Forgiving Ginger (Broken Girl Book 2)

Book summary

Not every story stars a mistress like Ginger. In Marnie Cate's "Forgiving Ginger," the second installment of the Broken Girl series, we delve into the tumultuous life of Ginger. Raised under the oppressive hand of a foster mother, her encounter with a dreamlike man leads her down a perilous path to becoming a mistress engulfed in deception and fervent passion. This narrative weaves a complex tapestry of love, identity, and the arduous journey towards redemption, challenging the very stereotypes that define us.

Excerpt from Forgiving Ginger (Broken Girl Book 2)

I jumped in surprise at the loud knock on the door. I checked the time on my phone. Jeremy was way too early. Frustration filled me. I had wanted to look perfect. Everything had to be just right. I didn’t know how he would take the news.

knock knock knock

Jeremy pounded harder on the door.

Sighing, I threw my hair in a messy bun and threw on my robe. He’s going to be pissed before you even open the door, I thought bitterly. Suddenly, an idea came to mind and I untied the string on my wrap, exposing the black lacy underwear and push-up bra I wore.

With a deep breath, I put on a brilliant smile and flung open the door. “Sorry, babe. I —”

Instead of my blonde hair, blue-eyed boyfriend, I found a middle-aged Korean man. He beamed at me.

“Eek,” I squealed and slammed the door.

“Miss, you need to sign.” The man frantically knocked as he called through the door. “Please, miss.”

Covering myself, I cracked the door open. “I’m not interested in buying anything.”

“Delivery. Sign here.” The persistent man shoved a clipboard through the crack, waving a thick envelope in his other hand.

Relenting, I signed the paper and handed it back. Then, he slipped the document through the opening. When I took it, he scurried off.

“Thank you,” I called.

***

Hello Ginger,

We have not been formally introduced. You may know me as the crazy bitch you’ve heard so many wonderful things about. And, when you realize I have been your friend and confidant for the last few months, I know you won’t believe me when I tell you I am, in fact, quite sane. I promise you I have no violent episodes or rages. I have just been in a loveless marriage with a cheater for a very long time.

Do you know what Jeremy does if you confront him about cheating? He throws you away. He cuts off all your money. He isn’t getting rid of you completely. That would look bad to the outside world. No, he just wants to remind you who is in control.

He set the stage for this punishment by insisting, early in the relationship, you don’t need to have a job. He needs you to be there for him anytime he wants you. Do you know, even as a married woman with no prenuptial agreement, I had to live with my mother for two months until I was willing to apologize to him for his indiscretions?

I never planned on being your friend when I dressed up as Justice. I just wanted to know the truth about my husband and the girl in the picture. You were not what I expected. Instead of a homewrecker, I met a sweet woman who will be a wonderful mom soon. You and your child deserve better than Jeremy Whittaker.

I know what I am giving you is not enough to set you up for the rest of your life, but I want you to take it. I can’t force you to stay away from Jeremy and start again. However, I encourage you to have a life with someone who loves you and makes you feel proud of yourself. Not a life of Jeremy’s domination and second thoughts.

The pictures I sent you were just a taste of my dear husband’s flings. You received a few months’ worth. Imagine the album I could put together of all of his affairs.

While you were wearing my dress, I was hosting a women’s luncheon on domestic violence. How ironic is that? But those are memories that should be buried and forgotten. Looking back when I am old and gray, I don’t want to think I stayed around to be treated like I was nothing.

From your pregnancy, it is apparent Jeremy has become a little sloppy about practicing safe sex. As of today, I can confirm he has not passed on any STDs to me. Today. Let’s hope that stays true.

This letter has become a little more preachy than I hoped. I just wanted to send you a friendly warning. No, not a threat. Not a leave my husband alone. Because if you want him still, he’s yours. But I would say that no amount of money is worth what Jeremy will put you through. Find someone who will share a dessert with you and not make you wish you had ordered one yourself.

I wish you the best, Ginger. Really.

~ Caitlin Chase

***

“Oh, honey, a cheat will always be a cheat. You really should get out of that relationship,” she’d said. “You deserve better than him.”

The image of Justice comforting me as I showed her the pictures of Jeremy with all those women formed in my head. She had really been Jeremy’s wife pretending to be my friend?

In addition to the letter, there was a stack of hundred-dollar bills.

That day, Justice – no Caitlyn – had offered me money.

She had lovingly smoothed my hair away from my face and said, “I don’t have much money, but I will give you what I have saved if it will help you get a fresh start.”

Oh god, I had told her about the baby. Does Jeremy know?

