I send him the address and I wait and pray that Jameson doesn’t come outside. I rub my cheek, wondering if he left a mark. He fucking slapped me when I said I didn’t want to have sex with him tonight. I’ve been with my fair share of shitty men, like Justin, Josh, Jake, and Johnathon. Now that I think about it, I’m one-hundred percent off J names for the future.
It feels like my life is slowly crumbling apart, and I’m not sure how to catch myself. The only positive thing I have going for me is that Aiden gave me a job at his company, but it’s not what I see for my future.
I’m not really sure what I want to do career wise.
I have an idea of what I wanted my life to look like by now. I wanted a husband who was obsessed with me, like truly positively in love with me, and I knew I wanted to be a mother. Maybe it made me pathetic that these were my aspirations in life, but it’s what I’ve always wanted.
My therapist says I have major abandonment issues and I’m trying to fill that void with romantic relationships. I know she’sright, and we’ve been trying to work through some of the things holding me back, one of the things is easier said than done. I’ve tried to gather the courage to look for my birth parents. All I know is that I was left at a church and spent a year in foster care until my parents formally adopted me.
I’ve been loved deeply by my parents and my extended family, and I know it’s a choice to love me. But is it so bad to want that special someone who chooses me completely, not because I was adopted into their family? I don’t know why my parents unconditional love never seems to be enough and why I keep jumping head first into these romantic relationships, every time I do I get hurt.
This time I got physically hurt, and I think maybe it’s the wake-up call I needed. I’ve got to make some changes, because what I’m doing clearly isn’t working.
I’m on the wrong side of my twenties and I have no clue who I truly am or what I want in life.
The voice behind me startles me and I nearly drop my phone as he speaks.
“Come back inside, Penny. It’s raining,” Jameson says calmly, like he didn’t just slap me a few minutes ago.
“My cousin is coming to pick me up,” I reply.
I hope that he turns around and leaves, but of course I’m not that lucky.
“I’m sorry, I lost my temper, I had too much to drink. Just come back inside,” he pleads.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. He thinks he can hit me and just apologize and I’ll go right back to his apartment and fuck him? He’s out of his mind.
He grabs my arm and I flinch, but he’s faster and stronger than me.
Thankfully, Lincoln's white Porsche pulls up at that exact moment. I let out a sigh of relief, but Jameson doesn’t let go of my arm.
A car door shuts and I can feel Lincoln's looming presence behind me.
Lincoln is imposing, and would scare the shit out of any normal person, it seems like Jameson is no exception as he drops his hand and looks up at my tall, broad cousin.
“You good, Pen?” Lincoln asks.
“Yeah, I just want to go home.”
Jameson says nothing and we head towards Lincoln's car. He opens the car door for me and his face finally meets mine.
“Did he do that to your cheek?” he asks, his tone is dark.
“It’s fine. I just want to go home,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he replies.
He shuts my car door and the locks activate, Lincoln doesn’t get into the driver's side. Instead he walks up to Jameson, who is still standing there like an idiot.
I can’t hear what words are said between the two, but I do watch in horror as Lincoln slaps Jameson across the face, sending the asshole down to the wet pavement. I slink down into my seat, wrapping my arms around myself.
God, I’m glad he didn’t punch him. I don’t want him getting in trouble because I was the dumbass who put myself in the crosshairs of another man who didn’t give a shit about me.
Lincoln points down at Jameson shouting some words at him, before he calmly walks back to the car, unlocking the vehicle and getting into the driver's side.
It feels like the air leaves the cabin when his door is shut and he starts the engine. Neither of us are willing to break the silence or talk about what just happened.
He taps his finger in a rhythmic tone against the steering wheel as he drives. He doesn’t even put on music to cut someof the tension. I would listen to just about anything besides the deafening silence I’m suffering through in this car.
