The Hockey God in My Bed

Chapter 6

Word Count: 572 | Released on: Today at 09:35

outside was a pale,

empty, but the sheets were still warm, the pil

e betrayal. The bloody escape. The wild, des

st, revealing a canvas of dark bruises bloomin

Sullivan. I had just lost my virginity to a compl

in the adjoining bathroom se

still

uld I possibly define what we had done? He was my savior, b

to lea

a meat grinder, I scrambled out of bed. My dress, tor

n't wea

t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. They were hu

on, feeling

something so intimate? I didn't want to owe him anything. I wante

man's leather wall

nd practical, f

. Then we would be even. He saved my life, I paid

uld salvage a single shr

ghable trinket now-and the delicate diamond necklace

with hundred-dollar bills. I pulled o

cash under

hundred dollars. For a night like that, it was an insult. But it wa

write a note, but found none.

n the bathr

seiz

f the suite, down the empty morning cor

I kept my head down as I sped through the grand lobby,

doors and the cold New York air hit my f

ab I saw and gave th

Chapter End

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open

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.”