by L. P. Maxa
“Careful, princess, I’m about two seconds away from taking you upstairs and teaching you a lesson.” His smile was playful. To anyone else it would look like he was engaged in playful banter with his GF. But he and I knew different. We were in a constant power struggle, in a constant sick game of who had the bigger dick. Let me save you the curiosity—it was me.
I let out a little laugh. “Not yet, I just got here.” Translation, Not yet, I’m not nearly high or bored enough to let you fuck me.
“Mmm, and where’ve you been, princess?” That’s what he called me, always.
Part of me wanted to tell him the truth, that I’d been at dinner with Nicky. But he was already going to be pissed enough when he found out that I’d gotten a second tattoo. He wasn’t a huge fan, and I didn’t feel like dealing with two separate toddler tantrums.
“I got another tattoo this afternoon.” I smiled wickedly, because part of me loved fucking up his perfect world. I kept my eyes on him, taking in the way his nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed slightly as I lifted my shirt, showing him the fresh ink.
He wanted to yell at me. I could see it in the hard set of his mouth. He wanted to fight, and then he wanted to make up. It’d give his small brain the excuse it needed to be demanding and rough.
“Our little rock and roll princess.” He shook his head, a fake smile on his face as he kissed my temple. “It looks good on you.” He was lying. He hated it, which made me love it all the more.
I downed my drink when Collin’s hand found my ass, giving it a tight squeeze. I wasn’t in the mood to play pretend with him tonight. I’d been a long day, a draining day. I laughed, shaking the glass in the incoming sophomore’s face, signaling I wanted another.
I took my new drink and walked away, polishing it off as soon as my back was turned to my fake friends. And my asshole of a boyfriend. I headed to the patio, to another bar and a different bartender. I knew Collin would follow me.
Fuck, they’d all follow me.
I was Evie James.
Chapter Twelve
Evie
Four drinks and two hours later, I was still couldn’t shake my irritated, cranky mood. Maykin had disappeared to fuck knows where and Collin was all over me. I knew he was mere seconds away from demanding some attention. I hated sleeping with him. It was duty, not love, hell, not even like, and it made me feel like vomiting. To top it all off, he was shit in bed. Selfish and incredibly uncoordinated.
“Would you stop slobbering on my neck?” I shrugged away from him, not caring one little bit about the anger lighting in his eyes. I could handle him; his bark was always so much worse than his bite.
“What’s with you tonight? You’re being more of a bitch than usual, princess.”
His words were whispered harshly against my ear. Anyone watching us would think he was being flirty, being a guy who wanted his girl. “I’m not in the mood for your shit.” I turned to look at him, putting my hand on his cheek to keep up the constant charade. “Not tonight, dear.” I said it sadly, like a bored housewife. “I have a headache.”
His nostrils flared—that was his tell. The one outward sign that he was losing his cool. Not that I could really blame him. I was his girlfriend, and I was being a bitch. But he didn’t love me any more than I loved him. He was simply more caught up in the lie than I was. “If you aren’t spending the night, I’m finding someone else to take care of this.” He pointed down to his dick and I barely stifled a laugh.
“Have fun.” I raised an eyebrow, a sassy smile on my face. “Wear a condom, and keep it quiet.” I couldn’t have people think that anyone would dare to replace me.
“Fine,” he grit out. “Call you in the morning.” He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on my cheek, all the while his hand was squeezing my wrist hard enough to leave a bruise. “We have brunch with my parents on Sunday. Wear something that hides all your tattoos, princess.”
“Of course, dear.” I rolled my eyes and got to my feet. I’d play my part. I’d channel a little bit of the old Evie. I’d be polite, kind, and pleasing. I’d dazzle them with my charm and my brain, all the while I’d make sure I resembled a fiancée that would look good in the wedding photos.
I headed toward the front door, nearly drooling at the thought of stepping alone into the warm, dark night. “Where’re you going, Evie?” I was almost there too.
I hung my head for a brief second with my hand still on the doorknob. “Home, Chasity.” I turned around, eyebrow raised as if to say What the fuck do you want?
She crossed her arms over her large chest, fake and a full D, her hip jutted out slightly. “And leaving your poor boyfriend alone here with all the underclassman circling like sharks?”
I schooled my facial expression into one of contempt and annoyance. “Did you need something?” Or are you simply in the mood to get yelled at? I was starting to come down from the Adderall, and I could already feel how bad this crash was going to be. I’d taken too much today, ignored my stomach for too long before eating. Plus, I couldn’t really recall the last time I’d had any water to drink. Only vodka.
“Nope. Wanted to make sure everything was okay between you and Collin. You guys seemed intense back there.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, an entirely fake yet concerned smile on her face.
“We’re fine, Chasity.” We’re as fine as we’ve ever been, anyway. “I don’t feel well, I’m going to go lie down.” And pop two Vicodin and chug the largest bottle of Smartwater known to man.
“Do you need me to drive you back to the house? I can’t believe Collin didn’t offer.” Her eyes were searching, looking desperately for a chink in my armor. For a flaw in my outwardly flawless life. Chasity was the worst kind of fake friend: nice to your face and on her knees praying for your demise behind your back. She wanted my life, but little did she know that was something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
“No, thank you though.” I sent her a fake smile to rival her own and then left the party before she could say another word. I walked with my head held high down the front walk, winking at a few people on my way out.
