Текст книги "Tainted Black"

Автор книги: Shanora Williams

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Dad scratched his head after accepting the club. “I feel like I’ve seen that man before, but I have no clue who the hell he is.”

I laughed. “That’s Mr. Hunt. His first name is Jake. You volunteered to go on a field trip with him one time—a long time ago.”

“Oh. The boy knows you?” he inquired.

“We… used to date.”

Dad’s face was full of disgust, nose scrunched, forehead creased. “Him!?”

I glanced back. “I know…” I turned forward again, looking down at the grass. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Dad chuckled. “Don’t sweat it.” Then he tipped my chin back up. “We all fall for pimply, odd-statured people with arrogant attitudes.”

I giggled. “You’re crazy. Go swing!”

He put on a smile, walking forward and getting into position. When he tipped the ball into the hole with the flat edge, he went to take it out, and I jotted his score down.

“I’m guessing he isn’t your type then, huh?” Dad looked at me as we started towards the golf cart. I peered up at him, my hat shielding my face from the sun. There was gentleness in his eyes, his curiosity burning. I guess I didn’t expect him to know anything about this—my relationship life, that is. I never talked about boys with my father. Like, ever.

“He’s… way too simple-minded for me.” I glanced back, watching the Hunts struggle with which club to start with.

“Yeah, that I can see. You’re a smart girl. You need someone on your level—or even a little higher.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“So what is it that peaks your interest?”

“Ya know…” I hesitated, unsure as I started the cart and drove to the next course. “I don’t really have a type, but for some reason I always end up with a football player at my side. I don’t get it.”

“Hot bods,” he mused, grinning.

I choked on a laugh, twisting my lips and putting the cart in park. “It feels weird talking to you about this.”

“You might as well get it out now. I’m sure I won’t be able to remember it by tomorrow… maybe even tonight.”

I swallowed thickly, but Dad acted as if his comment wasn’t meant to be damaging. For some reason, that comment brought me right back to reality. The fact that he had Alzheimer’s. The fact that he most likely wouldn’t remember my first name by the following morning, maybe even the same evening.

Hopping out of the cart, Dad pulled out one of the tees and stuck it in the grass. I stepped out and dropped the bag, watching as he stood there for a while with the golf ball in hand and a confused expression now on his face.

I realized what was happening before he could ask, “Where’d I get this ball from?”

Picking up the bag of clubs, I walked towards him and took the ball away, pulling out the tee from the grass. “We’ve been out her for about two hours now, Dad. I think we should head back home.”

“Uh… yeah. I guess.” He said nothing more as I collected the clubs and tossed them in the back of the cart. Dad climbed inside, sitting forward, eyes ahead. He was disappointed. I pretended his forgetfulness didn’t bother me by mentioning how great his swing was—how he still had it. It made him feel somewhat better, but not entirely.

The car ride was quiet on the way back home. We arrived in fifteen minutes, catching Margie in the kitchen, whipping up some lunch. “Well, look who’s back!” she chimed, turning around with a pink apron tied at her waist. “How was it?” she asked as I shut the garage door behind me.

“A disaster,” Dad grumbled.

“Was not,” I argued. “It was great, Margie. He still has his swing.”

“That’s wonderful!” Her chubby cheeks spread as she looked from me to my dad. “Are you hungry, Mr. Knight?”

“No, no.” He waved a hand. “I just want to rest.” He said this while he was already walking out of the kitchen. Margie quickly turned the stove off, following after him but giving me a wink before disappearing. She had it from here.

Blowing out a deep breath, I sat at the counter and ran my fingers across my face. It was getting worse for him. I didn’t know how much more I could handle.

Slipping off the stool, I tiptoed upstairs and took a shower, ridding myself of the ninety-degree heat. Once I finished, I got dressed and heard my phone buzz in the pocket of my shorts.

I figured it was Izzy or even Mariah. I was wrong.

It was Theo.

Theo: Plans tonight?

 

Me: …not sure yet.

 

Theo: Can we meet?

 

Me: What if I end up having plans?

 

Theo: I asked first.

 

Me: Actually, no. Someone already beat you to the punch.

I just haven’t confirmed or anything yet.

 

Theo: A guy??

 

I frowned, but then I smiled, pleased to know he even cared.

Me: No. My roommate is coming to Bristle.

Wants me to hang with her.

 

Theo: A specific place?

 

Me: At stupid Brix.

Me: I’ll be free after the club…

 

Theo: Well if u get bored u should come to Dane’s.

