Give Me Reason (The Reason Series) Read Online Free Page A
Author: Zoey Derrick
almost like they're stained with nicotine. Judging from the smell, that’s probably exactly what it is. The garbage that lines the baseboards of the entrance and the stairs is disgusting, but tonight I don't have the energy to care.
I shuffle up the stairs to the third floor. When I reach my door, I unlock the two deadbolts, turn the handle and slip into my apartment. I shut the door with my butt and lean back against it.
There is always a sigh of relief when I get home, knowing that I made it safely yet again. I've been harassed more than a few times on the streets and the bus, even in the less than twenty-five feet between the bus stop and the door.
I lock the two deadbolts and the knob and slide the chain. To be honest the door is so flimsy that someone could easily just kick it in, but the locks help me feel a little bit better.
My apartment is one room, a closet, and a bathroom. The kitchen consists of a small oven with a two-burner cook top, a half-size refrigerator, a small counter and sink. A few cupboards lie as empty and as useless as the fridge.
I head to the sink, grab a glass and fill it with water. I swallow it down quickly and refill it. As I drink half of the new glass, I unbutton my uniform with my other hand. When I reach the apron I put the glass down.
My hands slip into the apron pockets, and I feel the wad of cash from Mikah. My heart sinks. I can't keep this. It's not mine, and I'm nobody's responsibility. I walk the two steps over to my bed and fish around for my notebook between the mattress and the pallets that raise my bed off of the floor. I tear a blank piece of paper from the notebook and throw the money, the paper, and a pen from my apron onto the counter.
Then I take off my apron, smock and shoes. Looking down at my semi-naked form, I can see that small bump rising between my hips. It looks bigger tonight, no doubt because I've actually eaten a meal. Trying hard not to dwell on my swelling abdomen and the reasons for my current state of affairs, I shed my bra and panties and stumble into the bathroom. When I release the bun atop my head, the thick, curly red waves fall down my back and tickle my hips.
I turn the water on to the hottest setting possible, hoping like hell that there is some hot water left in the tanks downstairs. After a couple of minutes the water is lukewarm at best. I climb in, praying that it lasts for at least a few minutes before turning ice cold.
It doesn’t. I don't waste time and I'm in and out quickly. Shivering, I towel off, turn up the heat a bit and grab my cotton pajama bottoms and a t-shirt full of tiny holes. I pull on the clothes and wrap my hair in the towel. A few more minutes of chattering teeth before I hear the heater kick on. At least that works in this damn place.
I need to write Mr. Blake a note, but it can wait until morning. The shower and shivering have drained me, and I can't stay awake any longer. I don't have to be to work until four tomorrow, so I'll have plenty of time to write the note before heading out.
I climb into bed and shiver again as the cool sheets touch my skin. Pulling the blankets up to my chin, I try and settle into the lumpy, uneven mattress as best I can.
As I close my eyes, the last image my brain conjures up is an image of Mikah bent over me as I woke up from my fainting incident.
FIVE
"No! Stop!"
"I could kill you, bitch! What the fuck? You're such a whore." Smack across the face. He grabs my arms and shakes me. "You little fucking whore. I knew you would do this. I knew you were a no-good bitch." He pushes me away, hard, and I slam into the wall. As I fall to the floor all I can feel is the crack against my skull and...
My eyes fly open. I'm covered in sweat and the blankets are all twisted around my legs. I stare up at the dingy ceiling. Light streams in through the small window by the kitchen. Blinking back tears, I attempt to calm myself down by rubbing absently at my tummy with
I shuffle up the stairs to the third floor. When I reach my door, I unlock the two deadbolts, turn the handle and slip into my apartment. I shut the door with my butt and lean back against it.
There is always a sigh of relief when I get home, knowing that I made it safely yet again. I've been harassed more than a few times on the streets and the bus, even in the less than twenty-five feet between the bus stop and the door.
I lock the two deadbolts and the knob and slide the chain. To be honest the door is so flimsy that someone could easily just kick it in, but the locks help me feel a little bit better.
My apartment is one room, a closet, and a bathroom. The kitchen consists of a small oven with a two-burner cook top, a half-size refrigerator, a small counter and sink. A few cupboards lie as empty and as useless as the fridge.
I head to the sink, grab a glass and fill it with water. I swallow it down quickly and refill it. As I drink half of the new glass, I unbutton my uniform with my other hand. When I reach the apron I put the glass down.
My hands slip into the apron pockets, and I feel the wad of cash from Mikah. My heart sinks. I can't keep this. It's not mine, and I'm nobody's responsibility. I walk the two steps over to my bed and fish around for my notebook between the mattress and the pallets that raise my bed off of the floor. I tear a blank piece of paper from the notebook and throw the money, the paper, and a pen from my apron onto the counter.
Then I take off my apron, smock and shoes. Looking down at my semi-naked form, I can see that small bump rising between my hips. It looks bigger tonight, no doubt because I've actually eaten a meal. Trying hard not to dwell on my swelling abdomen and the reasons for my current state of affairs, I shed my bra and panties and stumble into the bathroom. When I release the bun atop my head, the thick, curly red waves fall down my back and tickle my hips.
I turn the water on to the hottest setting possible, hoping like hell that there is some hot water left in the tanks downstairs. After a couple of minutes the water is lukewarm at best. I climb in, praying that it lasts for at least a few minutes before turning ice cold.
It doesn’t. I don't waste time and I'm in and out quickly. Shivering, I towel off, turn up the heat a bit and grab my cotton pajama bottoms and a t-shirt full of tiny holes. I pull on the clothes and wrap my hair in the towel. A few more minutes of chattering teeth before I hear the heater kick on. At least that works in this damn place.
I need to write Mr. Blake a note, but it can wait until morning. The shower and shivering have drained me, and I can't stay awake any longer. I don't have to be to work until four tomorrow, so I'll have plenty of time to write the note before heading out.
I climb into bed and shiver again as the cool sheets touch my skin. Pulling the blankets up to my chin, I try and settle into the lumpy, uneven mattress as best I can.
As I close my eyes, the last image my brain conjures up is an image of Mikah bent over me as I woke up from my fainting incident.
FIVE
"No! Stop!"
"I could kill you, bitch! What the fuck? You're such a whore." Smack across the face. He grabs my arms and shakes me. "You little fucking whore. I knew you would do this. I knew you were a no-good bitch." He pushes me away, hard, and I slam into the wall. As I fall to the floor all I can feel is the crack against my skull and...
My eyes fly open. I'm covered in sweat and the blankets are all twisted around my legs. I stare up at the dingy ceiling. Light streams in through the small window by the kitchen. Blinking back tears, I attempt to calm myself down by rubbing absently at my tummy with
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