No. No…
Now my subconscious was nagging me.
“Thanks, sis. I can always count on you,” Donovan said when he curled under the sheets.
His bed stunk of urine and maybe marijuana, but at least he was safe.
For now.
I went to work, thanking God I found large trash bags. They were left from the last time I’d been to his apartment maybe a month before. I’d also brought him cleaning supplies, which came in handy.
I spent hours cleaning the grime and filth, spending extra time in the kitchen and bathroom.
As light indicated the morning was ready to dawn, I was overwrought and coming close to tears. I didn’t care how embarrassing Donovan was to our father, I was going to give him hell for not caring enough to even check on his own son.
And what about my mother?
Was she really too busy with her charity events and posh gatherings with her rich friends? Hatred was lingering just below the surface. I knew it was blasphemous to hate your parents, especially since I knew my mother had always been kept under my father’s thumb, but right now, I needed to feel rage for someone.
My mother had been a trophy wife from day one. My grandfathers had gotten together, forging some insane business deal that had included my parents being married. Who did that kind of crap to their children?
A laugh bubbled to the surface. No wonder I thought the fake marriage with Christian was an abhorrent idea.
It was.
Yet my determination to keep my principles would prevent my own brother from getting the help he needed.
I’d tried so hard to get Dad to take Donovan back home in Atlanta, but he’d refused. My father had laughed at the idea.
I needed to step back from this, or I really would lose my mind. Cleaning. I could become absorbed in cleaning.
When I was finished making everything as neat and tidy as possible, I went to check on my brother. Thankfully, he was sleeping peacefully.
I stood watching him sleep for a few minutes, feeling hopeless and defeated. This wasn’t supposed to be my brother’s life. He’d gone to college on a full scholarship, told by his coaches he had a strong chance of making the NFL. Then the injury had happened and the bottom had fallen out of his world. He hadn’t even graduated from college because he’d been in so much pain.
How could my parents ignore him?
I knew I couldn’t. Not any longer.
Sighing, I knew what I had to do and if selling my soul to Christian was a way of obtaining help for my brother, then so be it. At least the money would go to a good use.
As if that could make me feel any better.
CHAPTER 12
Christian
Vanessa had turned me down.
Me.
I’d reread her words at least five times and nothing had changed.
She’d. Said. No.
The beautiful woman with a vivacious personality who’d surrendered to my every need had pulled a fast one.
I could not fucking believe it. Her email was the first one I’d seen when I’d walked into my office early that Monday morning. Very early. She’d left the email on Saturday. I’d sat back, staring at it. Short, sweet, and to the point.
