In a way, it was flattering, but also very, very wrong. The man shook his head and with his eyes still on the road, answered my somewhat rude question. Everyone else had gone to bed or to watch TV and it was just me on the main floor. “Getting ready for bed?”
“Something like that. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. It hurt, but it hurt more when he removed it from my body. That was our arrangement. Such a shame, dead at 21. Before long, he was thrusting inside her. But before I could say anything else, my mother screamed out Mike’s name, and I heard a mocking laughter. “What do you say?” Mike demanded. My pajamas, a blouse and pants, the least sexy things I owned, were going to be my protective armor. She must’ve craved sex, the touching, the attention, the release. “Hey, beautiful,” one of the boys said and snatched the luggage from me. I thought he was going to rat me out, call our parents, get me punished, but he was
