She takes my hand and shakes it, before pulling away. "Chaisley Bennett. You drink Moscato?"
"I drink anything that can alter my mental state."
"Be right back," she says and disappears inside of her apartment. I run my fingers through my hair, before setting my purse down on the table. My phone chimes. I drop the box of cigarettes on the table and pull out my phone, still lit up from the message. Seeing that name eases my mind a little.
I touch the home button, unlocking my phone as the fingerprint scanner reads my thumbprint. It immediately opens to the messaging box; since that's the last place I was when it timed out. That's a little pathetic...
Killer (12: 43): You up?
I really should change his name in my phone... as in now. I probably should have just left it under what he added it as, but it was funny at the time.
Me: Yes.
Kaston: Where are you?
Me: Visiting with a neighbor.... and avoiding my apartment like an STD.
Kaston: Neighbor?
Me: Yes. You know, those people that usually live beside you but not with you.
Kaston: I'm not in the mental state for smartass jokes at the moment.
Me: Ofuckingkay. Obviously...you need to get laid.
Kaston: That's a little difficult when you're there and I'm here. I thought you were going home to deal with your mother.
Me: Well that was before I met my neighbor.... It was more tempting.
Kaston: What neighbor?
Me: OMG! A girl in my building. Why?
Kaston: What are y'all doing?
Me: Seriously?
Kaston: It's a legit question.
Me: Read above text. It answers that question.
Kaston: What is your version of "visiting?"
Me: I didn't know there were different ones. Are you okay? What's wrong with you?
I put out the bud of the cigarette on the concrete as Chaisley walks outside, handing me the glass of wine. I grab the stem and take a gulp as I read his latest message.
Kaston: Well when you admit to fucking around with another female there is. My mind is a little fucked up right now. I may be an asshole for a few hours. Don't hold it against me...
My wine spews everywhere, but luckily my head was facing the grass and not Chaisley. I cough, trying to catch my breath from the small amount that went down my windpipe.
"Uh, does it taste bad," she asks.
I push the pack of cigarettes toward her as I shake my head, trying to gain my composure, my phone probably wet in my lap. "One." I cough. "Minute."
She shrugs her shoulders and sits back down, grabbing a cigarette and the lighter. I sit the glass down until I can tend to this conversation. Right now it’s a hazard to my health.
Me: FYI, give me a warning before you say shit like that out of the blue. Someone almost got the gift of a wine shower.
Send.
Me: To answer your question, yes, I have fucked around with Delta...TWICE, both times years apart, and not for the reason that you would probably think. It was hot and all, but it’s not for me. Sometimes you have to do things for friends that others don’t understand. I’ll leave it at that. I will not deny that I like dick, a lot, and preferably yours. If your jealousy over pussy weren’t completely cute it would piss me off. I would never fuck or fuck around with someone else if I'm not one hundred percent single, male or female. If it would piss off or wrong my partner, currently you, I don’t do it. Period. I may have no shame in a lot of things, but I'm not that kind of person. I believe in commitment if two people enter into any form of a relationship.
I send that long ass message. It doesn't show that he's typing, so I lay my phone back in my lap and grab my wine. "Sorry. That was kind of rude."
"Man troubles?"
"Something of that nature."
She laughs. "Usually is."
I take a sip of my wine, and then another. "Is that speaking from experience?"
"A time or two, but nothing major." She exhales, blowing smoke into the air. "Dating isn't really my thing. I like the sexual benefits of it, but not the rest."
My phone chimes again. "I didn't think it was mine either..."
I open my phone as I take a gulp of my wine.
Kaston: Just for the record... I'm not usually like this. I just need to clear my head, but I still have some shit to do. Message me when you get home. Okay?
Me: Just for the record... neither am I. We'll figure it out. I won't be long. I just needed a minute to clear mine and an opportunity presented itself.
Kaston: Be careful. Tomorrow I need you. Talk soon.
Tomorrow I need you...
