Free Craving Shannon by E. D. Brady Page A

sheepishly, her lip trembling.
    Chad pushed past her into the apartment and stopped short, horrified by the scene in front of him. “Dear God, it’s a fucking crack den,” he said in a weak voice.
    Shannon let one fat tear escape. “It’s all I can afford,” she said, wiping her eye.
    He turned on his heels and faced her. “Pack your stuff. You’re leaving here,” he barked out. “This is absolutely no place for a young lady.”
    She took one look at his face and walked across the floor.  She pulled over a small duffle bag and picked a handful of discarded t-shirts off the floor.  She threw the t-shirts into the bag then swung it over her shoulder. She walked back over to Chad and stood before him, totally deflated.
    “I said to pack all your stuff,” he stated, fury rolling off him.
    “This is everything I own,” she admitted.
    Chad nodded. “Let’s go.”
    He didn’t say one word to her all the way back downtown to Tribeca. He stared out of the window, biting the pad of his thumb, wondering what kind of trouble she was in, but more than that, he wondered why it affected him so badly.
    When the cab reached the front of Chad’s building, he handed over the other five, one hundred dollar bills and exited the cab, saying nothing. He opened the lobby door, gestured for Shannon to enter, and pulled the bag off her shoulder.
    Once inside his apartment, Chad gestured to the bedroom on the right. “My guest room is that way. Please make yourself at home,” he said.
    “Chad, can I say something?” Shannon asked nervously.
    Chad shook his head. “I’m tired, Shannon. Go get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Chapter 8
     
     
     
     
    Shannon puffed out a large breath and turned on her heels to walk toward the bedroom that Chad had pointed out to her. She opened the door and let her hand roam around the wall until she found the light switch. Turning on the light, she looked into a pretty black and white room. The walls and carpet were white, the furniture black and the bedding a swirly pattern of black and white. The only other color in the room where tiny specks of red thrown in haphazardly—a cluster of red candles on the black dresser, a small red throw pillow on the bed, red ties holding back black and white curtains, and several canvases of black, white and red abstract artwork on the walls.
    Despite the uneasy feeling inside, Shannon breathed a sigh of relief. The room was clean, warm and completely safe.
    She pulled a hair tie off her wrist and scooped her hair back into a ponytail. She opened her duffle bag and rooted around for her oversized t-shirt. Stripping off her jeans and sweater, she pulled the large t-shirt over her head and climbed under the clean, thick covers.
    The bed spun initially, no doubt from the effects of three glasses of wine and three beers. She thought she might be sick, but then seemed to grow accustomed to the movement because before long, she was more concern with Chad’s strange mood than with her own motion sickness. She couldn’t begin to figure out what had gotten into him. He was always so sweet and kind, but since he suggested driving her home, his mood seemed to take a turn for the worst, like he was extremely pissed off at her for something.
    She cringed at the memory of the look on his face when he glared into her disgusting apartment. She died a little inside at that moment. As thankful as she was to be in his warm, safe home it hurt to have Chad know exactly what kind of girl she was and what she’d come from.
    She blurted out a tiny, sarcastic chuckle. What did she think would happen anyway? After one fun day together, did she really think he’d want to date her? In spite of her silly little crush, she knew Chad saw her as nothing more than a friend, something more along the lines of a kid sister maybe. She was only nineteen after all. If she was lucky enough to ever have a boyfriend like Chad, it would be years into the future. As of now, she was