Dirty Boy (11 page)

Story glanced around the room with the silver blue walls, blue floral bed skirt and matching curtains, that Max had assigned to her. The white lamps and white bedspread gave the place a beachy feel. The landscape scene hung above the brass bed and she smiled. The stark contrast to her sofa bed in her old apartment reminded her she was only there for the night and by Max’s grace.

He wanted her to admit to something she hadn’t done and knew nothing of—stealing Winston’s money.

Throwing her backpack aside, she frowned.

Stealing. Winston’s money.

Stealing? Winston’s money?

No! Her mother wouldn’t do something criminal. That wasn’t Babs’ style. She liked luxury too much. Committing an illegal act would take away her creature comforts and land her in jail. She couldn’t be that stupid or money-hungry. Winston gave her everything she wanted.

Story refused to believe her mother could sabotage herself to that extent.

She’d thought maybe…maybe…
What?
She’d known all along that Babs had ruined the marriage. Ruining her marriage was one thing, though. She couldn’t connect
theft
and her pink-Mercedes-driving mom.

Only one way to find out. Getting her phone from her pocket, she sighed at the low minute warning text she received for the millionth time. Nothing from Babs about Story’s request for a way home. Hopefully, her mom answered this time.

She did on the second ring, with a terse, “What now, Story?” floating through the phone line.

“You stole Winston’s money,” she greeted, not a question, but a statement, filled with resentful accusation. The more she thought about it, the more sense it made. As into her mom as Winston had been, only a drastic act from Babs would’ve made him throw her out. “No wonder he left you high and dry. How could you? Why did you?” she asked into the silence, listening to clinking ice on her mother’s end. “What did you do anyway?” If Max was going to accuse her, she needed the details. “I’m surprised he hasn’t had you arrested. Or me, for that matter.”

“You?” She laughed. “Why would Winston do that? He liked you as much as he could. Pity he didn’t care for daughters, otherwise he might’ve recognized your need for a daddy.”

“Please,” Story snapped with a snort. “At last count, I had twelve fathers, not including my biological one, and I’m just counting down to my thirteenth.”

“So bitchy tonight. After I fed you for…how many days will that crap last you? Fifteen? That’s if you eat it twice a day.”

Since they’d gone to the strip club, she hadn’t seen Babs but once to get ten dollars for a huge quantity of Ramen noodles.

“Mom—”

“How’d you find out?”

“Why’d you do it?” She wouldn’t bother answering Babs’s question. Her mother had to know Winston’s sons had exposed her.

“He wouldn’t rent Liechtenstein for me.”

Story jerked, sure she’d misheard. Of all the insane flakiness her mother had ever done, this topped everything. “You mean like the country?”

“You can rent it for seventy thousand dollars a day and—“

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Did you just cuss at me?”

“Oh my God! Get over it, Mom. You’re lucky I didn’t cuss
you
.”

“That’s enough, Story Elizabeth Thornton. I’m still your mother. Two weeks ago you were bitching at me because of the bills you had to pay. Now, you’re bitching at me because of Winston. He hurt my feelings, so I treated myself to money he would’ve spent if he’d given in.”

Hysterical laughter escaped Story.
Renting a country
sounded insane to her own ears. Yet, this was a serious matter, nothing to joke about. “How much did you take?”

“A quarter of a million dollars.”

“
What?
” Story screeched, beside herself at the cavalier announcement.

“You heard me. Two hundred fifty thousand dollars. Enough to pay the rent and buy a few extras.”

“It wasn’t your money, Mom. It was in
his
account.”

“He’s my husband. He’d always given me everything I wanted. I don’t understand his overreaction because I broke into his desk. Besides, you’re wrong, it wasn’t
his
check. It was a company check to some business that he owns with his sons. He owns ninety percent, so, technically, it’s
his
company. I was helping out at the office and I had access to the account. I forged his signature, took it to the bank and cashed it.”

Story’s mouth opened and closed in pathetic shock as she listened to Babs’s calm explanation. “Let’s see, Mom. You’re an embezzler and an ID Theft criminal and…and…”

“A whore,” Babs filled in with breezy bluntness. “I gave more blowjobs than you can imagine to feed us when we were on the streets those few years. I do what I must to survive.”

“We’ve been off the streets for seventeen years!
Seventeen
. You don’t have to behave as if you’re all alone in the world. You’re not. You have me. I love you. Winston…um…” Well, she couldn’t tell that lie. Winston probably hated both of them as much as his sons did.

“Winston what, Story? I dare you to say it. Loves me? I asked him for one thing. I’ve never asked him for anything. He gave it to me. He’s a liar. All he ever said was ask for anything and he’d give it to me.”

“Oh my God! He’s still paying your rent. He’s…he’s…” She couldn’t finish. All she knew was Winston was probably doing more than paying her mom’s rent, even after Babs’ crime.

Tired and out-of-sorts anyway, she decided she’d let the matter drop. Her tolerance levels had dipped too far down for this hopeless battle.

“Where are you, by the way?”

“In LA. Ryker flew me out to meet with Max.”

Silence and then, “Did you sign the contract?”

“Yes, but I...I want to come home and I don’t have any money. If you can buy me a bus ticket to Dallas, I won’t ever ask you for anything again.”