Only a block away from Brix.

Drinks on me if you decide to come, LK. No pressure.

Little Knight.

My cheeks blazed like a furnace. If Theo was coming to the city, that meant I needed to dress accordingly—look too hot to touch. I called Mariah and told her I’d show. She was beyond thrilled.

After setting a time, I relaxed during the rest of my day, taking up the idea of reading a book by the pool and wondering just how I would make it through a night that ended with Theo Black. I didn’t confirm with him on purpose. I didn’t need him thinking I was too eager to see him, even though I was.

I thought of every bad scenario—someone knowing he was Izzy’s dad, seeing us put on a display of affection in public or quite possibly catching us making googly eyes at one another. That person would then inform Izzy or someone that knew her, leaving us both fucked and left to drown.

But then I thought of the good.

I could drink with him… again.

I could have a good time with him beneath dim lights. Dane’s, a place where no one worried about what anyone else was doing. A place where alcoholics could drink without limits and women didn’t have to worry about being harassed because the alcoholics cared more for the bottles than various amounts of ass flouncing around.

I could smell him again… taste him again… hold him again.

There were way too many possibilities, and although I had those bad scenarios in the back of my mind, nothing could top the excitement I felt coursing through me when I thought of him.

I was ready. I needed to see Theo.

And I needed him immediately, in every way possible.

Eleven

Dane’s was just like how it used to be during my worst times—dim lights, a weird peanut smell, and annoying alternative music that was, fortunately, easy to ignore with the flat screens plastered on every cement wall, streaming ESPN. The waitresses still dressed like they had no mother to raise them. Short leather skirts or short black shorts and tank tops that showcased a large pair of tits.

I picked up the whiskey Marcel slid across the bar, giving him a quick bob of my head as I lifted the glass to my lips. He returned the gesture before turning his back to me with a rag and a wet glass in hand, clearing it of soap and droplets.

After taking a long sip, allowing the burn to further relax me, I flicked my wrist, checking the time. It was nearing midnight. I thought for sure she’d make an appearance before now, but I guess I was wrong.

My leg bounced, my shoe pressing into the metal bar of the chair.

I looked around, thinking maybe she was somewhere else. Maybe looking for me? Shit, who was I kidding?

She knew better.

Maybe it was a good thing she didn’t show.

We needed to get over each other. Though I hated rejection and being stood up, I could understand a no-show. And the worst part? I couldn’t be upset about it. She was young. I was twenty years older than her. She was in college with her whole life ahead of her, and I’d already established mine. I owned a car shop and had settled my party-going ways a long time ago.

I finished off my third whiskey, and Marcel turned, one of his bushy eyebrows arching. “‘Nother round?”

“Nah.” I pulled the wallet out of my back pocket with the chain attached and flipped it open, sliding two twenties across the counter. “I’m good for the night. Gotta drive. Appreciate it though.”

Marcel accepted the change. “Mmmhmm.”

Standing from the stool, I turned for the exit, the bright neon lights burning my eyes as I staggered toward the door. Before I could reach the handle, the door had already swung open, and a young girl with the ends of her hair dyed pink dashed in, laughing so hard I swear she was about to pop a lung.

“Oh my gosh! This place fucking sucks!” she yelled, loud enough for Marcel to hear. I glanced back. Marcel’s line of sight shifted from the TV screen above him to the girl. He then looked at me. I shrugged, looking forward again. “Damn it, Chloe! Why’d you drag us here?”

Chloe? I wasn’t sure how I made out that name, considering the girl’s speech was horribly slurred. My back straightened, breathing turning shallow as I focused on the other girl that walked through the door. And my fucking god, she looked amazing. Good enough to fucking eat, but maybe just a little too hot to devour right away.

In this moment, as she walked inside with a halter dress that hugged her body, strappy heels, and her hair pinned up, it seemed she was on fucking fire. And for only a millisecond, I couldn’t breathe. I liked this fiery side of her.

Blazing.

Burning.

Untouchable.

If I got too close, I knew she’d burn me. But, like a child, I was mesmerized, dying to cop a feel. Unable to stop staring. Wanting so badly to play with that raging blaze.

Fuck.

Her eyes caught mine when she made it through the door, a guy following behind her. My fists automatically clenched as he pressed his palm on the small of her back and said something to her, but then he hurried for the pink-haired girl. I realized he wasn’t Chloe’s date. He was the crazy girl’s.

