She was still plastered tightly against my side, her face close to mine, and lips very nearly touching. I felt her settle slightly as she thought abou... my questions, her arms came down slightly, from behind my head to around my shoulders."Looking back, I know now that Daddy was already sick by the time Cray came into my life. He never let on, never told me that he didn't have long to live. He just continued to be my father, my protector, my best friend, and my confidant. But when Cray started. You're both a couple of fucking immigrants, ain't you? Well, you'd better pull your fucking socks up, Buttercup sweetie, (if you were ever allowed to wear the fuckers) or you're out. There're lotsa other women out there who'd do your job if they got the fucking chance."With that, he left them with a sniff. Buttercup stared at Tracey plaintively, her cheeks reddened with humiliation and shame, tears of frustration etched onto her cheeks.Eventually, after how many hours Tracey didn't know, there. More

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