Sin & Salvation

Chapter 28

"Babe, where are all my sweats?"

I'm woken up by Jason's shouting in the next room, and the sun coming through the partially open blinds streaming directly into my sleepy eyes.

Payton yells back from the kitchen, "I've been letting Cora wear some since she doesn't have any clothes yet. I was going to do laundry today."

For the past three days, I've been staying at their apartment, too afraid to go back home and confront Brett. He's only texted once since I've been here. All it said was, "I love you. I'm sorry." I contemplated answering it for over an hour before deciding to send back, "I love you too. But I can't forgive you."

Anyone else would say I'm an idiot for telling him I loved him, but I do. It's not like all my love for him and six years together could disappear in one night. And it didn't mean I was going to get back with him. He never responded after that, but I also know he's been hopped up on serious painkillers for his injuries.

Jason stayed over since it was the weekend, helping him around the house, and taking care of him since I wasn't there. Even if Jason is a grade-A douchebag, I'm glad that at least Brett has such a good friend like that. Jason told Payton on the phone yesterday that Brett has a mild concussion, an orbital fracture, minor cuts, and a ton of bruising and swelling. And to top it all off, a sprained wrist from punching Silas in the face.

Quickly glancing at my phone, I see it's only 6:30 in the morning. It's Monday so they're both getting ready for work— something I don't have. When I start thinking about how I can't financially support myself if I leave Brett, I get anxious. Ignoring the thought, I roll back over, covering my head with my pillow to block out their voices along with my own.

Jason sounds muffled as he shouts back, "Can't she wear any of yours?"

Even with the pillow covering my ears, I can hear Payton's annoyance as she replies, "Be so fucking serious, Jason. That girl has an absolute dump truck of an ass. Do you really think she'd fit into my 'pancake-ass' sized pants?"

I can't help but giggle at her response because she's not wrong. They would probably go up to my thighs and then rip in half. I'm just glad I fit into some of her underwear so I didn't have to borrow any of Jason's that have probably touched his unwashed ass.

Knowing I'm too conscious to sleep anymore, I begin to pull the pillow off my head when Jason comes barrelling through the door without warning. I'm on my stomach with the sheets half off, my thong-clad ass partially exposed to him.

I scramble to flip over and pull the sheets up. "Jason, what the fuck is wrong with you? Haven't you heard of—oh, I don't know... knocking?"

He's only wearing a pair of black Calvin Klein boxer briefs, his sculpted figure completely on display. If I can forget about how much an idiot he is, the guy standing in front of me is fucking hot. The way his arms are crossed over his chest make his muscles pop and my eyes briefly drop to the visible outline of his flaccid dick which is notably average.

My eyes go back to his face which looks completely unbothered.

"I love you Cora, but you and your juicy, dump-truck booty need to get over to your own house today and work shit out with your man. Or at the very least, get some clothes, because—" he says, rushing over and flipping me on my stomach before delivering a sharp smack to my ass, "this thing is stretching out my favorite sweats."

I yelp out in pain and turn around to hit him hard in the arm. He takes this as an invitation to tackle me to the bed, pinning me down underneath him as he begins tickling me. Laughter pours out of me, my body just naturally reacting to him. I try my best to shove him off of me, hitting him on the arms and failing miserably.