by Charity B.
Copyright ©2018 by Charity B.
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced by any without approval from the author. Doing so would break copyright and licensing laws.
Editor: Joanne LaRe Thompson
Cover Design: Murphy Hopkins
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Author’s Note
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter One: Gone
Chapter Two: C.D.C.R.
Chapter Three: Gummy Bears
Chapter Four: VHS
Chapter Five: Marvel
Chapter Six: Struggle
Chapter Seven: Message
Chapter Eight: Purchase
Chapter Nine: Slumber Party
Chapter Ten: Drive
Chapter Eleven: Boardwalk
Chapter Twelve: Guys’ Night
Chapter Thirteen: Aslaug
Chapter Fourteen: Remember
Chapter Fifteen: Burn
Chapter Sixteen: Fallout
Epilogue
Cupcakes and Crooked Spoons: Sneak Peek
Sweetened Playlist
Helplines and Websites
Books By Charity B.
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Author’s Note
This is the second book in a trilogy. To understand the story, it is best you begin with Candy Coated Chaos. This novel is considerably darker than the first in the series, so please be prepared for that. Thank you so much for continuing to read. I appreciate each and every one of you. Your love for these books means so much to me.
This story is very close to my heart and I hope you enjoy the journey.
Trigger Warning
This novel contains drug use, explicit sexual content, violence, child abuse, and sensitive subject matter which may be triggering to some readers.
To my husband : You have had faith in me from the very first day. You never once doubted my ability, even when I doubted myself. You’ve made sacrifices for me and my dream and I will always be grateful for that. I love you.
Celebrate your scars, sweet soul. They are a sign you have lived beyond your suffering.
—S. C. Lourie
Saturday, June 6th
ALL THESE YEARS, AND I still hate elevators. The ding of the doors opening makes my breath push out of my lungs as I follow Sasha down a long, white hallway.
Run! Turn around and run, you stupid cunt!
Our footsteps are quiet against the tan carpet, before we stop at a brown door where 13B is written in silver. “Home sweet home,” she sighs.
With my bag over my shoulder and my stomach in my feet, I follow her inside. Her ceiling is high, making her apartment look larger than it really is. Her boyfriend, I mean fiancé—she gets mad if you don’t call him that, is drinking a beer on the couch and watching TV.
Without looking away from the soccer show he’s watching, he brings the bottle to his lips and grumbles, “So what the hell is going on over there, now?”
“Drew,” she snaps. When he finally turns to look at her, he sees me and frowns.
“What’s going on, Sash?”
She walks toward the hallway directly in front of us, and I make sure I am right behind her. This is awkward, and Drew is making me nervous, so I focus on the things around me.
Her living room has lots of decorations on the pale-yellow walls, and there are colorful mix-matched pillows tossed on the couch and chairs. I can feel his glare on my skin, so I avert my eyes to the opposite direction.
The kitchen and living area are one giant room with nothing separating the two spaces, not even different flooring. Her cabinets are light blue with white doors and I like her pink elephant cookie jar on the counter. I think it’s cute and pretty that none of her canisters match. Even the chairs around the kitchen table all come from different sets. This is nothing like Alexander’s house. His house is always so perfect. Everything matches, and Cara Jo is constantly cleaning it.
“I’m gonna show Tavin her room,” she tells him. “Then we need to have a conversation.”
He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t need to; it’s obvious he wants me to leave. Well, that makes two of us. I see her mouthing something to him, out of the corner of my eye, and I want to crawl inside myself and disappear.
I follow her down the hallway that curves to the left, and I’m so grateful to be out from beneath Drew’s view. She opens the first door on the right and momentarily flips on the light.
“Here’s the bathroom. Drew and I have our own so this one’s all yours.” Pointing to a set of glass double doors on the left, she says, “That’s our room, and…,” she turns the knob to the door next to the bathroom. “This is my studio.”
The light comes on and my eyes are instantly pulled to the rolls of fabric that are in every color of the rainbow, stacked along the back wall.
As she walks past me, she takes a cream-colored jacket off a rack and holds it up. “This is from my newest collection. Isn’t it gorgeous?” She spins it around. “Look at the detail on the back.”
I like how enthusiastic she gets about her clothes. Her energy is contagious and I get excited with her. Right now though, I’m struggling to feel anything other than sad and scared.
I smile at her. “It’s beautiful, Sasha.”
Buckets of buttons, zippers, snaps, and ribbons along with scissors and other utensils are organized in containers in the corner. I walk around the table in the middle of the room and stop myself from touching the sheer, blue fabric scraps lying across it.
On her desk is a photo of her and Alexander, and seeing his smiling face makes my heart sting. The bookcase next to her desk is covered in fashion books and magazines, while her walls are lined with photos of men and women in amazing clothes.
“You like my studio?”
At first, I think it’s pride I see on her face, and while I’m sure she feels that too, it’s more than that. She truly cares for all this stuff.
