Uncle John's Bathroom Readers Novels & Stories

“Why don't you tell your uncle about it? “It’s nothing serious, Mum,” Julian said quietly like he was embarrassed. “Don’t be silly,” She chuckled. “It’s nothing interesting, Mum,” He said firmly. “I don't want to bore him.” “Unsolved cases would not bore me,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table. I could see his breath hitch in his throat. “Try me,” I raised my brows.

It was all dark, heavy furniture and smelled like leather and whiskey. “Can’t I just drop in to say hello to my favorite uncle?” “Girl trouble?” Frankie said as he took his own seat. Finn dropped his head back against the couch, closed his eyes, and sighed. “Yeah.” “Is it the girl that you’re writing about?” Finn’s eyes popped open and he looked at his uncle. “What?” his uncle said with a shrug. “You think I don’t read your blog?” The side of Finn’s mouth tipped up in a crooked smile. “I thought you knew all the tricks,” he said.

They both asked in surprise. "Do you want us to arrest him or torture him? Ah, don't let us rape him... sh*t don't, he might still like it, he forgot how flirtatious it is, who is it? the one being punished." "You're really John, you're just being silly." Uncle said laughing. He scratched his head."I'm not kidding." After a few minutes, uncle had to leave because he said he had something important to do. John just talked about funny things until Flyn's phone rang so John stopped talking. Flyn pressed something and put his cellphone back in his pocket.

THE END. Dear Amazing Readers, We've reached the end of Forbidden Under His Roof, and I just want to say thank you. Thank you for every chapter you read, every comment, every vote, every review, and every bit of support you've shown. Whether you've been here from the beginning or joined along the way, I'm truly grateful you chose to spend your time with Bronwyn and Trenton. I hope this story made you laugh, cry, and fall in love with these characters as much as I did.

"No one will bathe you, so hurry up!" Oh my. That guy pissed me off. I roughly flung the blanket aside, moving quickly towards the bathroom. I made my footsteps slightly stomp on the floor out of annoyance at Uncle Matthew. I watched him as he entered the bathroom, then closed the door so roughly that it hit the frame quite hard. I exhaled roughly as I looked in the mirror and slowly undressed. I remembered how Uncle Matthew's eyes looked at me when I walked into the bathroom earlier. His eyes looked sharp and cold.

Which is when the fucking bathroom door opened once again. Apparently...even with the noise going on down below us, my mother had just managed to hear my Aunt's cry for help. Ascending the stairs, she had taken a moment more to inform my Uncle that she'd just heard her sister's cry for help. So he too then had followed her up the stairs in search of my Aunt. It had taken a moment for them to figure out where she was...even laughing about it as they opened the bathroom door. No doubt already well aware of her somewhat inebriated state and expecting something...just not what they found as they suddenly stepped into the room. Me...head slightly tossed back now, hands on my Aunt's head, fucking

Hell, just knowing she's no longer after Dominic makes me want to help her. "Thank you for the bath," I say slipping into the tub instead of asking one of the questions jumping around in my head. The lavender-scented bubbles are as relaxing as the soothing water. I rest my head against the bath pillow, completely covered in white, fluffy clouds. I can't help wondering if this is the calm before the storm. I have to face my uncle, the man who drained Aunt Kelly of all her savings, selfishly gambling every penny away. The same man who also attempted, on several occasions, to touch me. I'll never forget the sheer disgust on her face or the immense pain in her eyes. Dominic was right; Uncle John

He clenched and unclenched his jaws, then woke up with all the strength he could muster and rushed to the bathroom. I heard the water running, and I sighed. Even in his weakest state, he had decided not to get help. Adam wouldn't even lift a spoon when he gets a headache. I sat on the floor, my back placed on the edge of the bed as I studied the room. There was no single portrait of him. Just a large picture of a woman I've come to know as his late wife, and other expensive arts. A cough drew my attention to the bathroom, and almost immediately, I heard a loud thump.

A year later, I bought a villa in the heart of the city and had Mom move in with me. I would occasionally check on Uncle Steve and Aunt Valerie in the underground casino. Uncle Steve was always scrubbing the toilets with the only hand he had left while Aunt Valerie kneeled nearby and wiped the floors. Her face was always covered with bruises that were left by the patrons of the casino. They didn't dare lift their heads when they spotted me. They would huddle in a corner and tremble violently. As for Jordan, I heard that he didn't last even six months after he was sent to Maradona. His empty corpse was thrown into the river after they harvested all his organs.