#Snapped *on hold*

Carissa Vonholt

Carissa Vonholt

It was Friday night and I had cooked Dillon and I dinner. It was tradition for us to have a weekly date night. Lately, our date nights have constituted of me, a book, and a glass of wine from my cellar's reserve. For the last three weeks, Dillon and I had been arguing about things that I can't even seem to remember precisely at the moment. All I retained from those arguments were the vile poisonous words of worthlessness he had reduced me to.

To be frank, I can't even begin to understand why I'm with the man. Oh yeah, he was there for me once when it counted most. I told myself. It was the same thing I told myself every time I thought about leaving the guy who was no longer doing it for me. He might have been the proverbial knight in shining armour for me in my darkest hour but he was far from that man these days.

Like mother, like daughter. I thought. Why did I have to be like my mother? That woman had such bad taste in men.

First, there came the day where my father left in the dark of the night only to never come back. I was five then. Since then, not once had I heard from him. Not a letter. No cards for birthdays or Christmas. For years, I had been fine with it. It was just me and Mom. Those were the happy days.

When I became a teenager, I started noticing men coming around more frequently. One more than others made his appearance more frequently and thus became a member of the family when I was sixteen - Quentin. I never bothered to say anything for the longest time, that is, until the bastard tried to make his move on me when Mom had to work late one night. I did what any smart girl would do and told my mother about touching me. Suffice it to say, she chose his side over mine. Her own flesh and blood! By the time I was seventeen, they were married, much to my own detriment and a week before my eighteenth birthday, Mommy dearest and Mr. Q had announced my immediate departure from their cozy little lovers' nest. If I were to be honest right now, I would have to tell you that Quentin purchasing me a condo and sending me off with an unlimited amount of funds to live on my own was the best birthday gift. I was ecstatic at the prospect of living on my own but I never once thought of any repercussions of being tied financially to that bastard.

Like any normal young adult slash teenager, I went through the motions of having fun with the unlimited funds Mr. Q had provided me with until one day, when I was 23, where everything had gone horribly wrong.

Today's my university graduation day. I couldn't have been happier. The girls and I were getting ourselves ready for tonight's last big hurrah before summer began.

Hours later, the music was thumping and my condo was filled to capacity. I had been slowly making my rounds and greeting every group and that's when I saw him. What with those dark brown chocolate eyes, that thick mane of black hair, that godlike body that I wouldn't mind worshipping for the night; I simply had to have him. Now, before you jump to conclusions, I'm not a slut. I've only been with three guys since being kicked out and shipped into this luxurious condo of mine. Tonight, however was my night and I simply was looking to have some fun with someone and if it led to something more, then so be it.

His gaze met mine as I walked toward him and he flashed me a knowing grin as he turned from his guy friends and walked my way.

"Hey sexy." He says.

"Right back at ya!" I rebutted. "Having fun?"

"Quite the party. My accolades to the host." He looked me in the eye.

"You mean the hostess. Carissa." I stuck my hand out and he took it, bringing it to his soft and heated lips. The contact made my skin burn and I couldn't help but wonder what those lips of his were capable of doing.