I wanted to throw it into the trash, but that wouldn’t be very nice.
My sister didn’t have a choice in how she was treated any more than I had a choice in how I was treated.
Which was why we lived in Mexico, in a house in the hills, with the very best of everything we could ever ask for because what they were doing to me was unethical. They would never allow me to be in a position where I could snitch on them that I wasn’t willingly donating.
My parents could afford anything. Anything.
Paying off a doctor to perform the medical procedures? Check.
Buying a top of the line medical hospital room and round-the-clock nurses so that my sister could be treated at home when she had to be in isolation for three weeks prior to receiving my donation? Check.
Medical personnel willing to look the other way when I was too underweight to safely donate? Check.
Oh, and let’s not forget the anti-depressants that I was on. We’ll just act like we didn’t hear that you were on them.
Yeah, my parents had everything in their front pocket, and their world revolved around their daughter.
Only, that daughter wasn’t me.
17 years old
Being back in the United States felt weird.
Going to school felt even weirder.
I had exactly seven months left until I graduated. Until I turned eighteen.
Until I could run and never look back.
I knew I’d be found, but I would find a way.
Anything was possible.
“Do not eat that,” my mother chided.
I ate the piece of candy and glared at her for good measure.
My mother narrowed her eyes, and I knew that it didn’t matter how much I rebelled. She’d find a way to repay me.
And she did hours later by locking me in my bedroom and telling me to think about why I was being treated like a child.
18 years old
I walked across the stage with tears streaming down my cheeks.
I was free.
So freakin’ free.
I had a bus ticket in my pocket.
I had eighty dollars cash that I’d stolen out of my father’s wallet.
I had my diploma.
I was ready to run, and I was never looking back.
I only wished that my problems didn’t have a way of catching up to me.
Before you do anything stupid this weekend, just remember it’s a three-day weekend and the judge won’t be in until Tuesday. Just sayin’.
-Wade’s secret thoughts
Five years ago
I saw her enter the classroom from across the room.
She was wearing tight blue jeans, a white t-shirt that fit her so tight I could make out every single curve, and a pair of white flip-flops that showed off her cute pink toenails.
I was teaching a criminal justice class for a friend, and I’d never been more excited than I was right then to tell my fellow cop and MC brother no, I wouldn’t be taking over the class for him.
Why you ask?
Because I knew that girl was about to be mine.
The moment we were out of this classroom, I was going to ask her out on a date, and I couldn’t do that if I was her teacher for the semester. The instant I saw those beautiful brown eyes of hers lift and take me in, I knew that I was lost.
So. Fucking. Lost.
And then there was the fact that she’d expressly violated the dress code for the class. Not that I wanted to object or anything, but she was supposed to be dressed in closed-toed footwear and have her hair up and away from her face.
The entire class was filled mostly with men, and honestly, I wasn’t sure that she belonged in this class at all.
I wasn’t sure why she was there, but I wasn’t going to complain.
Then again, I could likely teach the class seeing as she would probably stay in here for one class and one class only once she found out what it was about.
My watch beeped, signaling that it was eight exactly, and I stood up and walked to the door, shutting and locking it.
I hated latecomers, and if anyone came to the door after I’d closed it, well, they’d be making a spectacle of themselves.
I made sure to pass directly in front of the desk that the girl—woman—had taken near the middle of the room, and nearly groaned when I smelled peaches.
I felt things inside of me start to tighten, and I was thankful that there was a podium at the front of the room to conceal my dick since I could already feel it getting hard.
Once I was in place, I pulled out the class roster and started to read off last names.
When I got to Hill, the woman’s soft voice answered my harsh call.
“Here,” came her lilting reply.
My eyes sliced to hers, and I saw her cheeks fill with color.
Well, imagine that.
Smirking, I finished off the rest of the roster and then tossed it onto the shelf beside me before taking a look around the room.