Hustle Me (Bank Shot Romance #1)
Author: Jennifer Foor

Preface

Charlie

It was the same dream that I’d been having for as long as I could remember. The only difference was that I knew it was a dream.

The hardwood floor felt cold against the little cotton nightgown that I was wearing. My hair was still wet from my bath and my mother had braided it to the back of my head. I could feel the tears falling down my cheeks right before they fell down to the puddle forming on the floor. My little heart was beating so fast and the only thing keeping me safe was the fact the he didn’t know I was there, under my bed. As I clung tight to my teddy bear, that was missing an eye, I heard my mother screaming, followed by loud sounds of smacking.

"Please, Joe, don’t do this." She pleaded with the last ounce of energy she had to defend herself.

Another loud slam and then a thump. “It wasn’t my fault, I swear.”

Smack. “Lies, all lies. I’ve heard this all before.” His deep voice made my heart race faster.

I heard her hit the wall as she cried and continued to plead with the man.

My mother’s body finally came crashing down on the wood floor in the hallway in front of my bedroom. I could see the top of her head as she tried to get up. Her loud sobs made me hold onto my teddy tighter. I wanted to help her so she didn’t have to cry all the time, but she always made me run and hide from the bad man.

I couldn’t see the bad man, in fact, I never could see his face, but I saw her body tightening up as she took each blow of his boot. "This is what happens when you lie to me, bitch. This is what you deserve!" He continued to kick on her legs.

I opened my eyes, because I had to know she was still okay. My mother was crying, but looking right at me. She brought her finger to her mouth to motion me to be quiet. I gave her a quick nod and leaned my head on my teddy, while covering my ears with my hands. I kept them closed, still able to hear the muffled sounds of my mother’s pain.

I only opened them when I felt the floor vibrating.

He was coming into my room.

I was afraid to look, but I had to. “Charlie? Where are you hiding?”

I opened my eyes and his boots were at the foot of my bed. Out of fear, my body began to shimmy further back until my feet hit the wall. My teeth were chattering and I knew I was going to see his face.

Please don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me.

I could hear the creak of his back when he started to bend over. His hand grabbed the dust ruffle and moved it to the side.

This was it.

I could see his chin.

Where was my mother?

I put my hands over my ears again, closed my eyes and screamed as loud as I could.

Chapter 1

Charlie

When I sat up in my bed, the clock read three in the morning. My cell phone was blinking with a text message and the cat was curled up on the pillow next to me. I grabbed him into my arms and started petting his black coat, before looking over at the teddy bear that was still missing one eye. It was the only thing I still had from that life; the only thing that reminded me to never forget how far I had come.

Just like every other time I had been woken up from the nightmare that continued haunting me, I couldn’t fall back asleep. Before my parents were killed in a house fire, they used to let me sleep with them and hold me tight whenever I had a bad dream. I’d been dealing with the dreams for ten years now and not even therapy or sleeping medication was keeping them away. Since I’d started at the university, they’d gotten even worse.

My therapy sessions hadn’t really shown progress, considering that I was still dreaming of the man named Joe that was coming to find me under my bed. His name had haunted me for as long as I could remember. In fact, I didn’t remember there ever being anyone with the name Joe in my life at all, not even in foster care. It just made no sense.

Luckily, my roommate was never around long enough to discover all of the ridiculous things about me. She was your typical sorority pledge. Mechelle, or Elle, had beautiful blonde hair that was professionally styled. She’d never had to do a chore in her life, because her butler or nanny did them all for her. Aside from her obviously being from a wealthy family, she was also dating the school’s hottest bachelor. When I first met her, I had the biggest stereotype about Elle. I mean, she represented everything that I never had. I wanted to hate her.

There was no way I could ever have the time to pledge or make friends with anyone other than Elle. I mean, after being shifted from one foster home to another, I didn’t really have the means to fool around. Although I hadn’t had a stable life since I was ten years old, I’d managed to always do well in school.

I wouldn’t say it was always easy for me. There was one place that I lived where I had to wear the same outfit to school all week, because the family used my government money to serve their heroin addiction. They didn’t buy me clothes as I outgrew them, or make sure I had something to eat every day. Another family I stayed with seemed perfect from the outside, but late at night, the man of the house liked to “play with the kids.”

School was always my escape and I excelled at it because of that. I didn’t know another kid that reached her achievements because she was afraid of being anywhere other than school. I signed up for every before and after school program. I played field hockey and soccer. I wrote for the high school paper and even joined the debate team for something to do on the weekends. All of that was just a reason for me to be away from what waited for me at my homes.

After my mother and father died is when the dreams really got bad. Of course, I didn’t receive the proper mental care and it wreaked havoc on my mind. I would end up studying all night long instead of getting a good night sleep. Although, sometimes it was good to be able to see my mother, even if she was part of a bad dream. I missed both of my parents, but my mother the most. She was my everything and the only person who had made me feel safe in my life.

I will never forget when I applied to colleges. The wait was nerve-racking, but the outcome unforgettable.

I got my first acceptance on a Friday afternoon. I came home to a cabinet with one can of tuna fish and a jar of peanut butter. My foster mother was sleeping with a burned out cigarette still in her hand. Since my parents died in a fire, I wasn’t too keen on people that smoked. Fire scared me.

Anyway, I opened my can of tuna and ate it with a fork and I opened up that envelope. I was sweating and shaking profusely knowing that the words I was about to read could change my life.

I ended up being accepted everywhere I applied. I shouldn’t have been nervous. I was valedictorian and had gotten straight A’s since I was in first grade.