His Number

Chapter Twelve- IOUs

                “Done.” I said, my voice the same tone. “As usual.”

                “Good.” He said, a sadistic smile showing through his words. “Good boy.”

                Gritting my teeth at his condescending tone, I waited until he ended the call before setting my phone onto a table, just so I didn’t have the urge to throw it across the room. And then I punched the wall.

                I punched the cream colored wall with an impact that made the books in my room shudder in its place. I imagined that wall as Weston’s face.

                “Mr. Johnson? Is everything all right?” A plump maid asked, opening my door. I nodded, a silent dismissal in the air. Once she left, I stared at my hand; the hand I punched the wall with.

                Soon, Weston Black. I thought, stretching the hand and taking in its now red knuckles. Soon, you will pay for everything. I looked at a treasured picture on my nightstand. A picture of Faith.

                I’ll make sure of it.

******~~~******

Charlotte Everley

                “You want me to babysit you’re baby sister?”

                “Please?”

                “Why?” I asked, simply curious as I paced about in my room.

                He paused. “Last notice thing with a friend. No biggie.” I furrowed my eyebrows. Okay then?

                “And you’re the only one I can trust to babysit her.” I let out a small laugh.

                “You’ve only known me for a day, Cole. We met four days ago.” He laughed too.

                “True.” He said, amusement in his tone. “But I have a feeling that you’re great with kids.” My thoughts flashed back to Michael.

                “But didn’t you say that your sister was one?” I asked, a smile growing onto my face from the thought of the Orphanage, mentally noting to visit them soon. He groaned.

                “Please.” He breathed out. “Please just do me this little favor.” His pleading voice made me laugh.

                “Where are your parents?” He groaned again.

                “Don’t even get me started on them.” He started. “Ever since I moved out they’ve been all up my jock about keeping her for at least one week each month.”

                “Ah.” I said, my voice amused. “I seeee.” And for a moment, neither of us said anything. I felt myself caving in to his plea.

                “You owe me.”

                “Yes!” He exclaimed. “Yes, yes, yes!” I chuckled. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I owe you big time, for sure! Dinner—on me!” And with that, I heard the click of a phone call ending. 

                Dropping my phone from my ear, I looked at it for a second. Then I laughed and unlocked my phone, texting him.

Address?–Charlotte