Broke, Fat, Black, and Ugly
Chapter 7
Terry had arrived before Stace returned from school, waiting for her at the front door.
“Don’t run, slut spawn.” He cautioned in a mild voice when Stace spied him. “And if you call the police, I’ll say you’re just a racist white girl hating on a poor black man down on his luck.”
“Get – out of here!” She stammered.
“I will. As soon as I get my due.”
“Mamma’s at work.”
“I can wait until then.” He grinned and pulled a worn, faded Rubik’s cube from his pocket.
“Get away from our door.” Stacy ordered, calming somewhat.
“Nope. I’m sticking right here, until your mamma gives what she owes me.”
Stace drew on her well tended pluck. “Don’t move.” She plucked keys from her jacket and ignored the fat black man while she unlocked the door.
“You’re as stupid as she is.” Terry pushed his way into our home, catching my daughter up in his wake. He shut the door behind him.
Stace ran to the end of the short hall. It was as far as she could get from her mother’s rapist. “Daddy! Help me!”