The Hockey God in My Bed

Author: Irene

Chapter 1

Word Count: 754 | Released on: Today at 09:35

ndow. "Darling, are you sure you gave Addie enough? We

in wen

They dru

y. This is the good stuff. She won't be able to fight it. She'll just lie the

yes, my vision swimmi

eiling windows of the hotel suite. Two bodies, tangled to

ame th

r Kendra's perfume, mingled with the sharp,

't just sink.

ighted down by an invisible force. A strange, unfamil

te our engagement anniversary. I was supposed to be wearing the

hurned in my stoma

arry. The woman I had ca

ldn't control streamed from the corners

she get you, and that massive trust fund her mother left her? Onc

place. A perfectly

ndra's maternal affec

ersary, in our celebration suite, and had

my finger, flashed in my mind. He'd promised to love me, to protect me. Those

I'd practiced baking. Every sweet, hopeful dream I'd had for

pid. An aching emptiness spread through me, a physical craving t

ing to use pain to fight the chem

e lounge subsided. I hear

here?" Kendra asked, her voice sharp with i

less

just going to ruin my name. They were going to

ng, every gossip blog in New York will have the headline: Sullivan heiress in drug-fueled orgy a

a knife twist

. Even with my eyes closed, I coul

t to my ear. "Don't blame us, Addie. Blame your dead mother,

rs trail down my cheek, a gesture of mock tenderness, lik

dle all the traces

It will be perfect. Once we get

r clicked ope

hell, but my soul was ignited by a hatred

ragged breaths and the distant, c

Chapter End

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The Hockey God in My Bed

Irene Modern

“At my lavish engagement party, I slipped away to surprise my fiancé. Instead, I found him in a dimly lit study, passionately kissing my stepmother. They weren't just having an affair; they were plotting to steal my mother's trust fund. "I put a little something in her champagne. By morning, she'll be the laughingstock of New York," my stepmother purred. She had arranged for a known felon to assault me in a hotel room upstairs, planning to invite reporters for my "walk of shame" so I'd lose my inheritance forever. Hunted by them and burning from the drug, I crawled across a narrow balcony ledge and fell right into a dangerous stranger's penthouse. To avoid the horrific fate my family planned, I chose my own destroyer, pleading with the cold-eyed stranger for help, my body burning with the drug. Returning home the next morning, my father furiously accused me of running off with a tramp and ruining the family name. My stepmother stood by his side, playing the sweet, concerned peacemaker while her eyes gleamed with smug victory. The naive girl who loved her family died in that hotel room. I finally saw them for the monsters they were. Instead of defending myself, I hung my head and spoke in a trembling, obedient voice, begging them for forgiveness. Let them think they had successfully broken me. When they least expected it, I would burn their world to the ground.”