Pink Hair and her date went to the bar, ordering a round of drinks from an irritated Marcel. He was never the type to kick anyone out, especially if the kids looked wealthy and ready to drink the night away, and that was exactly what they looked like. Ready to party. Ready to get wasted. Ready to blow all their money on overpriced drinks.

I turned forward again, watching as Chloe stood there, a light smile on her face. Her grey eyes bolted with mine, the sound of a lock clinking in my head, verifying that I would no longer be able to look away from her for the rest of the night.

Her skin looked as smooth as satin beneath the dim lights, her hair probably as soft as silk. It was actually tamed tonight. No wild curls. No hippie style to go along with it. It suited her as well. She had a versatile appeal.

“Hi, Theo,” she murmured, taking a step towards me. “Sorry I’m so late.”

“Nah… it’s all good.” I took a step with her. “Didn’t think you’d show though.”

“Good… that’s exactly what I wanted.” Her cheeks stretched.

“Oh really? And why is that?”

“I wanted to see how long you’d wait.”

I shrugged. “Playing the hard to get game, huh?”

“No not at all,” she teased.

“I just figured you’d made up your mind… chose a different path.”

Her brows narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean.” Her eyes moved quickly from mine, avoiding the subject at all costs. Sighing, she looked from me to the bar, shaking her head at her friends. “Those must be the friends that beat me to the punch, I presume?” I decided to forget about the subject too.

“Yep.”

“Wild,” I chuckled.

“Her name in my phone is actually Wild Child. What a coincidence!”

I glanced over my shoulder. “I can see why.”

She continued a smile, rocking on her heels. To avoid awkwardness I pointed back with my thumb, gesturing towards the counter. “How about we join them? I owe you a drink, right?”

“Oh—no!” She waved a hand. “You don’t have to. I’m DD.”

“DD?” I frowned, confused.

She giggled. “Designated driver.”

“Ohh.” I cracked a half-smile. “I knew that. Shit, one drink won’t kill you. Come on!”

She looked at me and then at the bar. I guess all of the aligned bottles on the shelves felt welcoming because she finally moved forward. “Fine, but sheesh,” Chloe laughed, walking past me and meeting at the far end of the bar. “Come on Mr. Black, you aren’t that old. You should know what DD means.”

I watched her hips swing, throbbing when my last name ran off her lips. I controlled myself, keeping my voice even as I said, “Your generation is a little different than mine.” I followed her to the bar, taking a seat.

“How so?” she questioned.

“Just is. Some of the shit I hear kids say now confuses the fuck out of me.”

Chloe laughed, her eyes shimmering from the dim lighting above. “Like YOLO, thot, and Bye, Felicia?”

“Exactly! What do those even mean?” I gestured for Marcel to come my way and after ordering another drink for myself and allowing her to order her own, she responded.

“YOLO means ‘you only live once’. A thot is a girl that apparently is a whore, or someone that will sleep with anyone for attention. And Bye, Felicia pretty much means ‘get the fuck out of here with your bullshit’.”

My eyes expanded, and I couldn’t help the laugh that spewed out of me. “Wow… see! Like I said. This generation comes up with some pretty wild shit.”

She shook her head, still fighting that cute little grin. Her arm happened to brush mine, a bolt of electricity lighting my core. As if she felt that same spark, she looked up at me, but she didn’t dare move away. The smoothness of her skin on mine, the flesh on flesh, was all too familiar, and I refused to kill this moment by pulling away. I couldn’t be a pussy, pretend nothing was here when there was clearly so much.

So many unanswered questions.

So many unshared moments.

So many times I’ve wanted to make her mine repeatedly, take her in every position, hear her whisper and then cry my name, hold me close as our lips molded, our breathing entwined, deep in passionate trances.

I placed my hand on top of the one she had resting on her lap. Moments later and the wild girl appeared over Chloe’s shoulder, her drink sloshing all over the countertop, interrupting our connected gazes. Chloe turned quickly to take the drink from her and placed it on the counter before she could spill it on our clothes.

“Chloe,” the girl whined, “can we pleeaaassseee go back to Brix. I was having so much fun there!”

“I know, but you swore we could come to Dane’s at twelve, Mariah.” Chloe frowned.

“Yah… I know, but…ugh.” She looked around in revulsion. “We’re not having fun here.” She pouted her bottom lip, placing her elbow on the edge of the counter. She then zoned in on me, her hooded eyes narrowing. “Oh my gosh… you are so fucking hot!”

I pressed my lips, nodding in appreciation.

“No seriously…” The Mariah girl stood up straight. “Is he why you wanted to come here? My fucking goodness he’s beautiful.”

