Her expression shifted somewhat and to my surprise she actually looked hurt.“You really hate me don’t you?” she asked sincerely, softly even.“...ou represent everything I hate in this world,” I growled venomously back.She actually recoiled at my words. I thought I could see a tiny layer of wetness forming in her eyes. Even as angry as I was, the display caught me off guard.“What have I done to you slave? Did I deny your wife your freedom or something?”“I’m not a slave,” I said plainly, casting my. Helen puts her lips at Miss Stella’s ear and whispers something. She then squeezes the breasts harder. Finally, she says loud enough for us to hear, “You have to be the one to ask, Stella. Like I said, he respects you, all women, too much to be an aggressor on a woman he doesn’t know wants him to be.”I quickly looked to Mom. Could this be true? Helen shares most everything with us but not every detail of every conversation will ever be repeated afterwards.She is now looking directly at me, and. More

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