The Cripple's Wanton Wife - Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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Lawrence blinked back hot tears as she counted the crumpled bills in her hands for the third time. Still short. Tomorrow was her little boy's first day of school, and she couldn't scrape together the $500 tuition.
At thirty-five, carried the weight of her family alone. Her husband Daniel lay bedridden, his leg injury leaving him unable to work. Her factory paycheck—barely a thousand dollars a month—disappeared faster than she could earn it between Daniel's medical bills and the mountain of IOUs they owed half their neighborhood.
She'd swallowed her pride and asked every coworker for help. Not a single loan came through. Just as despair threatened to drown her, she caught the factory manager watching her from his usual corner.
Roland Blanchet. Even the name made her skin prickle. The sixty-something lech had a reputation—several women at the plant could testify to that. He'd been circling for months with his greasy compliments and "accidental" touches.
But with her son's future hanging in the balance...
After her shift, changed out of her grease-stained uniform and knocked on Roland's office door.
"Well, well." Roland's yellowed teeth appeared in a grin as he looked up from his paperwork. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The balding creep had been drooling over her since day one—her fair skin, her curves that even baggy coveralls couldn't hide. He'd tried every trick to get her alone. Now here she was, walking right into his lair.
kept her eyes on the stained carpet. "Mr. Blanchet, I... I need an advance. Five hundred against next month's check."
His piggish eyes traveled down her body. "That so? What's the emergency?"
"My son's school tuition." Her voice barely carried.
Roland leaned back, fingers steepled. "I could make that happen." His gaze lingered on her chest. "For a little... consideration."
's stomach twisted. "What kind of consideration?"
"Let me get acquainted with what's under that sweater." No pretense now—just hunger in his beady eyes.
The blood drained from 's face. Daniel's injury had left their marriage bed cold, but she'd never—
"Make it a thousand," Roland pressed. "Cash. No payroll deduction."
A thousand dollars. A full month's wages. Her son's entire school year secured.
Her fingers trembled. It wasn't full betrayal—just his filthy hands on her. She could shower afterward, scrub away the memory.
"For my boy," she whispered, avoiding Roland's triumphant leer. "Once. That's all."
The old man practically salivated as he lunged from his chair. "That's my girl. Now let's lose these clothes—"
recoiled as his sausage fingers grabbed at her buttons. "I-I'll do it."
At thirty-five, carried the weight of her family alone. Her husband Daniel lay bedridden, his leg injury leaving him unable to work. Her factory paycheck—barely a thousand dollars a month—disappeared faster than she could earn it between Daniel's medical bills and the mountain of IOUs they owed half their neighborhood.
She'd swallowed her pride and asked every coworker for help. Not a single loan came through. Just as despair threatened to drown her, she caught the factory manager watching her from his usual corner.
Roland Blanchet. Even the name made her skin prickle. The sixty-something lech had a reputation—several women at the plant could testify to that. He'd been circling for months with his greasy compliments and "accidental" touches.
But with her son's future hanging in the balance...
After her shift, changed out of her grease-stained uniform and knocked on Roland's office door.
"Well, well." Roland's yellowed teeth appeared in a grin as he looked up from his paperwork. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The balding creep had been drooling over her since day one—her fair skin, her curves that even baggy coveralls couldn't hide. He'd tried every trick to get her alone. Now here she was, walking right into his lair.
kept her eyes on the stained carpet. "Mr. Blanchet, I... I need an advance. Five hundred against next month's check."
His piggish eyes traveled down her body. "That so? What's the emergency?"
"My son's school tuition." Her voice barely carried.
Roland leaned back, fingers steepled. "I could make that happen." His gaze lingered on her chest. "For a little... consideration."
's stomach twisted. "What kind of consideration?"
"Let me get acquainted with what's under that sweater." No pretense now—just hunger in his beady eyes.
The blood drained from 's face. Daniel's injury had left their marriage bed cold, but she'd never—
"Make it a thousand," Roland pressed. "Cash. No payroll deduction."
A thousand dollars. A full month's wages. Her son's entire school year secured.
Her fingers trembled. It wasn't full betrayal—just his filthy hands on her. She could shower afterward, scrub away the memory.
"For my boy," she whispered, avoiding Roland's triumphant leer. "Once. That's all."
The old man practically salivated as he lunged from his chair. "That's my girl. Now let's lose these clothes—"
recoiled as his sausage fingers grabbed at her buttons. "I-I'll do it."
End of The Cripple's Wanton Wife Chapter 1. Continue reading Chapter 2 or return to The Cripple's Wanton Wife book page.