Twinsequences (A Twisted Twin Series) (52 page)

artists
 there.
 The
 job
 was
 great
 and
 the
 pay
 was
 pretty
 good
 too,
 but
 what
 happened
 
at
 the
 shop
 was
 not
 alright
 with
 me.
 
They
 had
 these
 little
 groupie
 chicks
 in
 there
 all
 the
 time.
 They’d
 just
 hang
 out
 
and
 drink
 with
 the
 older
 guys
 that
 worked
 there,
 including
 my
 husband.
 Of
 course,
 
he
 liked
 the
 attention,
 and
 last
 year,
 I
 found
 out
 that
 he’d
 hooked
 up
 with
 one
 of
 
them
 after
 hours.
 
It
 broke
 my
 heart.
 
 
Every
 single
 day
 I
 was
 busy
 busting
 my
 ass
 trying
 to
 help
 pay
 the
 bills
 and
 
make
 sure
 our
 children
 were
 taken
 care
 of,
 while
 he
 was
 out
 sticking
 his
 dick
 in
 
some
 little
 wall
 banger.
 It
 made
 me
 sick.
 
I
 wanted
 to
 leave
 him,
 but
 without
 my
 parents
 and
 no
 real
 friends,
 I
 looked
 at
 
my
 children
 and
 knew
 that
 they
 needed
 stability.
 It
 was
 bad
 enough
 that
 all
 of
 the
 
other
 kid’s
 parents
 talked
 behind
 our
 backs
 because
 we
 looked
 different
 than
 them.
 
Gavin
 had
 used
 my
 arm
 and
 other
 parts
 of
 my
 body
 as
 a
 human
 canvas.
 At
 first,
 all
 of
 
my
 tattoos
 were
 easily
 covered,
 but
 after
 he
 finished
 with
 my
 sleeve
 was
 when
 I
 
really
 started
 to
 hear
 the
 whispers
 and
 see
 the
 dirty
 looks.
 It
 didn’t
 matter
 that
 they
 
were
 beautiful
 flowers
 or
 my
 children’s
 names.
 I
 looked
 different
 and
 they
 hated
 me
 
for
 it.
 
 
I
 was
 never
 asked
 to
 go
 on
 field
 trips
 or
 to
 join
 the
 PTA.
 Even
 when
 I
 
volunteered
 for
 class
 parties,
 I
 was
 never
 picked.
 I
 knew
 the
 reason,
 but
 it
 not
 only
 
hurt
 my
 children,
 it
 hurt
 me
 too.
 I
 was
 a
 damn
 good
 mother;
 better
 than
 half
 of
 the
 
mother’s
 in
 my
 children’s
 classes.
 Still,
 they
 saw
 what
 they
 wanted
 in
 me
 and
 never
 
gave
 me
 a
 chance
 otherwise.
 My
 husband
 and
 I
 had
 tattoos.
 I
 had
 my
 nose
 pierced.
 
 
So
 what?
 
I
 had
 the
 same
 problem
 with
 finding
 a
 job.
 Even
 after
 taking
 a
 bunch
 of
 
college
 courses
 online
 after
 my
 first
 child
 was
 born,
 people
 just
 wouldn’t
 hire
 me
 for
 
anything
 that
 had
 to
 deal
 directly
 with
 the
 public.
 I
 ended
 up
 borrowing
 money
 from
 
my
 father
 to
 complete
 a
 bartending
 course.
 It
 worked
 out
 to
 benefit
 me
 more
 in
 the
 
long
 run.
 I
 had
 a
 great
 clientele
 and
 made
 pretty
 good
 money
 doing
 it.
 Plus,
 half
 of
 
our
 town
 ended
 up
 at
 the
 bar
 at
 night.
 
In
 the
 past
 six
 months,
 I
 hadn’t
 been
 seeing
 eye
 to
 eye
 with
 my
 husband.
 For
 
some
 reason,
 he
 wanted
 me
 home
 all
 of
 the
 time.
 I
 was
 registered
 on
 two
 pool
 
leagues
 that
 I
 shot
 on
 during
 the
 time
 I
 was
 working.
 If
 the
 league
 fell
 on
 my
 day
 off,
 
I
 would
 still
 show
 up
 to
 be
 able
 to
 socialize
 and
 not
 have
 it
 be
 part
 of
 my
 job.
 I
 didn’t
 
have
 real
 friends,
 none
 that
 I
 would
 call
 trustworthy,
 that
 is.
 