More silence before Babs continued. “Max has the biggest dick
ever
. Put the size of his dad’s cock to shame. We watched him one night and all Winston managed to say was he once fucked with that vigor. I never had complaints with Winston’s fucking but looking at Max…WOW!”

“
Mom!
Are you on something? Why do I want to hear about you….oh my God, I need brain bleach.” Besides, she already knew the size of Max’s dick and the vigor in which he fucked. He put everything into it and made her feel owned.

“I’m glad you listened to me. Make the money and—“

“I tried to do a scene and made a complete mess of it. I want to come home. This was such a bad idea.”

“You could do worse.”

“Mom, I want to come home,” Story repeated.

“I don’t have the money to waste on a bus ticket. You’re there. See how it goes. Remember sex is a tool, darling. What’s between your legs is your ticket to a life of leisure.”

“It’s more than that. What about passion? Desire? Love?”

“What’s love, Story?” Babs questioned. “I…what are wives except legalized whores?”

Her head beginning to ache, Story bolted upright at that statement. “
What?
I’ve never heard of such a thing. That’s insane. Wives are the other halves of their husbands.”

“Wives have to cook, clean, push out kids, and fuck. Same as girlfriends and mistresses. The only thing that piece of paper does is make it legal and gives a woman a man’s last name.”

“Mom, listen to me. You’ve never given yourself a chance to fall in love.” Story always thought her mother loved Winston, but she doubted that now. “You’ve gotten one husband after the other. If you slow down…if we work together, you can take a breather. Find a man you really love.”

“Enough about me, baby,” she replied, ignoring Story’s words, as usual. “Back to you. Fulfill your obligations to Dirty Boys. Contracts are for three months. Hopefully, you’ll be popular and earn high-end fees, so you can pay off all the debt.”

“Stay and honor the contract?”

“Jesus, hon, didn’t I just say that? Three months. Maybe, a scene a day. Explore your sexuality. At one time, I thought I’d bring you a stepmother. She didn’t fit my tastes.” She cackled. “Oops. Unintended pun.”

“Bye, Mom.”

“I won’t be able to keep giving you handouts. Besides, you’ll stop whining to me about the debt you’re in if you earn this money.”

“Yeah, s-sure. I’m here, right? I might as well…” Her voice trailed off and she bowed her head. She might as well stay and become Max’s lover. Ignore all the pitfalls and mistakes that entailed.

“Don’t sound like that. You’re twenty, far too old to be a virgin. You’re living in a dream world, thinking you’ll find ‘
the one
’. No such person exists. Live your life. Have fun. Loosen up and pitch a little pussy around. It’ll do wonders for your Goody Too Shoes attitude. If I wasn’t willing to fuck my way up, would you have lived at Winston’s mansion until he kicked us out? No. You’re overcompensating for what you think I’m lacking. I’m a free spirit and you’re a buttoned-up, old spinster.
And
you could do worse than fucking Max Sherwood for your first time. Any of Winston’s sons. But you have to admit Max is gorgeous and hot.”

Also, only about five or six years younger than Babs. “Mom, did you sleep with him?”

“Who? Max?”

“Yes,” she answered, a sick feeling welling inside of her, as she awaited the answer.

“I beg your pardon?” Babs gasped in outrage. “I have some morals. Stepsons are off-limits. I
can
look. He’s some piece of man candy that you’ve always fantasized about.”

“I have to go,” she said, wanting the conversation over with.

For long moments after the line went dead, Story gripped her phone. Unless she came up with another idea, she was officially an adult entertainer. She’d have to dye her hair or ask for a wig. She certainly couldn’t be “herself” and still expect to become a school teacher.

Roaming to the window, she glanced at the purple-pink sky, wishing she had a better view than just the condo next door. On the heels of that thought, she grimaced. Two days ago, she’d been in an inner city apartment with leaky faucets and noise pollution. She’d end up back there, once she left Max, so she couldn’t get used to her new surroundings.

They were only temporary.

Story leaned her head against the cool glass pane. Her mother’s revelation, Max’s accusations, their sex, all combined and made her feel as if her world had been upended.

In her mind’s eye, she saw him. Coming toward her at the bus station. Hovering above her in that bed on the set. Directing her on how to suck his cock.

Accusing her of stealing his father’s money.

She scrubbed a hand over her face. She was in so much trouble. So at Max’s mercy. It wasn’t as if she had anyone else to turn to. Ryker had left her out to hang, not even admitting they’d been communicating for days before she’d arrived at the studio. Eric hated her. Her mother was insane.

And Winston had been deceived and lied to.

Blowing out a weary breath, Story backed away from the window. She wished she could clear her head of everything she’d learned today. All the emotion she’d felt. Especially her jealousy.

At that moment, Max was with Natalia. It didn’t matter that he’d taken Story’s virginity mere hours ago. Of course, Story couldn’t fault him because he hadn’t lied to her. Hadn’t pretended she was someone he wanted a future with.

She needed to get her head together, steel herself for his wrath and his women. Today, she’d become one of them. She still felt his hands and mouth on her. His scent lingered on her clothes and her body.

Grabbing her backpack, she ignored how ridiculously giddy the thought made her feel. She should’ve been repulsed that he’d added her to his harem. But the Max she’d met so long ago was the one she’d given her virginity to, and sucked off.

She poured her meager belongings on the bed, scolding herself that she was basing her reactions on him
now
to the way he’d treated her
then.