Dirty Little Secret (Dirty #1) Read Free Page A

 
    “It’s not sad in the way you’re implying.” Her patience, always in short supply, was growing even thinner. “It’s sad that I had to order that DNA test to prove something we already knew.”
    “You ordered it?”
    “Yes. The lawyers wanted some concrete evidence before they handed over the insurance check owed to you on your twenty-first birthday. I gave them a sample, they tested it, it was positive. You’ll see an increase in your bank statement over the next week.”
    I opened my mouth.  I don’t know what I was going to ask, or say.  How much of an increaser?  I don’t want it, send it back.  Or maybe just…What that hell?!  But she cut me off with a cool smile.
    “Let’s move on, shall we? The eggs are getting cold and you have an exam.”
    That was it.  No screaming, no crying, no shaming.  Don’t tell your brother (uncle) or your sister’s (other) kids because it w ill be upsetting for everyone.
    I should’ve flipped out.  I should’ve asked questions, demanded answers, done…Something.  Instead, I passed the sugar and bit into my rubbery eggs.
    Because I was the good girl, the one who did as I was told, without question.  And the tiny matter of who was my mom and who wasn’t…It wasn’t going to change that.  Nothing was going to change that.
    Until the chai.  And of course, the truck.

CUTTER
     
    Time to insert the very skinny piece of meat into the shit sandwich.
    Friday.
    It was a bonus day.  One that let me have both the day off work, and also off my otherwise housebound life to pursue something I actually cared about.
    Which meant I was nervous as hell.
    I should spend more time talking about this.  About the meat.  About walking in to the college I’d once attended, and handing over the work sample, and watching as the Dean of Some-Important-Shit paused, gave me a solid once over , then stuck out his hand, and said, “Sold.”
    After all, I’d finally accomplished something worthwhile.  In three weeks, they’d be cutting me a check for five grand.  I had the five hundred dollar deposit in my greedy fist, right then.  That was nothing to shake a stick at.  The best news about it?  I’d done it all on my fucking own.  In my own fucking way, too. 
    So I should’ve been in a good mood, and stayed that way, celebrating the fact that I wasn’t a self-fulfilling prophecy after all.  Giving myself a hundred mental high-fives. 
    Unfortunately, that was what I was doing as I walked out of the dean’s office. 
    Maybe if I’d been my normal, tinged-with-bitterness self, things would’ve been fine.  Nope.  I had to be a cheery-ass motherfucker.  Grinning and sipping on the spiced tea the dean’s secretary had popped into a to-go cup and insisted I take with me, while struggling to not drop my work samples.
    Which is why by the time I spotted the blonde, it was too late.  I crashed into her and her holier-than-thou self.
    Yes, I made that judgment about her before she even spoke, and I’m not even ashamed of it.
    Everything in my arms went flying, and so did I, and I caught a glimpse of her as my legs kicked out in front of me.
    This is what she looked like on the outside.  Sunshine and spring .  Glossy, hair-commercial locks, slicked back into a perfect ponytail.  Wide, blue eyes that brought to mind gingham and clear sky.  Red cheeks and a horrified expression on her face as barely-warm tea splashed over her enticingly ample chest.
    Yes, she was fucking beautiful.
    When my gaze sought hers, though, it was like I wasn’t even there.  Like I was dirt on the floor instead of a human being.  She just stared down at her pink, fuzzy sweater with her pink-frosted lips turned down.
    I opened my mouth, not to apologize, but to tell her what she could do with that stupid-ass sweater.  She beat me to it.
    “My sweater! It’s garbage.”
    “Yep.” I smirked.
    She didn’t notice.  In fact, she answered me as if I had apologized.
    “It’s okay,” she