The old man gave the girl a job. She could have gotten a job anywhere and it just had to be at Dan’s. Like I need anymore temptation.  I roll the sleeves of my shirt to my elbows and tuck the hem deep into my pants. The sound of her blow dryer is loud from the next room over, but not as loud as her screams from last night. I didn’t know what was going on, but before I could rush to her room to see if someone had broken in, I realized it was a nightmare. Just to be sure, I looked through the slit in her door. She thrased around in her sheets, swinging her arms wildly like someone chased her. My fingers wrapped around the knob, and I thought about going inside, but I wasn't sure how she'd react to having someone wake her. A few seconds later, she sat up in her bed, rubbing her eyes and wiping away stray tears.  My heart thumped at the sight of her so vunerable. It wasn't that she didn't wear her feelings on her sleeves already, but th

The writing scribbled on a Post-It taped to the fridge is from Will. I can tell by the crap handwriting. It looks like they’re having some douche frat meeting at the condo tomorrow because the frat house is being renovated. I crumple the note into a ball and toss it in the trash. Like we don’t have enough douchebags in this apartment already. *** My mom is sitting in her room, which contains a twin-size bed with a dresser and nightstand. She looks so small curled up in the middle of her crumpled blanket with her knees under her chin. A small glass of water is on the nightstand next to her. It looks untouched. The rooms are small, but there’s no dope or alcohol and that’s all that matters. Dark half-moons hang underneath both eyes, and I know she’s having a hard time. The first few weeks are always the worst. “Mom.” She opens her eyes and blinks at me for a few seconds. A small smile crawls up her lip. “Cade. I didn’t kn

The scalding shower water rushes down me, heating and soothing my body. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her. The softness of her skin or the delicious sweet taste of her mouth. Don’t even get me started about how she felt around my finger. I wanted to go hulk mode on her—rip her clothes, my clothes, everybody’s clothes, but the panties were probably enough. I won’t be able to keep myself out of her for too much longer. That innocent gaze, the smart mouth hidden beneath such a submissive demeanor. How could anyone not want her? I finish my shower and get ready to go pick Jaden up for work. I’ve been avoiding Adam since this morning. He’s never tried to fight me before, but I’d never messed around with his sister before either. I can’t believe he even bought it to be honest. I grab a drink from the fridge, and my hand is on the door when I hear Will scoot a kitchen stool across the tile. He’s sitting down, leaning his elbow against t

Mom isn't at her usual lowdown drug houses or the seedy motel on Highway 10. My bad mood grew with each mile I added to my odometer looking for her. I should have known she wouldn't have stayed at the rehab, she never did. After an hour, I decide to go home since it's getting late. Jaden's lack of texting me back has me on edge. I was sure Adam hadn't believed she went home for the night, but not enough to keep her from texting me. The lights are off when I get home, the only evidence of someone being home is the snoring from Will's room. I double-check that Adam isn't home before walking into Jaden's room. Her back is turned to me, but I can tell she's awake from her breathing. "Did you find her?" she asks softly. I crawl over the bed and wrap my arm around her, taking in her flowery scent. "No, she'll show up soon. Did Adam harass call you any?" "No." Turning her over, I glance at her tear-filled eyes. "What's wrong?

I step into the bar, the dim lighting casts shadows over the room and makes me feel even more out of place. Even though on the outside I know I fit in, my objective of finding the douchebag that took my mother makes me feel like a nark. I slide onto a barstool and order a drink. There are many seedy characters standing around pool tables and hanging around the dance floor, but none of them look old enough to know the guy from my mother's house. The bartender hands me my drink. "Thanks, Bro. How long have you been working here?"I down the amber liquid. He pushes his long hair from his eyes, and lifts a brow that's pierced in three different places. "You not into girls your age?" he asks. "Not for me. I'm looking for someone. A guy in his forties, biker, huge beard." He gives me a bored look. "This isn't a biker bar. It's more for college kids. You could try The Hell-Hole down town; they have a lot of bikers that go there." I sigh. I