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Thank you!
Hello my dearest readers!
Phew. Another one done and dusted. Finally!
This is the time where I thank all of you for sticking around to read this epic tale. I did not intend for it to be this long, but Troy and Quinn had quite the story to tell.
Thank you, as always, for the comments, the reviews, the gems, the encouragement and love you've shown me along the way. I truly appreciate you so much, and your support is why I keep on writing even when I sometimes feel like saying, "fuck it all," before I go back to bed. I could not do this without you, I truly mean that.
There will be more stories soon. So if you feel like it, stick around for the next one. I'd love to take you along for the ride.
Much love,
Celice
Related chapters
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 1
QuinnThe heavens opened and rain poured down on the city, washing the filth in the streets away, and soaking me down to the bone within minutes.The hot asphalt rapidly cooled down and steam rose up from the black top, making the air thick and heavy until it felt like I was trying to breathe under water.I barely paid attention to any of the people rushing past me, looking for cover.I needed to get to the shelter. Fast. When it rained, the beds filled up quickly, and they operated on a first come, first serve basis. There were other shelters in the city, but I preferred the woman’s only one – I felt safer there – and I never strayed too far from it.The first time I had to go to a homeless shelter, I didn’t know what I was doing and ended up in a co-ed shelter where men and women slept in the same rooms without any supervisors to make sure the women wouldn’t be molested during the night.I woke up with a filthy old man on top of me, running his slimy tongue up the side of my face wh
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 2
QuinnI had one last question for Caroline before we left the warmth and comfort of the coffee shop. “Why are you doing this? You can’t stand me.”“Tsk, Quinn,” she clucked her tongue at me. “We were stupid kids. It’s in the past. I'm trying to be a better person. We all need a helping hand from time to time. There is no shame in it.” For once, Caroline looked and sounded sincere,I was a downright idiot for believing her.Caroline took me to a part of the city I had never seen before. I didn’t ever dare come this way. The women at the shelter always talked about it and warned others to avoid uptown. It was for the filthy rich, and we were not welcome here. They didn’t want their perfect little illusions shattered by the image of dirty, homeless people littering their streets.Not that I blamed them. I used to be one of them, and I was fairly certain I once held the same view of the world these people held.Caroline drove around the back of what she called, ‘Club Ninety-Nine’ but it l
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 3
Quinn The room Caroline took me to was a lot cleaner than the one we left behind. Other, half-naked women, were already here, bustling around, getting ready for the auction. They were all quiet, and they all had the same dead look of defeat in their eyes. Caroline showed me to an unoccupied chair and ordered me to leave my ratty old backpack on it before she took me to the bathroom. At least it was clean and it smelled good, unlike the showers at the shelter that always smelled of cheap soap and mildew. She handed me a toiletry bag, a single pair of black panties, a towel and a new razor. “Shave yourself,” she said. “Everything, including your cunt.” The kind, soft-spoken young woman from the coffee shop was gone, replaced by a harsh, vulgar one. Her eyes were cold and cruel. This was almost better – at least I knew and understood this Caroline. I could kick myself for trusting her. I should have known that she didn’t give a shit about me, but I wanted to believe her, and I foole
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 4
TroyThe girl hung hot and heavy against my back, but I could feel her bony ribs and hips sticking sharply into my chest.I shifted my hands a little higher so I wouldn’t touch her bare skin, but it didn't help much. I was still very aware of the sparks that crackled and popped between us. It drove me absolutely bat shit crazy.She didn’t put up a fight when I grabbed her, and even as I walked with her through the crowded club, she didn’t struggle against me, just quietly accepted her fate.I ignored the death glares from the men around me. I was so used to it that it didn’t even register. Club Ninety-Nine was neutral ground. No one here was allowed to start a war or fight each other. Donovan, the co-owner, had a mantra: Leave your beef at the door.If I could, if I didn’t respect the rules put in place, I would have grabbed the girl and simply took her. She was mine, and where I came from, under our laws, I had every right to take what was mine.But this wasn’t my world. It was the h
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 5
Troy As soon as we came home, I handed Quinn off to Sebastian and Missus Lowry, my housekeeper. I went straight to bed, where I spent rest of the night rerunning the moment Gary made a grab for Quinn’s privates over and over in my head. I recalled the flicker of fear in her eyes, the deep black bruise around her left nipple, the finger marks on her cheeks, the angry purple contusions on her thighs, and the way she tried to close her legs when that scumbag went to grab her. By the time the sun came up, I was good and angry and ready to break someone’s fingers one by one until they begged me for mercy. I took a long, hot shower, ignoring my persistent wolf that kept trying to force his way to the surface so he could run off to kill Gary. It took me a long time to get control of the beast. He was borderline psychotic and bred for a single purpose – to be a killing machine in my father’s unending war against the four other Lycan kingdoms. I leaned with my forehead against the cool sho
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 6
Quinn For once, I woke in a dry, warm, soft bed with a cosy, clean pillow under my head that wasn’t crawling with lice. I snuggled deeper into the pillow, trying to remember the last few hours as best as I could. Troy disappeared the moment we walked into his massive, three-storey mansion. I hadn’t seen or heard anything from him since. Sebastian brought me up to this bedroom. It had an empty wardrobe and an empty dresser, but the bed was beautiful, modern, and made up with pretty white and blue linens. There was a single piece of modern art against the wall, and the gleaming hardwood floor was broken up by a large, light blue area rug. The bathroom was bigger than the one I had when I still lived at home. Everything inside was clean and smelled glorious. The counters were dark granite, off-set by large white tiles and black cabinets. There were large, deliciously clean and fluffy towels, and the floor was comfortably warm under my feet. Everything I needed was already in the bath
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 7
Quinn Walking down the three flights of stairs to the lobby was a challenge. I tightly held on to the railing as I carefully made my way down the wide staircase. I always found going down more difficult than going up. The mansion was magnificent. Instead of displaying his wealth in the form of expensive art, glittery chandeliers, and gaudy statues, Troy decided to fill the space with beautiful, healthy plants and water features. There was no clutter, no extra furniture where they weren’t needed, and only a few pieces of exquisite, tasteful oil paintings, breaking up the bare, sparkling white walls. The whole place screamed of understated wealth. The dark, granite floors were comfortably cool under my bare feet, and the place was absolutely spotless. There wasn’t a single speck of dust or cobweb in sight. We had a full staff at my childhood home, working around the clock to keep the place in order, and we’d still come across dust, dirty floors and cobwebs. It was nearly impossible
Maybe Wrong, Maybe Right Chapter 8
Troy Doctor Jacobs knocked and entered my office upon my command. He put his heavy black bag on the floor and sat down without waiting for an invitation. “Do you want a drink?” I asked. “Just water, thank you, I have more patients to see.” I pushed away from my desk, and went to the small bar fridge to get the doctor his water before I walked around it to perch on the edge of my table as I always do when someone I know and trust is in my office. “How is she?” “She’s malnourished and dehydrated, but in good health, all things considered.” He spent nearly an hour with Quinn, and I wasn't satistifed with his answer. “What about her foot? Is there something you can do?” The doctor woefully shook his head. “I can’t tell you. Without imaging, an MRI would be best, I can’t tell how extensive the damage is.” "When do you need her to go?" "She declined further medical attention." I snorted loudly. “When do you need her to go?" I repeated the question. "We can fit her in next week, but
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