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Black Light: Obsessed (Black Light #9)
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One taste of her was never going to be enough. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her. And I knew it from the moment she kneeled for me.
Roisin was everything I always wanted, but she was also nothing I ever expected. Her words captured me, her poise intoxicated me, and now, I find myself obsessed.
My need for her runs rife through my veins, and I can’t stop it, no matter how hard I try.
I want her.
I will claim her.
She will be mine.
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There’s a soft glow from the streetlamp, which bathes the room in silvery light.
The house is silent, filled with heavy breathing and the stale stench of alcohol and sex. Dirty, vile, and putrid. I’m never sure of who I’d find on the other side of the door, so I stay locked in my bedroom when they have parties.
The two people who are now passed out without a care in the world will soon be left to their own devices. Shoving my clothes into the suitcase, I glance around, taking in the home I’ve spent the last two years in. But there’s nothing more for me here. I waited until I was of legal age before I even thought about running. Any younger and I’d be worse off out there than I ever am in here.
Tomorrow I’ll be eighteen and they won’t want me here anymore. They’ll soon be looking for a younger, more profitable baby.
Nobody wants me.
My parents made it clear when I was born, leaving me on the steps of a church. Talk about a poster child for a clichéd life story. Taken in by the pastor and his wife, I grew up Christian, praying and taught to believe in a God that has never been there for me.
Even though they gave me a roof to live under, it was never a home. Each Sunday, I was taken to church to pray for my sins, and every week, I’d just go out and do them again.
When I turned sixteen, they sent me away. Father Paulson’s wife thought I was a devil child, so they put me in the system. No couple wants to adopt a sixteen-year-old, they want a cute baby they can coddle and coo with.
That’s when Brady and Dana walked in and saw me. A meal ticket. They weren’t parents. Far from it. They didn’t give a shit if I was out doing drugs or if I was in my bedroom with one of the boys from school. No, I was only here because the State gave them money to keep me.
All the funds that were meant to go toward my schooling, clothes, and stationery were spent on more alcohol for their friends who visited every weekend. The men who would smirk at me like I was their next meal. I figured I was safe. But that’s the first mistake I made.
Sighing, I glance in the mirror as I pull my long red waves into a messy bun. My blue eyes have lost their sparkle. All my life I’ve spent hiding because of my looks. Floppy jumpers, jeans, and trainers. A tom boy.
Everyone told me I’m pretty. A stunner. I didn’t want that. I never did because underneath it all, it’s my looks that got me in trouble. It’s those big cerulean eyes, the pouty rose-colored lips, and the fair porcelain skin that ensured my life would turn to hell.
Most people would assume it’s my adoptive father who did it.
Others would gossip that it was the priest and perhaps that’s why I got sent away.
They may have had a part to play in my broken past, but there was so much more to it than that. Until I reached sixteen, I lived in a home that was focused on religion. The man who was a Father to many, took everything from me.
When I went to my second foster home, I knew as soon as I walked into the house, it would not be any better.
School was difficult for me. I didn’t have friends. I didn’t want any. But it was then when I’d given up hope, that I thought I’d found someone who saw me for who I am. The only boy I had ever trusted. Chad Hollister.
He noticed me. He asked me out.
For six wonderful months, I was happy. He doted on me. Made sure I was smiling from ear to ear every day. I believed he really liked the broken girl he learned I was. I thought that deep down, he wanted to love me.
But life doesn’t afford girls like me a chance at love.
I’m broken into so many small pieces of myself that I know I can never be whole again.
When Chad saw me like that, he told me it’s okay. He still wanted me. Once again, I trusted someone and got burned in the process. When we walked into prom two nights ago, he had sent photos of me naked on his bed to everyone in our school.
It turns out his group of friends made a bet that no guy could last a month with me and my fucked-up family. He told me in front of everyone how he’d been the one to draw the short straw and when one month turned into two, the six guys he hung out with promised to pay for his whole summer vacation down in Florida after graduation. They laughed at his confession, jeering him on.