I down the rest of my wine as I clench my phone in my hand. My heart feels out of rhythm. I think I'm done with wine tonight. I'm just not feeling it. I stand, grabbing my purse from the table after setting the glass down. "Thanks for the wine, Chaisley. I think I'm going to call it a night. Keep the cigarettes. I won't need them. If I do, I know where to find you."
I step over the railing and walk off the balcony. It's time to face the inevitable. "Hey, Lux...."
"Yeah," I ask, stopping when I reach the sidewalk, turning toward her.
She runs toward me and grabs my hand, pressing the tip of a pen on my skin. "I don't usually make friends with my neighbors, because I like my privacy since I work so much, but I think I'd like to hang out. When you're down for a girl's night, text or call me. I have access to some pretty sweet parties in Atlanta," she says as she writes the number on my hand in black ink.
Now that she's in some light, this is the first time I've gotten a good look at her since she started talking. Her hair is blonder than I thought, and fine in texture, piled up on her head, but it can't be much longer than shoulder length. Her eyes are blue like mine, but lighter, much lighter, almost to the point of being colorless, especially against her tanned face, and she's probably around my age.
A drop of water hits my hand as she writes the last digit. I look up at the sky and feel another hit me in the face. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks. I'm going to get out of here if I want to beat the rain."
"Sure."
She backs up toward her balcony, saying nothing more as I wave her off and follow the sidewalk toward my building entry. The rain is starting to come faster. I take off running, holding my purse over my head as if the small square is going to do anything to keep me dry. The bottom falls out just before I reach the shelter of my building, almost drenching me. I can already feel my hair starting to curl as I open the door and walk toward the stairs.
The elevator catches my attention in passing, causing me to stop. "Oh, what the hell."
I press the button on the wall, shaking the water off as I wait for it to open. I need a hot shower and comfy pajamas I guess. My days of walking around naked are over for now I suppose. Bummer. I like living alone. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with her in a one-bedroom apartment.
The vacant car opens and I step in, before pressing the button to my floor. I'm starting to feel like I need another cigarette with every floor I reach, dreading the inevitable. I haven't seen my mother for more than a few hours at a time since the day I graduated high school, and then it's usually to bail her out of whatever fucked up situation she's gotten herself into.
The doors open on my floor and I step out, tousling my hair as I walk to my door. I grab the doorknob and it turns, confirming that it's unlocked. I open it to a dark apartment, everything seemingly quiet. The couch is empty and my bedroom door is shut. "Great, I guess I'm taking the couch. That fucking figures."
I shut the door and lock it, then walk through the kitchen, tossing my things on the bar, before continuing toward the laundry room, unbuttoning my shirt along the way. When I flip the light on there are clothes speckled on the floor. I pull off my shirt and toss it in the hamper, followed by my wet pants. "Come the fuck on, Katherine. The hamper is right in front of your face. Do not start this shit. I'm not your maid. I may very well be crazy, because I'm obv
iously talking to myself."
Gathering the clothes from the floor, I pick them up and throw them in the hamper, leaving only one. I grab the strap, a piece of lingerie opening up. "Ewww. I don't even wear that shit." I toss it inside, ridding of it.
Chill bumps are starting to appear on my body from being wet, reminding me how much I need that hot shower. "Fuck it. I doubt she'll wake up." Opening the dryer, I dig around in the clean clothes until I find a long tank and a pair of yoga shorts so I can go straight to the bathroom and avoid turning on the bedroom light. With my clothes clamped inside my fist, I round the counter, headed for my door. When I reach it I quietly turn the knob, easing it open in an attempt not to wake her. My eyes have to readjust to the darkness after coming from the laundry room, but as they do the movement of Mom's back catches my eye; her bare back.
"Mom? Are you awake," I ask as I flip on the light. No fucking way. My eyes widen at the sight of my mom riding some guy's cock in my bed. My fucking bed! She just fucking got here today and she’s already found someone’s to fuck her. Who the hell does that? My mom, that's who. She's moaning, acting as if she doesn't even know I'm standing in the room. "Mom! What the fuck?"
