Confronted (Beauty And The Billionaire Geek Book 1) by E.E. Griffin Read Free Book Online Page A

the vibrant neighborhood. I liked the environment inside the restaurant. Even though it hadn’t been my first choice, I loved getting back to work and feeling useful again.
    After work, I lingered around on Market Street until I knew Stacy would be home from the gym. When I finally went home, I found Max, Justin, and Stacy hanging out in the kitchen around a box of pizza. I slid into a chair next to Stacy and took a piece.
    Everyone seemed happier without Chris around, even Max. He looked like a normal kid again, instead of a sociopath’s sidekick. Chewing on my pizza, I listened to Stacy flirt with Justin. She was seriously a world-class flirt. If there were a competition for flirting, she would be the champion.
    Usually, it got on my nerves, but tonight, it made everything feel normal again. I wondered why Chris wasn’t there, but didn’t ask. I didn’t want to jinx it or break the magical spell, or whatever was happening tonight. 
    After a few beers, we all went off to our own rooms. I felt so good I forgot to lock my door.

Chapter Six: William
    Going home usually did not go well. If I had been able to shake my loyalty to my parents, I would never visit them. They had proved over and over again that they were degenerates who were not worth my time or energy. Yet I continued to go back.
    Sitting at the filthy laminate table in my parent’s trailer in Lynnwood, the rancid smell liquor and cigarettes stung my nose.
    They fought in the living room about something incoherent. It felt as if I were still a child, cowered in the kitchen, the loud shrieking of their voices making me turn into myself.
    My scooter sat parked in the driveway, just outside the front door. All I had to do was walk through the living room, out the front door, put on my helmet, turn the key, and drive away. But I was frozen. I knew exactly what moves to make but couldn’t make a single one.
    The sound of glass breaking made me jump and cover my ears. At twenty-two years old, I shouldn’t still be affected like this. I told myself to stop being so weak as I forced my elbows into the table, my hands firmly pressed over my ears.
    “Get up and leave on the count of ten,” I told myself. “You are a grown man; they can’t send you to bed without supper or spank you. Just leave.”
    One, two, three. Screaming from the living room. Four, five, six. The sound of glass breaking. When I reached ten, I stood, my heart pounding, and strode wordlessly through the house to the front door. They continued fighting behind me as I slid through and out into the night.
    They didn’t seem to notice me. It stung. Yes, it stung. I came to see them every month out of some ridiculous ritualized loyalty, and they couldn’t even bother to stop fighting long enough to say goodbye.
    I pulled my helmet on my head, and slung my leg over my Vespa. My mother swung the front door open, her mouth gaping. Her loose housedress billowed in the soft coastal wind.
    “Billy, get back in here! We haven’t had supper yet!”
    “I’ve got to go, Ma. I have to study.” I turned the motor and maneuvered the scooter into the trailer park street. I did have to study, or rather, prepare. Taking summer courses would allow me to finish my Master’s degree next semester. I would already be done if the need for money weren’t an ever-present burden. I heard her call me as I drove away.
    Driving a scooter all the way from Lynwood to Seattle had never been a simple endeavor. If I took the highway, I would be bombarded by fast moving cars along the fifteen-mile route. If I took the street, it took twice as long, with all the stoplights.
    Since I felt less keen on being pushed off the highway by a semi’s slipstream, I chose the street. As I drove, I made a firm decision to stop visiting my parents. Maybe someday, I’d be able to help them out of their pit, but right now, they were just dragging me down with them.
    When I got home, my housemates were all sitting around the dining room