 
The
 problem
 was
 that
 I’d
 met
 them
 all
 from
 working
 in
 the
 bar.
 Getting
 to
 
know
 someone
 at
 that
 kind
 of
 place
 isn’t
 exactly
 a
 good
 thing.
 Most
 people
 that
 come
 
into
 a
 bar
 alone
 are
 there
 because
 they
 have
 problems
 that
 they
 want
 to
 drink
 away.
 
I’d
 heard
 every
 kind
 of
 story
 and
 at
 the
 end
 of
 the
 day
 my
 team
 consisted
 of
 two
 
town
 drunks,
 a
 seventy
 year
 old
 farmer
 that
 lost
 his
 wife
 to
 cancer,
 and
 three
 
brothers
 that
 were
 more
 focused
 on
 who
 could
 get
 laid
 the
 fastest
 each
 week.
 
 
My
 husband,
 who
 I
 had
 been
 in
 love
 with
 since
 puberty,
 didn’t
 understand
 
why
 I
 needed
 a
 social
 life
 outside
 of
 work.
 He
 felt
 that
 my
 line
 of
 work
 was
 the
 only
 
socializing
 I
 would
 ever
 need.
 In
 fact,
 he
 said
 my
 real
 job
 was
 maintaining
 the
 town
 
gossip
 and
 learning
 everyone’s
 dirty
 secrets.
 
I
 don’t
 know
 why
 he
 complained.
 I
 contributed
 to
 our
 family
 and
 managed
 to
 
make
 things
 work.
 At
 the
 end
 of
 the
 day,
 I
 loved
 them
 and
 would
 do
 anything
 to
 
make
 sure
 they
 never
 had
 to
 need
 for
 anything.
 
It
 wasn’t
 until
 this
 past
 winter
 when
 things
 started
 to
 really
 fall
 apart.
 I’d
 
noticed
 Gavin
 was
 being
 distant.
 He
 would
 come
 home
 all
 giddy
 and
 want
 to
 spend
 
time
 with
 the
 kids,
 more
 than
 usual.
 I
 thought
 maybe
 he
 just
 wanted
 to
 be
 a
 better
 
father
 at
 first.
 I
 didn’t
 mind
 that
 he
 was
 ignoring
 me
 for
 the
 kids.
 They
 were
 the
 most
 
important
 anyway.
 
As
 the
 winter
 months
 passed,
 we
 communicated
 less.
 One
 night,
 I
 sat
 him
 
down
 and
 told
 him
 how
 I
 felt.
 He
 blamed
 it
 all
 on
 me
 and
 my
 guilty
 conscious,
 
claiming
 that
 I
 wasn’t
 going
 to
 let
 his
 one
 indiscretion
 go.
 
 
I
 wanted
 to
 forget,
 but
 I
 also
 wanted
 to
 believe
 that
 I
 was
 still
 a
 desirable
 
woman.
 I
 had
 needs
 and
 he
 just
 wasn’t
 fulfilling
 them.
 One
 day
 I
 went
 and
 talked
 to
 
his
 mother
 for
 a
 few
 hours.
 She
 suggesting
 that
 I
 give
 him
 his
 space
 and
 maybe
 he
 
was
 just
 going
 through
 a
 ‘man
 stage’.
 
 
I
 got
 back
 into
 the
 rhythm
 of
 my
 daily
 routine
 and
 tried
 to
 brush
 off
 my
 
suspicions.
 
 
One
 morning,
 after
 getting
 the
 kids
 up
 and
 ready
 for
 school,
 I
 started
 to
 feel
 
lousy.
 As
 the
 day
 progressed,
 so
 did
 my
 health.
 I
 called
 work
 and
 let
 them
 know
 that
 
I
 wouldn’t
 be
 able
 to
 come
 in.
 Since
 I
 rarely
 ever
 took
 a
 day
 off,
 they
 were
 great
 
about
 it
 and
 wished
 me
 well.
 I
 took
 some
 cold
 medicine
 and
 went
 straight
 to
 bed.
 
 
When
 I
 woke
 up,
 got
 the
 kids
 off
 the
 bus
 and
 finally
 got
 started
 on
 dinner,
 
Gavin
 was
 walking
 in
 the
 door.
 Right
 away
 he
 noticed
 that
 I
 wasn’t
 dressed
 for
 work.
 
“What’s
 wrong
 with
 you?
 You
 know
 you’re
 going
 to
 be
 late?”
 
“I
 called
 out
 sick.”
 I
 stirred
 the
 pot
 of
 soup
 and
 didn’t
 look
 up
 at
 him.
 
