I want to leave and never see your face again. I kept my true feelings from showing on my face.
“How’s your mom? She getting into trouble?” Wakeman’s gaze was trained on the joint he was rolling up, but I knew he was paying attention to me.
Yes was the right answer. When wasn’t she? However, he didn’t need to know that. I’d be damned if I asked for his help. The price wasn’t worth it. “She’s fine.”
“You still taking good care of her, butterfly?”
God, I hated that name. I’d rather have the kings call me Corpse than fucking butterfly. The momentary thought of them erased my fear with agitation, lust, and something else that I wasn’t willing to look any further into.
“We all make choices in life.” I shrugged, knowing my choice to take care of my mother had and still was one of the stupidest things I’d ever done. I was the one to end up hurt every single time.
“See, this is why I like you, butterfly. You’re different from other girls, more mature.”
Bile burned the back of my throat, and that smile was shattering faster than I could replace it. How in the hell did Samson do it?
“Thanks.”
He smiled at me, and I fought to keep mine plastered on my face for another second.
“You know, you’ve been doing so good on those pickups. I was thinking, why not do them more often? You’re almost out of school.”
It was the only excuse I’d been able to give him back then. With graduation in sight, he was using it against me. I could practically feel the cold steel of chains wrapping around me.
“Aridole is a bit of a drive back and forth, and I don’t have a car.”
“You don’t?” Wakeman sat up and stared at me, his gray eyes penetrating my soul as if he could see every dirty little secret I kept.
It was nothing like how Samson stared at me. If Wakeman snapped his fingers, a bullet would be embedded in my skull that very second. Samson, he’d draw it out. I was not sure why that made me feel better, but I knew one saw my secrets and wouldn’t tell a soul. The other would use every little scrap against me.
“No, I don’t take charity,” I ground out.
Dragging up the anger I felt for Richard and the situation my mother had dragged me into to cover the fear coursing through my veins, making them ice cold.
Wakeman fell back laughing, his arm draped around the back of the couch, his fingers caressing my shoulder. The shirt I was wearing wasn’t a thick enough barrier. My nails bit into the flesh of my palm as I fought to stay still.
It will be over soon. I’d only been telling myself that same line since I was twelve. Six years later, I was still saying it. The first rolled-up one was fine, but the second, and by the time we got to the third joint, the smoke tasted funny.
“Here and drink this,” Wakeman said.
My flight instincts were kicking in. I passed the joint over. “I really should get—”
“Keegan, don’t piss me off. We’re having a good time here. Relax.”
* * *
The world was spinning,and everything was so loud. Bile burned the back of my throat as I tried to puke up whatever Wakeman slipped me. A knock on the door felt like someone was ramming a hammer into my skull, and I shrieked as I slid down the bathroom wall.I need to get out.Trying to get my feet under me wasn’t working. They felt heavy, and the floor was too slippery.
My eyelids closed against my will, and my head thumped against the wall. “Stay… Bathroom…” My jaw was moving, but I couldn’t understand the words coming out of my mouth.
I wanted to scream and cry all at once but was stuck, unable to leave the confines of my mind as I was forced on the worst trip of my life. Static shapes grew and shrunk behind my eyelids. There was nowhere to focus and ground myself.
Laughter bounced off the bathroom walls, and I realized it was coming from me. It turned to sorrow.
“There you are.”
I tried to force my eyes open, but they were weighted down. I groaned as I started to slide further down the wall.
“The boss was looking for you.”