Temptation - Leigh Lennon

Prologue

Eve-Fifteen years ago

“It’s so cold, Daddy,” I cry out. Standing on the street, I’m trying to shield myself from the wind in a small alcove of the dumpy hotel where we are waiting outside of.

“Yeah, honey, I know. Darryl should be back anytime, and we’ll get you into bed.” The name Darryl has my body more numb than it already is. Darryl is one of my daddy’s drinking buddies, but at the age of twelve, I’ve begun filling out, and his eyes always wander over me. He gives me the creeps, and even at a young age, I understand men like him are sickos. But I’d give anything to get out of the cold winds of Chicago.

“Daddy, where’s all our money?” I’d seen him the other day at our PO box opening his disability check, and when he cashed it, I’d been hoping he’d pay our rent with it. But I’d come home from school to an eviction notice and a box of our stuff left in front of the door by our landlord.

“Oh, honey, it wasn’t enough. But don’t worry, I love you more than anything. I’ll get us out of the cold tonight.” It’s always the same thing every time we find ourselves homeless. He swears he loves me more than anything, but not more than his alcohol. One day, I’ll be on my own, and no one will ever have the power over me again.

Ten years ago

I pop my head into the little office of the property manager. “Eve, sweetheart, why are you not in school?” Larry is more of a caregiver to me than my own father, but if I don’t drop off the rent, my father sure as fuck won’t. It’s been a year since I’ve had to stay the night in homeless shelters or with the creepy ass Darryl. His interest in me is more prevalent since my breasts have become the focal point of my body. He even told my father he’d pay next month’s rent if he could break my ass in.

And my father’s reply? “We have rent for this month, already.” He didn’t punch the man for asking him to ho his daughter out for rent. But, what can I expect from a drunk?

Larry’s still waiting on my reply but is moving to his little fridge he keeps in his office. “The missus sent you some of her famous spaghetti and meatballs.” Larry is always feeding me. He knows my hours at the little diner next door and how rent depletes my money as I’m the one paying the rent and not my father. “So, what is the reason you’re not at school?” he asks again.

“It’s a holiday. I worked an extra shift today and thought I’d drop off the money before…” I don’t finish the sentence because we both know my father will most likely drink it if I left it lying around the apartment.

He places the Tupperware dish in my hands, giving me a weak smile. “I better go, Larry, but I’ll return this later in the week.”

“Ah, no need, kid. And the missus wants you over for dinner soon. You got it?”

“Yes, sir, I sure do.” I turn on my heels, taking the steps to our second-floor walk-up. Turning the key in the door, I shut it and lock it behind me, walking straight into the rinky-dink kitchen, while I heat the only dinner I’ll most likely have tonight.

“Hey, beautiful.” The voice scares me, causing me to drop my food on the floor, but I recognize it right away.

“What the fuck!” I scream at him—at Darryl. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He’s cozy on the cigarette-stained couch, but with my harsh words, he’s across the room in a second from me at the only barrier, a small peninsula island.

“Ah, that’s no way to greet your uncle Darryl.” This title gives me more heebie-jeebies than his gaze roaming my body. “It looks like you dropped your dinner.”

“No shit,” I reply, and I tear off some paper towels to clean it up. I hate wasting the food, but I won’t be eating anything off this floor, that’s for sure.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, and when I turn around, he’s in front of me, too close to me. “But I’m here now, and the things I can do to you. I’ll make you forget all about your spilled milk.”

“It’s spaghetti, you asshole.” I walk past him, and he pulls me by the wrist. “I’m tired of this, little girl. You’re mine, and