Saturday, 6:07 A.M.
"I'M GOING, ROBERT! FUCK!" I roar into the phone before hanging up and forcefully swinging my duffel bag over my shoulder. Jenalyn tosses and turns on the bed beside where I stand. She's been passed out since her little retribution fuck this morning. I've been wide awake, being bombarded with messages from Rob making sure that Jenalyn would seal this deal.
In an angered fit last night, I somehow managed to convince myself to let her do the deal. I told myself it'd be the smarter option here- not only to hopefully change the relationship dynamics she thinks she shares with me, but for business in general. I rip the blankets from her body- my frustrations with myself, and the whole situation with her ultimately getting the best of me. She snaps awake in a panicked fear, but I don't leave her any time to question my rude awakening before my voice booms through the room.
"Get up, and get showered. We're late." Jena sits up, but moves with ease as she scans her surroundings, stretches, and then crawls across the bed to retrieve a roach from last night. I dont even realize how much her behavior irks me, how it reminds me of how weak I've become, until I find myself storming across the room to grasp her wrist so hard the roach drops effortlessly from it.
"Get up." I demand, using my grip on her wrist to pull her still sleepy body from the bed. "Get showered," I continue, dragging her to the bathroom and turning the shower on myself. "We're going to be late." In a swift motion, I lift Jena into the shower, not noticing the panties she must've slipped back on after I took them off of her last night.
I expect some kind of comment from her- a snarky one about my attitude, waking up on the wrong side of the bed, or some other underhanded effort to try to manipulate me into feeling bad for being a fucking man. A very wealthy man, mind you, who built a fucking empire from the ground up, and who DESERVES the respect I request from the broken ass bitches I save.
But I hear nothing but the splash of the water I'm sure is close to freezing against the shower floor, and the sniffles of Jenalyn trying to process what she'd woken up to today. I turn around and leave the bathroom before my vision has time to clear itself from rage, and I get glimpse of how hurt Jena's face must be.
I can't look- because the moment I go back on this is the moment I admit to myself how weak I've really become because of her.
YOU ARE READING
Jenalyn: Daring to Defy (#1)[Complete]
General FictionThis is the story of Jenalyn, a girl broken by a system that was meant to protect her. Trying to fend for herself in what seems like a world out to get her is rough enough; but trying to do it with Dissociative Identity Disorder is almost impossible...