Chloe’s cheeks burned, and she purposely avoided my eyes.

“He looks sooo familiar though…” Her lips twisted as she walked around Chloe to get a closer look at me. When it finally registered, she said, “Oh! I know! He totally looks like your friend Izzy! You know, the one we hung out with for spring break last year?”

In an instant, my face went strict, jaw ticking. Reality, like a whirlwind, hit me and I turned forward, looking up at the screen and pulling my hand far away from Chloe’s. I pretended not to notice Marcel looking at me from his end of the bar. I was sure he’d been wondering why I was hanging around my daughter’s friends at a bar… buying them drinks. Snooting it up with her best friend.

Swallowing thickly, I picked up my drink and finished it. When I finally looked at Chloe, she was speechless as well, like she, too, had forgotten about reality. Her head dropped, pulling from our connected line of sight. “How about I take you guys back to Brix?” I offered, sliding off my stool.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to.” She downed her cranberry-vodka and then slammed the empty glass on the marble. “I can take them back.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Mariah butted in. “That was her first drink of the night. So fucking lame, right?” Her laugh came out like more of a cackle, causing her date to join in on the laughter with her. Man, they were annoying little shits. How could she deal with this all night? I’m almost certain that, when I was their age, I wasn’t that obnoxious.

“Come on, Tiny!” Mariah waved for the lanky boy at the bar to follow her outside. When they were long gone, Marcel blew a sigh and picked up their glasses, wiping their area clean. Chloe remained seated, looking at me for a brief moment before dropping her head.

“She doesn’t know who you are,” she murmured, “…if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Yeah, I know.” I scratched my chin. “Sure you don’t want me to drop you off?”

She stood from the stool, looking into my eyes as she neared me. My pounding heart caught speed as she placed a hand on top of my shoulder. “I was actually thinking about dropping them off and meeting you… if that’s okay?”

“Shit… yeah. More than okay.”

“Where should we meet?”

I thought of it, and when I pictured the perfect place, I told her, “I’ll text you the address.”

She nodded. “Okay.” Then, she walked past me, her round ass bouncing, heels clicking across the wooden floorboards. Glancing over her shoulder, lips full and supple, she sarcastically asked, “Just try and make it a little public, will you?”

She had no idea. The place I had in mind was more private than a secluded hotel room reserved for a celebrity. With a half-smile on my lips, I watched as she left the bar, her words running back and forth in my head. I leaned my elbows on the counter, sighing as I pulled out my cell phone. Marcel still stood at the bar, clearing his throat.

When I turned around to look at him, his brows were stitched, lips pressed thin. He was a buff guy with a shiny baldhead and a hoop earring in his left ear. His reddish goatee had grown out since the last time I saw him, his grey t-shirt stained with sweat. “Mind telling me what the hell that was?”

“What do you mean?” I pretended I didn’t know what he was talking about.

“The girl,” he gestured towards the door, “…the one that’s about half your age that just walked out of here. Isn’t that little Chloe?”

I glanced down, running my tongue over my teeth. I could have explained it to him, but I just didn’t know how. “Look, Marcel, just pretend you didn’t even see her here.”

He grunted and it just so happened to be the sound of his laughter. “I see plenty of shit going on around here. Trust me, this isn’t the worst of it. Ain’t my business but… be careful, man. And be wise.”

He, of all people, knew what he was talking about. He knew my daughter. I talked about her at least once every time I made an appearance here. Considering he had a daughter himself, I could only imagine what he was thinking.

Did he consider me a pervert?

A dipshit?

An idiot that overpaid for drinks?

As all of that clicked in my brain, I started to think… what if an older man came onto my daughter? A man that I thought I could trust? A man that was supposed to look out for her, not fuck her brains out?

Fuck no. I couldn’t even fucking imagine a man my age touching my daughter. My child. My fucking life.

Dropping another wad of bills on the counter for Chloe’s forgetful friends and myself, I marched for the exit and hopped into my car, cranking it and driving to the one place I should have been all along.

Home.

Away from the fantasies.

Away from what wasn’t meant to be.

Away from Chloe.

Twelve

 

 

He didn’t text me.

Or respond to the text I sent him. Not even a phone call. At first I was worried, thinking he may have gotten into an accident or maybe caught up with something, but when I saw him casually entering his home with a box of tools the following night, I knew he was avoiding me.