I pull out a long dress with lots of colors and a pretty pattern. “It’s really neat. I wish I knew how to make things like this.”
“Well, now that you’re here, maybe I can teach you,” she offers. It’s fun to learn new things and I rarely get the chance, so while at the moment it’s hard to wrap my head around excitement, if she does teach me, it would make me really happy. She waves at me to follow her. “All right, let me show you your room.”
As we go back into the hall, I see there’s only one door left at the very end. She pushes it open and as the light flickers on, a smile is able to squirm its way onto my lips. It’s the loveliest room I’ve ever seen.
Even though it isn’t as big as the one I stayed in at Lex’s, or the basement at my house, there’s still plenty of space. Paintings framed in pale pink are decorating the walls, and I like the one with the rope swing in the garden, the most. The bed is the same size as the one at my house, and looks soft as a marshmallow with little pink and blue flowers sewn into the blanket. The best part, though, is the window. I like windows. It’s lined in white crocheted curtains and has a seat with a blue and white striped cushion on it.
“There’s room in the dresser and the closet for your clothes.” She pushes open the door to show me all the empty hangers. “I’m going to have a talk with Drew, really quick, and then I’ll go get y
ou whatever you need.” She lifts the side of her mouth in a sad smile and shoves her hands in her shorts pockets. “I promise we’ll figure this out, okay?”
That’s not a promise she can keep, she’s just trying to make me feel better, so I smile back at her. “Okay.”
You deserve everything coming to you.
The door clicks shut behind her and I fall back on the bed as Drew’s yelling seeps through the wall.
“What the hell, Sasha?” I’m not able to make out what she says before he barks, “No, fuck that, I’m so sick of your shit! You didn’t even think to ask me. She’s not our Goddamn problem!”
I sit up and sigh. She’s getting in trouble because of me. Partly, I wish I never would’ve gone to The Necco Room, the night of the Carnival. Then none of this would be happening. Sasha wouldn’t be risking herself or getting yelled at for me, and Lex wouldn’t be sad or angry; he would still be going about is life like he was before I messed everything up.
I’m too selfish to not be grateful for the time I had with him and the friendship I made with Sasha. The problem is, now I know what it’s like. How am I supposed to go back to my life after these last few weeks?
The bed squeaks as I push off it to stand up. I’m wasting my thoughts because none of them matter. I can’t stay here. Things will be better the sooner I go back. I don’t know why I agreed to this in the first place. I can’t let Logan find out about Lex or Sasha, and staying here risks both.
Oh, I feel sick. I rub my stomach before I hoist my bag back over my shoulder and go back into the hall. Taking a big breath, I cross the living room and march right past them arguing, to yank open the front door.
“Hey! What are you doing?” Sasha grabs my arm.
“What I should have done three weeks ago. I’m going home. This was a bad idea to begin with and now I’m making you fight.”
She glares at Drew and grabs my hand to pull me back into the bedroom. Once inside, she shuts the door and combs her hair back with her fingers.
“Ignore him, he’s manstruating. He’ll get over it.”
“It’s not Drew. Me staying here is dangerous for all of us.”
She takes my bag off my shoulder and digs through it before tossing my green shorts and Halsey tee onto the bed.
“Come on. I know you’re worried about Toben, so let’s just start with tonight, okay? It’s too late to figure anything out anyway.”
The tears build up, clogging my nose and I hate that I’m such a baby. “It’s more than only being worried. You don’t know Logan!” I’m yelling and I don’t like to yell, so I force my voice down. “I can’t leave him there.”
She rests her hands on her hips with a sigh. “What are you trying to say?”
“Please, I just need to go see that he’s alright.”
Her face twitches as she bites her lip. “How do you expect me to respond here? I understand where you’re coming from, it’s just too dangerous.”
I’m desperate. I need to know Logan hasn’t hurt him.
“I won’t even get out of the car. You can knock on the door and when he answers, I’ll see he’s okay and then we can leave. If Logan’s car is there, we’ll just keep driving, okay?” I clasp my hands together so she knows I’m literally begging. “Please?”
She drops her head forward and groans. “Will you stop fighting me about staying here if I do this?”
I’m not used to making my own choices. I’m as scared to go home as I am not to. It’s not as if I want to go back, the idea makes the nausea wrap around my stomach like a bow. I just don’t want any of us to suffer Logan’s wrath. Neither choice is a good one. Confusion is one of my least favorite feelings. Ultimately though, the most important thing to me right now, is making sure Toben is safe.
My nostrils flare as I close my eyes and drop my hands in defeat. “Fine.”
Her car slows as we pull up to my house, and I’m relieved there aren’t any cars here. Sasha groans as she opens the door, causing the interior light to turn on.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Her finger is inches from my face as she points at me. “Don’t get out of the car.”
I draw an X over my chest. “I won’t. I promise.”
