Free Betrayed by Marisa Michaels Page B

stupid? I told you we couldn’t afford it! I told you I didn’t need a car!” she screamed.
    “ Are you kidding me? That’s all you talked about! You told me if I insisted then you would accept it! You didn’t put up much of a fight not to get it!”
    “Oh, this is my fault now? You, bastard, you lied to me! You kept it from me for ten months!”
    After a fifteen minute screaming match - which involved a lot more than the current issue -died out in exhaustion, the couple sat beside each other, lost in thoughts. The room was a mess with broken shards of glass on the floor, and the bedspread spread half on the table and half on the ground. In the middle of their quarrel, they had gotten into their nightwear - obviously in no mood for sex anymore.
    “I’ll ask my boss for the Christmas bonus first thing tomorrow and . . .”
    “I need to pay them back by midnight ,” Rick interrupted, and Tracy gave him a murderous stare. “I doubt your $2000 Christmas bonus would do any good”, he said sarcastically.
    “Did you ask Steven? I’m sure he’ll be able to help you.”
    “Steven is out of town for a case.”
    “Why don’t you give him a call?”
    “The last time I talked to him, he told me his phone is being tapped. So I don’t want to risk it. He is a lawyer, it may affect him professionally.”
    “Alright, never mind.”
    After a couple of hours of hopeless thoughts, Tracy managed to convince Rick to ask his father since they had absolutely no other choice. They had less than a couple of hours left. After a quick cup of coffee, Rick left the apartment. After he had left, Tracy hopped in her red Mercedes. She wiped away the snow from the windshield and got inside the driver’s seat. Starting up the car, she made a quick reverse from the driveway and just avoided colliding with an SUV that came speeding down the road. It was going to be a long drive, and she hardly had the energy to honk or swear at the reckless driver.
    ***
    After a twenty minute drive, Rick found himself standing outside his childhood home. Sixteen years of his life was spent in that red brick house which held memories, love and pain. He peeped into the mailbox and picked up two letters and walked to the door. He rang the familiar bell and waited for his father, Peter, to open the door. He looked at the two envelopes and recognized them as bills. Already hopeless, he clutched them tight in his hand. The door opened and a large, pot-bellied man stood grinning at the sight of his son.
    “This is a pre-Christmas surprise! Come on in, son. Isn’t Tracy with you? Ah, thank you for getting them ,” he said as Rick handed the mail to him and stepped inside the door, removing his coat and shoes.
    “Hello, Dad. No she had something come up. How are you?” he asked, looking around at the state of the house. Unwashed dishes to the brim of the sink, an overloaded trashcan, and clothes on the table and on the couch. A typewriter stood in the front of the side table with sheets of paper by its side.
    “I’ve been good. Yes, I guess I do need to get the mess cleaned up, huh?” he said following Rick’s eyes.
    “I think so, Dad. Where is Mrs. Cooper? Shouldn’t she be coming every week for housekeeping?”
    “Her husband is sick so she had to take a month off. Don’t worry I’ll ask one of our neighbor’s housekeeper,” Peter said and sat down on the couch, and Rick followed suit. “So, what’s going on? You look a little pale.”
    “Nah, I’m fine. How’s the book going? Did you talk to a publisher yet?” asked Rick, unable to get to the point. He looked at his watch; it was quarter past eleven.
    “I’m going to meet one tomorrow but I still a have a lot to write. Don’t change the subject; I’m sure something is bothering you. Tell me,” he coaxed.
    It took Rick ten minutes to properly explain the situation through his ram bling. By the end of it, Peter had patted his shoulder in understanding. He got up and walked into the