I tried thinking of what may have happened between the time I left him and now. Other than Mariah blabber-mouthing about how he looked like Izzy, I couldn’t think of much. Maybe the mere mention of his daughter’s name was enough to make him realize that he was getting off track—that he couldn’t go back to what we were before.

It couldn’t be that way. He couldn’t hurt her, and he also couldn’t hurt me. Distance was understandable, but all he had to do was tell me. What was all that talk about sharing just one summer? Did he not think of her then? Or was he too far gone in his thoughts and thinking with his dick?

I considered it him thinking with his other nonsensical head.

It whipped at my emotions, but I had to put myself in his shoes. I was tired of beating around the bush, dying for this man to touch me, feel me—do anything that would make me feel something. I just wanted to go back to school, forget I ever came here and saw him again.

Ugh. Men.

Speaking of, my father had trapped himself in his bedroom, refusing his meds again, which eventually resulted in a tough day for us. He called us strangers (as he always did) and even threw one of his trophies at us when we came to bring him lunch.

My day was stressful. Margie had way more patience than I could ever uphold. I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could handle—the confusion from Theo and the stress I endured while putting up with my father. I was a strong girl, but there was only so much I could handle right now.

I sat on my bed a few minutes after I saw Theo entering his home, knees drawn to my chest, tears shedding. A knock sounded on my door seconds later, and Margie walked in with a basket of my folded laundry. Seriously, she was too much. Freaking wonderful. When she caught sight of the tears on my face, she quickly apologized and hurried back out, but I called for her to come back in.

“It’s okay,” I whispered.

“Are you sure sweetie? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“No bother at all.” I swiped my face, clearing my eyes as she placed the basket in front of my closet. “What’s going on?”

“I washed most of your clothes. Thought you could use a little help.” Her smile was complacent. “I also wanted to let you know your father is finally asleep. He ate a little bit of yogurt and some of his banana, so hopefully that’ll hold him over for the night.”

“Oh, okay.” I nodded. “Thank you so much, Margie.”

“Of course, dear.” She started to turn, but then changed her mind, looking at me again. “I—well, I just wanted to ask you about something.”

“Yeah?”

Stepping forward, she twisted her fingers in front of her and hesitated for a few seconds. “It’s none of my business at all, and you don’t have to answer, but… I saw you coming from across the street the other night? The man kissing you on the cheek?” She blinked, an ounce of overprotectiveness in her eyes. “Is he the reason you’re upset?”

“Oh, god, no!” I slid to the edge of the bed, and she pressed a hand to her chest, relieved. “No. The man across the street is a really good guy. He invited me over for dinner. I’ve known him since I was twelve.”

“Oh. How nice. Does he have children?”

I looked away. “Just one. A daughter.”

“Oh.” Margie’s eyes maneuvered to the picture on my nightstand. The black and white photo of me and Izzy standing right in front of their house across the street. “I’m going to take a wild guess and assume that’s her?”

I glanced up. Margie’s head was slanted. When I didn’t say anything, she walked forward and sat beside me. “Sweetie, you don’t have to talk, but I just want you to know that whenever you think you need to, I’m here. I know your mom isn’t around and your dad isn’t in the very best state of mind to take in your problems on top of his own, so if you need an ear, I’m always here.” Her chubby cheeks spread, grey irises full of kindness.

“Thank you, Margie. I appreciate that.” She nodded but remained seated as if she knew there was more. Surprisingly, I continued our chat. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have been thinking about Theo—”

“That’s his name?” She pointed towards my window.

“Yes…”

“Ahh. You call him by his first name. I see my eyes weren’t deceiving me. There’s much more to that kiss on the cheek, huh?”

I huffed a laugh. “A lot more. How can you tell?”

“Let’s just say I may have dealt with a situation like the one you’re in. Goodness, it was so long ago, but I can remember everything.” Silence fell between us. I assumed she was thinking of whomever the man was, remembering every single detail like I did every single damn day.

“He isn’t the reason I’m upset, though,” I murmured.

“No?”

“No. It’s just Dad. I feel so awful for him. For Mom not being here, him being alone. It kinda sucks, you know?”

“Oh, honey, your dad will be okay. Trust me, he’s a strong man. Just very stubborn on the days he can’t remember much.”

“Is it supposed to be that way?”

She shrugged and sighed. “It could be worse.”

“I bet you hate your job now, huh?” I laughed, teasing.

“You know… it’s actually not so bad. Mr. Knight is a good guy on his good days, and I was fortunate enough to meet his sweet daughter. I swear I thought I was going to have to deal with two stubborn people when I heard you were coming home. I was kind of scared.”