Pain filled me as I thought about my friend. Justice had seemed like she really cared about me. It was as if I had a sister. Someone to count on. Someone who loved me.

The last time I saw Justice, no… Caitlyn, she’d given me two thousand dollars.

“Here. Do yourself a favor. Get on a plane far from here. Meet a nice man and raise your child with him. You don’t want to be miserable for the rest of your life,” Justice had said, shoving the stack of money into my hand.

I had tried to argue, but she insisted. I didn’t know that I would never see her again. I had set it aside with plans to return it the next time we met up.

The image of her giving me the money flashed in my mind. “Take it as a ‘thank you’. You reminded me what’s important.” Those were the last words I would ever hear from my friend.

Once again, I had lost someone I cared about.

Maybe I am a horrible person who doesn’t deserve to be loved? Crumpling to the floor, I began to cry.

Two

Sudden coughing overtook me, and I woke to thick smoke. I hurried towards the door and screamed in pain as the hot knob sizzled my skin. Desperate to escape, I sprinted to my window. Opening it, I climbed onto the roof of the house. Flames were everywhere. My parents’ room was ablaze. I had to get help.

Climbing down the trellis as I had done many times before, I ran to the closest neighbor. After that, everything was a blur. Oxygen mask. My parents being carried out. Our neighbor doing compressions on my mother and demanding she live. Then, darkness.

For the next few months, I lived in a fog. There was no funeral. No goodbye. They were just gone from me.

I was an orphan with no family. My parents had left me with no one. The only thing I owned was a small bag of clothes and personal items. The fire had obliterated my entire life. There wasn’t a single scrap of evidence left that proved I had once been in a loving family.

***

“Oh, Barbie is here. What are Mommy and Daddy in rehab?” a cruel teenage voice taunted, bringing me back to my current reality.

“Leave her be,” a strong voice snarled.

“Or what,” the cruel girl sneered back.

I glanced to see who was arguing about me. The mean girl looked about sixteen. Her makeup was overdone with drawn-on eyebrows giving her a perpetual frown that was only enhanced by the dark red outline on her lips. My defender was a petite girl with beautiful mocha skin. Her hair was pulled back in a tight pony, accentuating her high cheekbones and deep brown eyes. Both girls had on the same grey sweat suit as me.

“I’ll make you wish you kept your fucking mouth shut,” my defender growled and jumped on the girl.

Fight, Fight, Fight. The group of girls chanted as they surrounded them.

“Knock it off,” a male caseworker screamed and picked both girls up by their collars. He looked like a giant as he easily held them apart.

The girls began fighting again as he tugged them apart once more. “Do you want to be sent back to juvie? I’m itching to get rid of some of you troublemakers.”

Both girls stilled. “You need to tell that bitch to mind her own business,” the mean girl argued.

“Fighting someone else’s battles, again, Percy?” the man asked.

“Maloney, you need to put Barbie over there somewhere safe. You keep dropping off little girls in this home and you know they’re going to eat her alive.” The girl he called Percy motioned at me.

Once again with the Barbie stuff, I thought bitterly. I’m not even a blonde!

The man eyed me.

I quickly looked away.

“She’s not going to be here long,” Jones snapped, forcing the girls to sit in a chair. Looking around the room, he warned. “I suggest you keep your hands off of her. She’s a VIP.”

As the man left the communal area, he winked at me. Did he just save me, or did he ensure I’ll get beat up when he’s out of sight?

I didn’t have much time to ponder my situation before Percy pulled up a chair next to me. She just stared at me. No words. Finally, unable to handle the anticipation, I murmured, “Thanks.”

Her mouth pouted, and she shrugged. “Brewster is always spouting off. That fat bitch needs to learn her place.”

I bit my lip, considering her words. What is my place?

“Maloney has scared the shit out of them so they should leave you alone. Now, it’s up to you to take care of yourself. Don’t get in trouble. Keep your pretty face from getting messed up and some white folk’ll be along to save you soon enough.”

My eyes widened in surprise at her words.

She looked me up and down and continued. “You look innocent. Unbroken. They’ll find you a foster home quickly.”

Moisture blurred my vision.

“No, that’s the worst thing you can do. No crying,” Percy hissed.

Wiping my eyes, I took a deep breath, “No crying,” I repeated.

During my short stay in the group home, Percy was my protector, my friend. Her words had been true. Two weeks after I was dropped off in the facility – that I would later learn was a residential treatment center – my new caseworker took me away. I didn't have time to say goodbye to my friend or question where I was going.