Please let him answer… Please.
With a sigh, she leaves the engine running as she shuts the door, and walks in front of the car. The street lights are almost blinding, brightening up the whole block, while the houses remain dark, black boxes. The porch light flips on as she walks into my yard. Her pale hair looks so pretty the way it swings back and forth, while she jogs up the steps. She lifts her hand and…dang it!
She’s ringing the doorbell and the doorbell doesn’t work. I don’t think it ever has. I let my forehead slam against the window and I feel like screaming because she’s just standing there. Turning back to me, she holds her arms up in question.
“Knock on the door!”
I imitate knocking and a moment later, she finally gets it. I fall against the seat and watch as the seconds pass by. He isn’t answering. Oh, God, why isn’t he answering? She knocks again and tries the handle. The door is locked, allowing my breathing to slow. The door is only locked when we leave, and I’m not sure if Toben has a playdate tonight or not.
Sasha made me throw away my phone, so if Toben did call me back, I have no way of knowing. He could be with Christopher, or anywhere for that matter. I chew on the inside of my cheek as I turn up the music to erase the quiet.
She makes a good effort at least. She peers in all the windows and even tries to go around to the back of the house. Finally, she gives up and walks back to the car.
“There isn’t anyone in there as far as I can tell.”
Putting on my seat belt, I grumble, “He probably went out. There’s no way to know without my cell phone.”
With a tilt of her head, she raises an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that tone. For all I know, Logan could have tracked you down with it. I did that to protect you.”
Now I feel mean. It’s not fair for me to take my frustrations out on her. She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met and she just did me a huge favor.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. Thank you for doing this. I’m just confused and scared about what’s going to happen. Not that any of that’s your fault…”
She shifts the car into drive and pulls away from the curb. “I know, hon. Well, I don’t know. I can’t pretend to understand what you must be feeling right now, but I do understand it’s a lot. We’ll figure this out, okay?” She holds out her middle finger. “I Sasha swear.”
She grins at me and I return it as I hook my middle finger with hers. I never knew girls were like this. After everything, I can’t imagine not knowing her or Lex. I could never regret that.
Looking out the window, I watch as we pass Toben’s old house. I wish, so badly, he was here.
The walkway lights are blurry and almost look like they’re moving, which doesn’t make it any easier to get to my front door. All that alcohol finally caught up and I think I might puke.
I try to unlock the door and the stupid key won’t go in. Oh…because it’s the wrong key. I fumble through the ring until I find the correct one, finally victorious in opening the door.
As I stumble into the entryway, I look into the kitchen and can almost imagine her standing there with her face lit up in a smile. The house is completely silent besides the clink of my keys as I toss them in the bowl. Finally, I wash the blood off my knuckles while Blind Mag trots in a circle around me. That little fucker is gone tomorrow. Drying my hands, I ignore the loofah with legs and walk toward the stairs. I make it to the second step before she whimpers and her nails begin scratching at the glass of the backdoor. I don’t want her pissing on my floor, so I let her out before going upstairs. As I walk down the hall, I pass by her room.
Her room. It’s not her room anymore.
I must want to keep torturing myself because I push open the door and flip on the light. As I walk inside, the painting fr
om the art fair taunts me, along with the clothes she left in the closet. It feels like she’s going to walk in at any moment. Everything she left is what I got for her. That equally hurts and pisses me off. They were gifts. She either didn’t want the reminder and left me to deal with it, or she never saw them as hers in the first place. I look for the necklace and find it on the dresser next to her cell phone. Picking it up, I spin the carousel. I really wish she would have at least taken this. It always looked so perfect on her.
I despise feeling so weak and pathetic. After Carrie, I swore I would never let another girl make me feel this way again, yet here I am. Looking back, there were plenty of flashing warning signs that something like this would happen. I wonder if she ever once thought about giving it an honest shot at making it work between us. If any of it was real. Was it all some kind of game? I think she always knew she was going to go back, so what was the point?
The chain slides through my fingers as I drop the necklace back onto the dresser and open the drawers. I dig through it for a moment before tossing all the contents on the floor. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. Finding nothing, I walk to the bed and pull off her pillowcase. It still smells like her and my chest burns as I press my nose against it. With a sigh, I toss it back on the bed before walking to the closet. The door rumbles on its track as I push it open and yank the clothes off the hangers, throwing each article over my shoulder, onto the floor.
Halfway through, a flash of bright orange catches my attention, so I push the remaining items to the end of the closet. My jaw drops as my eyes scan over the closet wall. It’s a huge mural of bright stars and swirled lines, warped doorways and twisted, mutilated bodies.
She drew on my fucking wall? Who the hell does that?
I can’t stop staring. It’s bright and sweet, while at the same time, disturbing and haunting. While her artistic style is unique and beautiful, it has always made me feel sad. I snap myself out of it and slam the closet door shut. I cannot believe she did that.