I snickered. “Nah… I hear I can be pretty laid back like him.”

“You have a lot his traits, but when it comes to love…” Her eyes softened. “I think you get that from your mom. The testing of boundaries, wanting what you know you shouldn’t have. What you don’t need. Trust me, I know.”

I wanted to frown, but I was too stuck on how spot-on she was. She knew so much about us. It was strange. I felt like I’d met her before, a very, very long time ago. Way before my memory could ever be established. “Did you—did you know my mom personally?” I squinted my eyes in her direction.

Margie stood, looking down at me with a faint upward curve on her lips. “Your mom was my roommate in college. We used to hang out a lot even after you were born, but… certain things set us apart.” She sighed. “She chose me to watch over your dad because she trusted me—knew I wanted to be a caregiver and nurse.”

“Wow… it’s kind of like she had this all planned out.”

“Well, I don’t mean to bash your mother or anything, but when it comes to life, she lives it and refuses to have anything holding her back. I’m pretty sure when she heard about your father’s Alzheimer’s, she was already planning how to get out of the situation but still keep the money in her pocket. Why do you think she only has one child? Because she didn’t need more holding her back, but she also wanted to have that experience in her back pocket to talk about whenever the conversations arose with other mothers. Why do you think you’re so distant from her? Why she only gave you an hour of her day when you were young? Why she isn’t here right now?”

“She gave more than Dad could. He was hardly around.”

“Your father worked very hard to provide for you, Chloe. He—” She froze. I could tell she wanted to say more but had to rapidly stop the flow of her words, swallowing hard and holding back. “Anyway, remember what I told you. Anytime you need to talk, I’m here.” Margie moved towards the door, but I hopped off the bed.

“Wait—Margie!”

She glanced back as I stood in the middle of my bedroom. “Mom wasn’t all bad you know?”

“I know, sweetie.”

“And about Theo… well, I’m just a little confused right now, is all. I’m sure I’ll figure that out soon.”

She put on a genuine smile, gripping the doorknob. “That, I’m sure about too, lovely. But I’m also sure you won’t be figuring it out anytime soon.”

I stared at her, unsure of what else to say. This was the most I had ever spoken about boys to anyone older than me. Margie seemed to hold wisdom and understanding. She was a patient woman, and I could use that in my life.

Honestly, it kind of scared me to think about opening up to a woman I’d just gotten to know, but it also thrilled me to know I could come home to someone that would listen and understand. Someone that wouldn’t judge me or think I was insane or selfish for my actions. Someone that understood exactly what I was going through.

We swapped smiles. “Goodnight, Margie.”

“Goodnight, bella.”

When the door shut behind her, I blew out a breath, sitting in the chair in front of my computer. Headlights crossed my window and an immediate frown took over. Hopping from the chair, I rushed to the window, watching as Theo’s Charger pulled in the driveway backwards. He climbed out, and out of the passenger door came the girl with the blonde hair.

I blinked hard, biting hot tears. They walked to the door, her ahead of him. When they were inside, I could no longer look. I knew what was about to happen. Izzy didn’t call her his girl toy for no reason. She only came over when he was in need… when he was desperate to get off.

My head shook hard, and unfortunately, the tears fell. If he didn’t think he was hurting me, he was wrong. He was killing me, and being here in Primrose was making me spiral and lose myself all over again.

I felt just like I did right before I left.

Like scum, a piece of gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe.

Worthless. Pointless. In the way.

Switching the lamp off, I slipped beneath my blanket. I fell asleep, and luckily, I couldn’t remember my dreams. I just slept, but when I awoke, my head was pounding. I checked my alarm clock. 12:18 PM.

“Ughhh.” I groaned, sitting up. My head pounded even more. I’d slept a little too long. Climbing out of bed, I went to the bathroom to freshen up and then put on a pair of shorts and a tank top.

After informing Margie that I was going for an afternoon run, I was out of the door with my earphones plugged in my ears. I ran around Primrose twice and then entered the park, the park that held so many memories.

As I neared the fountain, I helplessly looked to my right and spotted the line of trees Theo had taken me through once before. I knew that patch of grass was still there, the daises and sunflowers.

I picked up my pace, running faster, zooming through the park and hitting the track. I ran it five times, until I became too tired and too out of breath. Bending forward, my palms on my thighs, I inhaled much needed oxygen, trying desperately to rid myself of all memories of him. It was impossible. They’d been seared into the core of my brain. They were permanent. There was no getting rid of him.