The guy switches position, quickly laying her on her back, and then looks at me as he pounds into her relentlessly with his cock. My chest constricts as if someone just hit me with a baseball, knocking the wind out of me. He smiles, that cold-hearted smile, with eyes so dark it's as if he's possessed by the devil himself. I stand here and basically watch my ex-boyfriend, someone I know so well, or at least I thought, drive his dick into my mom’s pussy while he watches me. "Callum," I whisper, as my eyes gloss over.
Do not fucking do this here. You’ve shed no tears for years. Do not fucking start now.
"Hello, Angel." He pulls out of her and stands from the bed, stalking toward me. For every step he takes toward me, I take a step back.
"Lux, you're home," she slurs, stopping me as she turns over on all fours, looking at me as if this is all completely normal. She’s fucked up on something, and because she is a fuck up I have to stand here staring at my mother butt ass naked. Something snaps inside, all of the memories of my childhood coming to the forefront of my mind as if the dam just broke. I hate her. She's never going to change. No matter what I do to try and help her it will never be good enough.
Callum grabs my hands, causing me to jump. He pulls me into the room. I look at him. "Don't fucking touch me, you sick bastard."
He pins my hands against the wall, pressing himself against me. I dodge my hips, but not fast enough. His condom-covered dick, the one just inside of my mother's pussy, presses against me and I break. "Get off me!" I cry. "Just leave me alone, Callum."
My anger becomes more than I can bear internally. The tears fall so fast that I can barely see in front of me. "No, Angel. I'm not waiting anymore. I've waited long enough."
I begin to panic and shove into him, trying to back him off of me, but he uses more of his body strength as if he was holding back before, switching both of my wrists into one of his hands, and then starts rubbing his fingertips down my body, pulling my bra down along the way, exposing my breasts. He places his lips on my cleavage, before touching my tattoo. “This is new.”
I start kicking my legs, but he’s smarter this time, dodging me, and then Mom's hands grab my face, turning it toward her. My cries become louder, more frantic. "He wants you, baby. He promised to give us a good life, to never want for anything. Our days of suffering and sacrificing are over if we do this. We have no choice. We’re a team. You have to do this...for me. It won't last long."
My body stills at the words I've heard so many times, weakening me, instinctively giving in. He slides his hand underneath my panties and cups his hand over my mound, rubbing his fingers between my lips. My eyes close, preparing to make up my own story, letting my mind be happy, even when my body isn't. Her begging, her cons, her using me, I can't do it anymore. I can't fight it alone. There will always be one more time. There will always be one more trick. She'll never love me like a mother should love her daughter. I'll always be her whore that she can pimp out to save her fuck ups, just because she gave me life. Just a pretty face and a fuckable body…because she doesn’t care about the damage she’s done and continues to do to the person that lives inside.
My happy story becomes Kaston and I earlier today, after everything happened. He was gentle, more gentle than he usually is, but not because he was scared to be rough. Instead, it was as if he was just trying to savor the flavor longer. I can still feel the way his lips felt against mine. Sometimes he looks at me...as if he loves me, but is just too scared to admit it.
My eyes open as his finger thrusts inside of me. Mom is still staring me in the face. "She's good," she says.
"I fucking hate you,” I whisper. “The day you made me lose my virginity to a man thirteen years older than me to pay off your drug debt, I realized that I meant nothing to you. When you made me do it over and over again, I knew that I wasn't important enough to be protected, and the day that I found out I was pregnant and you turned your back on me, I knew you didn't love me. The day I gave birth to a stillborn at the age of thirteen, the same day you abandoned me to deal with something I wasn’t mentally capable of dealing with, was the day that I realized you would never be a real mother. That was the day that my love for you became hate. That was the day that I wished I were dead so I could be free of you. Every day I wished you had aborted me. Even back then I felt guilty, as if there were some way I could win over your affection, because even in hate love tries to break through. Asking you here was my last try to win your love, but it was a mistake. I can’t do this anymore. The damage you’ve done to me is irreversible. Today it's not me that I wish were dead, but you."
