They All 'Died' for Her? With Terminal Cancer, I'm Done Playing their Games - Chapter 66: Chapter 66
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The bar manager took pity on me. Didn't make me actually lick customers' shoes.
Just tossed me a rag and made me crawl around shining their kicks.
Drunk assholes threw insults at me. Some dickhead even ground his heel into my face. But I stayed stone-cold calm and polished those shoes till they gleamed.
A bunch of trust fund brats were scrolling their phones, cracking up:
"Dude, no way! Cross posted a hundred mil bounty for a heart donor?! He's totally pussy-whipped!"
"Bro, when they told his girl she had heart disease this afternoon, Cross went absolutely nuclear. Nearly trashed the whole hospital. Had those doctors shitting bricks."
"A hundred million though? That's insane cash for some side piece! If she dies, whatever."
"Nah man, you don't get it. Vivian Hayes isn't just anyone. Word is she's a dead ringer for his wife back in college..."
I stopped dead. Stared at their phone screen.
The headline was crystal clear: $100 MILLION REWARD - Heart Donor Needed for Vivian Hayes.
And guess what? My blood type and medical profile matched Vivian's to a T. Damien had already dragged me in and bled me dry because of it.
The phone screen lit up my face. The trust fund brat stared at me, then burst out laughing:
"Well, well! If it isn't Mrs. Cross! Shouldn't you be babysitting your husband's new toy? What're you doing down here polishing our shoes?"
"Hell, you should ditch that bastard and warm my bed instead. Better than being the Cross family's bitch."
His disgusting eyes crawled all over me. Several hands reached out to grope me.
I scrambled backward, gripping a beer bottle. About to bolt when three bodyguards stormed over and kicked the rich prick flying.
Ignoring his screaming and cursing, they grabbed me by the arms.
"Ma'am. Time for Miss Hayes' bath."
I went numb. Let them drag me to the car.
Outside, thunder crashed and rain pounded down. Just like the day Mom died in my arms. Ice-cold and brutal.
I pushed open the door. A pair of sticky, reeking lace panties smacked me in the face.
On the couch, Damien looked totally satisfied, holding Vivian close while lighting up a cigar:
"Look who's back. Thought you'd licked so many shoes you ended up in someone's bed."
I ignored him. Walked straight to Vivian.
"Miss Hayes. Time for your bath."
SMACK! My head snapped sideways.
Damien flicked his cigarette at my face, pissed off:
"Don't know how to show respect?"
I stumbled back, steadied myself. Swallowed the blood in my throat.
"Miss Hayes, please allow me to help you with your bath."
"Ew, no way!" Vivian snuggled into Damien's arms. "This nasty old cow will definitely hurt me on purpose. Make her wash Spike tonight instead. Good practice for her."
Spike was Vivian's pit bull terrier. The damn thing had mauled me countless times. Washing that beast was basically a death sentence.
My whole body shook. "No. I won't do it!"
"Won't do it?"
Damien stood up, grabbed my hair, yanked me close. Slapped my face like I was nothing.
"What gives you the right to refuse? Don't want mommy's life anymore?"
Just tossed me a rag and made me crawl around shining their kicks.
Drunk assholes threw insults at me. Some dickhead even ground his heel into my face. But I stayed stone-cold calm and polished those shoes till they gleamed.
A bunch of trust fund brats were scrolling their phones, cracking up:
"Dude, no way! Cross posted a hundred mil bounty for a heart donor?! He's totally pussy-whipped!"
"Bro, when they told his girl she had heart disease this afternoon, Cross went absolutely nuclear. Nearly trashed the whole hospital. Had those doctors shitting bricks."
"A hundred million though? That's insane cash for some side piece! If she dies, whatever."
"Nah man, you don't get it. Vivian Hayes isn't just anyone. Word is she's a dead ringer for his wife back in college..."
I stopped dead. Stared at their phone screen.
The headline was crystal clear: $100 MILLION REWARD - Heart Donor Needed for Vivian Hayes.
And guess what? My blood type and medical profile matched Vivian's to a T. Damien had already dragged me in and bled me dry because of it.
The phone screen lit up my face. The trust fund brat stared at me, then burst out laughing:
"Well, well! If it isn't Mrs. Cross! Shouldn't you be babysitting your husband's new toy? What're you doing down here polishing our shoes?"
"Hell, you should ditch that bastard and warm my bed instead. Better than being the Cross family's bitch."
His disgusting eyes crawled all over me. Several hands reached out to grope me.
I scrambled backward, gripping a beer bottle. About to bolt when three bodyguards stormed over and kicked the rich prick flying.
Ignoring his screaming and cursing, they grabbed me by the arms.
"Ma'am. Time for Miss Hayes' bath."
I went numb. Let them drag me to the car.
Outside, thunder crashed and rain pounded down. Just like the day Mom died in my arms. Ice-cold and brutal.
I pushed open the door. A pair of sticky, reeking lace panties smacked me in the face.
On the couch, Damien looked totally satisfied, holding Vivian close while lighting up a cigar:
"Look who's back. Thought you'd licked so many shoes you ended up in someone's bed."
I ignored him. Walked straight to Vivian.
"Miss Hayes. Time for your bath."
SMACK! My head snapped sideways.
Damien flicked his cigarette at my face, pissed off:
"Don't know how to show respect?"
I stumbled back, steadied myself. Swallowed the blood in my throat.
"Miss Hayes, please allow me to help you with your bath."
"Ew, no way!" Vivian snuggled into Damien's arms. "This nasty old cow will definitely hurt me on purpose. Make her wash Spike tonight instead. Good practice for her."
Spike was Vivian's pit bull terrier. The damn thing had mauled me countless times. Washing that beast was basically a death sentence.
My whole body shook. "No. I won't do it!"
"Won't do it?"
Damien stood up, grabbed my hair, yanked me close. Slapped my face like I was nothing.
"What gives you the right to refuse? Don't want mommy's life anymore?"
End of They All 'Died' for Her? With Terminal Cancer, I'm Done Playing their Games Chapter 66. Continue reading Chapter 67 or return to They All 'Died' for Her? With Terminal Cancer, I'm Done Playing their Games book page.