “Of course, it hurts.” “Oh, my lordy.” I watch her hands snap over her mouth. Something tells me I don’t want to turn around. Well. I was right. I shouldn’t have turned around. “Sasha?” I have half a mind to lie to any man walking up with a bouquet so absurd. “This is she.” Tami butts in. Almost a

  December 31st, 2012 Morning   I don’t think I’ve woken up so gently in quite some time. The wind is howling, whipping around the house like it will just pick us up and carry us off at any second. Now I know how Dorothy felt. Maybe I’ll get some nice new shoes like she did. Though, come to think of it, I wouldn’t mind waking up in some faraway land. A land where the neighbours don’t know me as Damon’s kid and I don’t have to spend each work day staring at him and just wishing I could throw my arms around him in the hallway or kiss his cheek in passing. I suppose I could. I just don’t think that I could handle the talk of it all. If there’s one thing this village is good at, it’s talking. We’d slept in separate beds again. Mainly because we weren’t sure what time Chloe would get in. And if I’m honest, I’m not quite sure how I am going to survive the nights with her here. It would all be a great

He’s stopped walking. Wrapped his arms around my waist. Headlights are lighting up the street corner around the bend. I suppose he doesn’t want to look like he’s taking a woman hostage on New Year’s Eve. “Surely daddy would have told you not to get yourself into any compromising positions after the last time…” He has that look in his eye that says I’m going to kiss you now, though warns me not to resist. But to be completely honest, I think I’m about to be sick and I would rather keep my life than spray him in the face. So, I struggle. Smack at his shoulder. The street is awfully bright now. I can see that bruise so clearly, I wish I hadn’t. “I’m going to-” “Sasha!” Again, that slam of a car door. And he pulls back just like he did last week, only he doesn’t tell me to be quiet. He stares at me with a fury I don’t think I’ve ever seen alight in his eyes. And footsteps pound the pavement. Bertrand releases me a little too quickly. I stumble a bit. Land on the

I stand quietly. Her legs wrap around my sides. Walk us into the bedroom I wish we could just call ours. Kick the door shut. Like anyone will intrude. Milo won’t. I think he’s dead. That scruffy stray. I hope he isn’t. For Sasha’s sake. In any case, I drop her down on the bed as gently as I can. She’s still got my clothes on from last night. Hair fastened at the nape of her neck. And it takes me a moment to decide what to do. I’ve got so many things I want to. But I kiss her gently. Push her shirt up over her shoulders and throw it somewhere to my left. I don’t think we’ll have much use of it. And the feeling of her fingers up in my hair and the taste of the skin all on her stomach is enough to send me over the edge. I want to cut off her clothes with a pair of kitchen scissors and just have my way with her. And I just want her to take me by the scruff of my neck and use me at her discretion. Still, my heart goes into a frenzy at the sight of her. Pink, swollen and w

The guide glances over. A strange look on her face. She places a hand on my shoulder. Wants to take me outside. Where their best ones are, I’m guessing. “A couple of the younger ones are just outside; would you like to meet a few?” “Maybe later,” I shrug off her hand as politely as I can. I’m walking over before I can consider how best to not startle her. The girl doesn’t look up. I have a thing for strays. Not that this child is one. Souls who may need a little extra love. Perhaps because I know I do. “Hey…” I sit. Stiffly. My knees aren’t what they used to be. Not after years of service. I should have worn a pair of older jeans if I was going to be sat Indian style. Hindsight, I suppose. Always sharper. She looks up. Bright blue eyes. Almond shaped. Hooded. Doesn’t say a word. “Why don’t you go play?” “I’m waiting for James.” She has that huffy kid voice about her. Looks me up and down with a small frown. Stares straight back out the window. “James isn’t co