“That’s
 just
 great!
 You
 get
 a
 damn
 stuffy
 nose
 and
 suddenly
 can’t
 work.
 
Pathetic!”
 I
 heard
 him
 turn
 around
 and
 head
 out
 of
 the
 kitchen.
 His
 words
 hurt
 me.
 
Even
 when
 I
 was
 sick,
 I
 still
 did
 everything
 I
 needed
 to
 do.
 His
 lack
 of
 compassion
 
rubbed
 me
 the
 wrong
 way.
 Why
 hadn’t
 he
 even
 asked
 if
 I
 was
 okay,
 or
 what
 was
 
wrong
 with
 me?
 
I
 walked
 right
 into
 the
 living
 room
 and
 found
 him
 sitting
 with
 the
 kids.
 “What
 
is
 your
 problem?
 I
 never
 call
 out
 sick.
 Don’t
 you
 even
 care
 if
 I’m
 okay?”
 
He
 laughed
 but
 never
 took
 his
 eyes
 away
 from
 the
 sports
 channel.
 “Whatever,
 
Ves.
 You’re
 obviously
 fine
 if
 you
 are
 up
 in
 my
 shit
 about
 it.
 How
 much
 longer
 before
 
dinner
 is
 ready?”
 
I
 put
 my
 hands
 on
 my
 hips.
 I
 knew
 that
 I
 could
 cry
 or
 I
 could
 get
 pissed.
 We’d
 
been
 together
 way
 too
 long
 for
 me
 to
 be
 okay
 with
 the
 way
 he
 was
 acting.
 “You’re
 
the
 one
 with
 the
 problem!
 I’m
 sick
 and
 you’re
 busy
 treating
 me
 like
 crap.
 Wow!
 I’m
 
so
 glad
 that
 you
 don’t
 give
 a
 damn
 about
 me
 or
 my
 health.
 What
 would
 you
 do
 if
 I
 
just
 dropped
 dead
 like
 my
 mother
 did?
 Would
 you
 even
 care?”
 
Tears
 filled
 my
 eyes
 immediately
 mentioning
 her.
 I
 missed
 her
 so
 much
 and
 it
 
was
 days
 like
 this
 that
 I
 needed
 her
 the
 most.
 
 
I
 made
 my
 way
 into
 the
 kitchen
 and
 leaned
 against
 the
 countertop
 to
 regain
 
my
 composure.
 
 
Hands
 wrapped
 around
 my
 waist
 and
 I
 felt
 Gavin
 breathing
 against
 my
 ear.
 
“I’m
 sorry.
 I
 had
 a
 shitty
 day
 and
 told
 some
 of
 the
 guys
 they
 could
 come
 over
 and
 
watch
 the
 game
 tonight.
 I
 didn’t
 mean
 to
 be
 a
 dick
 to
 you.”
 
I
 turned
 around
 and
 looked
 into
 his
 eyes.
 “Sometimes
 I
 feel
 like
 you
 don’t
 
even
 care
 about
 me
 anymore.
 It’s
 like
 you
 don’t
 even
 consider
 my
 feelings.”
 
He
 frowned
 in
 a
 joking
 kind
 of
 way.
 “I’m
 sorry.”
 His
 hand
 slid
 up
 the
 back
 of
 
my
 shirt.
 Right
 away,
 it
 gave
 me
 the
 shivers.
 When
 he
 reached
 my
 bra
 line,
 I
 gasped
 
and
 leaned
 back
 on
 the
 counter.
 
“Am
 I
 still
 attractive
 to
 you?”
 I
 knew
 I
 wasn’t
 ugly;
 in
 fact,
 I
 got
 hit
 on
 all
 the
 
time.
 After
 having
 two
 kids,
 I
 had
 nice
 curves,
 but
 was
 still
 petite
 and
 pretty
 thin.
 My
 
hair
 was
 long,
 half
 down
 my
 back,
 with
 different
 colored
 blonde
 streaks
 through
 it.
 I
 
didn’t
 have
 wrinkles
 and
 my
 breasts
 didn’t
 sag.
 I
 could
 spend
 minimal
 time
 in
 the
 
bathroom
 and
 feel
 good
 about
 myself.
 
He
 kissed
 the
 side
 of
 my
 head
 and
 pulled
 me
 into
 his
 arms.
 “Of
 course
 you
 
are.”
 
I
 slid
 my
 hands
 up
 the
 back
 of
 his
 shirt
 and
 pulled
 his
 warm
 body
 against