"You can tell your old lady or not. I don't give a fuck. Just remember, my dad's pluggin' her so don't expect a whole lot of cooperation, okay?"
He lay a heavy hand on her shoulder, squeezing his fingers tightly, then releasing her. Sharon let out a shuddering sigh. Ducking under his arm, she escaped into the night.
"Oh, God," she whispered, rushing down the alley as if pursued by Satan himself. She was thinking all sorts of things. I don't… I won't, she kept promising herself as her feet pounded heavily down the narrow alleyway. Then, halfway back to her home, she stopped, breathing heavily, her eyes fastened on the glowing lights of the Harrington house. Oh how she wanted to burn it to the ground, destroy everyone in it. But the problem wasn't there. The problem was within her and her mother, that demon that peeked up whenever they weren't looking and made itself felt.
She leaned against a wooden fence, closing her eyes and sighing. Would she ever escape this trap? Could she ever, knowing the trap was herself? Sharon shook her head, wondering if her mother was through with Hank yet. Through with him? Sharon laughed softly, covering her mouth with both hands and walking slowly back to her house.
Was this all so bad? She had, after all, enjoyed herself. Oh, it was so confusing, so terribly confusing. How her cunt glowed still from that horrible, yet wonderful session with Tommy. That word again, session.
"I'll think about it tomorrow," Sharon whispered to herself, reaching her backyard and turning in. Yes, tomorrow, and perhaps her mother would tell her something about Hank. And then, all four of them? Sharon shook her head. My, what she was thinking as she entered the kitchen and closed the door behind her.