Callum's hands drop from my body before hers. "What the fuck?"
I never move my eyes from hers. She looks like a soulless woman, but then she always has been. "You don't mean that," she whispers.
"Oh, but I do," I grit out, as the tears slip into my mouth to make room for more. "You may have been raped physically once, but I was raped emotionally most of my life. I'm done with you."
She drops her hands from my face, stunned. I look at Callum with a soaked face from my tears, and more still coming. When it rains it pours I guess… I squat to get the clothes I dropped when he grabbed my hands. His hands are in his hair, pulling in different directions. "Angel.... Please don't run from me. Let me fix this. Let me explain."
I stand and back out of the room, watching his every movement until I reach my purse on the counter. He takes one step and I draw my pistol out of my purse, before shoving it under my arm, load a bullet into the chamber, and then aim it at him. He stops. "It's already been done. Do not fucking follow me," I say in a hushed tone as I bump into the door, immediately grabbing the doorknob with my clothes in my hand, struggling to open it with the fabric slipping in my way.
"It's not in me to let you go, Lux. I need you."
"You have no choice, Callum. Forget I exist."
"It's not possible," he says as I finally get the door open. I back out, closing it behind me, and then take off running down the corridor, pulling my bra back in place as I do. I shove the stairwell door open and never let up as I descend every flight faster than the previous one, finally at the bottom. I can't breathe, but I can't stop.
The tears fall faster than I can wipe them. I trample through my complex barefoot and in my underwear, not caring enough to try and pull my shirt on. I finally make it outside, immediately greeted with pouring down rain. I stop for a second; trying to catch my breath, but then that feeling as if someone is watching me takes over and I take off again. I look around the parking lot, barely able to see from the crying and the rain. My eyes are swollen, it's dark, and I'm scared.
My adrenaline has my heart beating so fast that I can't catch my breath, so I run faster, heading in the last direction I remember coming. "Car, car, where is the fucking car?"
I kee
p running, looking over my shoulder every few seconds. As my head turns I slam into a body and scream, a hand covering my mouth, the panicking cry starting all over. I'm going to die. I'm about to die. Oh, God. I'm sorry. I can't see anything but his hand, wet against my face. My chest is heaving up and down from fear, from lack of oxygen. "Shh. Calm down. It's me, Chevy. Calm down. I won't hurt you."
My cry becomes louder, but instead of being a cry of fear, it's relief, as I sink into his large, muscular chest. The hand across my stomach snakes around to the back as he moves to my side and bends slightly, removing his hand from my mouth and replacing it behind my thighs, picking me up. My hands go around his neck and my head falls to his soaked tee shirt clinging to his chest. I close my eyes. "Please get me the fuck out of here," I whisper as he begins walking through the rain.
A door opens and he places me on a leather seat, securing a seatbelt over me, and then closes the door behind me. I recognize it: his Escalade. I start to crash from the adrenaline spike, exhaustion taking over. Warm air begins blowing through the vents, heating my cold, wet skin. I can't shut the images out of my mind. The wall protecting my mental state came crumbling down from the wrecking ball that just smashed into it. Delirium is setting in. My head rolls toward him. He looks at me, placing a phone to his ear. My beautiful Kaston.
I reach over, touching my fingertips to his face. "Kaston, you're here. You saved me," I whisper. "My killer." I'm slipping into a mental breakdown. I can feel it. I can't hold on any longer, only hearing a few words before everything becomes silent and my world is consumed with one shade: black.
"Kaston, we have a problem. It's Lux. Meet me at your house."
One sentence and everything in my world turns upside down. Nothing scares me, or at least it didn't, until her. That proves that I’m not invincible. I have a fear. That organ that normally resides in my chest cavity just plummeted to my stomach, now floating around among the acid. I can almost feel the erosion as it begins to break down.
Marked Page 29