Always leave them guessing, always leave them wondering where you’re going. For all they knew I was headed to another party, a better one. And I can garun-damn-tee you that they’d give their left nut to come with me. Once I was out of eyesight I dug in my bag, pulling out my pill bottle. I stopped under a street lamp and poured the contents into my hand, riffling around, looking for the oblong white ones I knew I so desperately needed.
No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be right. I’d had two more left this afternoon. Hadn’t I? I took one before the tattoo parlor…but I could have sworn that I’d had more in the bottle. I never let myself run out, never. My hands started to shake as I put the pills away. Tears pricked the back of my eyes. What the hell was I supposed to do now?
I couldn’t go back in there and ask Collin for something to help the crash. I’d have to stay. Which meant, I’d have to stay the night with him. My stomach rolled at the thought. No. That wasn’t an option, not now. The tattoo, seeing Nicky, it’d done something to me. I couldn’t be part of my fake life right now. I couldn’t handle it. Nicky had made me weak, he’d flayed me open and now all my nerves were exposed and I couldn’t seem to function.
He did this to me.
And he was the one who was going to have to deal with the fallout.
You reap what you sow, believe me.
Chapter Thirteen
Nick
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And believe me, I’d fucking tried. She walked away from dinner about three hours ago, but she’d been on my mind ever since. Part of me wanted to go look for her, part of me wanted to call my uncle and have him get her dad up here to deal with her ass. Evie James was in a world of trouble, and I doubted she even realized it.
There was this gnawing ache in my chest that I couldn’t explain away as anything other than concern. The girl I’d spent that one amazing night with was gone, and in her
place was a pill-popping mess. And it hurt. I hated that I cared the way I did, I hated that she still had a hold on me. I’d been unable to turn her away two years ago, and I’d been unable to do it again today.
My cell started to vibrate in my pocket and it took me a second to fish it out. “Bleu. What’s up, man?” Thank god. I could use the distraction.
“Where you at right now?”
I looked down at my dog, a giant pit mix, smiling at her like a proud parent. “Taking a nighttime stroll down Greenville with my favorite girl.” And trying like hell to get a certain long-legged disaster out of my fucking messed-up head. “You closing up shop?” Bleu worked the late shift tonight. We switched off every other Friday. “You want to meet for a drink?” I turned around, hopeful, and headed back in the way we’d come.
“I think you need to get down here, bro.” He paused for a second, like he fumbled the phone or something. “That chick you inked earlier is back, and she doesn’t look good.”
“Evie?” What the actual fuck? I took off in a jog, Ollie playfully bouncing beside me, happy to be running.
“Yeah, she came in about five minutes ago, asking for you. I told her you were off tonight, and then all of sudden she started shaking.” There was another pause. “I don’t know if I should put a drink in her hand or call an ambulance, but either way she seems real fucking pissed.”
“No. No drinks.” I answered quickly. She most likely had too much in her system as it was. I knew she’d headed to that party the second she’d left me at dinner. So now there was no telling how bad off she was. “I’ll be there in three minutes.”
I made it to the shop in two. Evie wasn’t my problem, and maybe if I reminded myself of that every thirty seconds it would finally fucking sink in. Until that happened, though, I’d make sure she didn’t slip into a damn coma.
“Hey. What’s going on? Are you okay?” I hated how worried I was. I hated the fear in my voice. I’d spent one night with this chick. One fucking night two damn years ago. Why was I instantly so tangled up in her like no time had passed at all? Like I hadn’t woken up to an empty bed and a goodbye note?
Evie stood, her face pale and her eyes dark but hard. “Am I okay? Well. I was okay.” She threw her hands in the air, her thin arms swinging wildly. “Before I walked into this godforsaken tattoo parlor, I was doing just fucking fine. I had everything under control. I had a system. And it worked.” I took a step toward her, and she backed away, shaking her head. “I was fine. I was fucking fine.” Her voice cracked and my heart followed suit. “But then I came in here, and I saw you. And you saw me.”
I knew what she meant. I didn’t simply recognize her; I looked at her. I saw all her fears and faults, all her shortcomings, all her lies, and all her suppressed truths. I saw everything that was wrong in her life, and I brought it to light. And in doing that, I’d fucked her up. She was a shaking hot mess in my tattoo parlor, and she was angry at me. I’d crumbled her perfectly constructed persona and she wanted me to pay. I could see it in her eyes. There were tears, but behind them, there was fucking fire.
Well. Bring it on, little bird.
“It’s my fault, right? You’re here to tear me a new asshole because I refused to let you get away with your rock and roll act. Because I saw what a goddamn mess you’ve turned into.”
“Fuck you.”
“No, princess. Fuck you.” We were toe to toe now, neither of us yielding.
“Nicky, man, come on give her—”
I cut my eyes to Bleu, silencing him with a glare. I had Evie right where I wanted her, and she had no idea. “Your disaster of a life is not my fault. It’s yours. You chose to let this world change you. You chose to medicate yourself into a damn-near stupor. If I cared, even at all, I’d call your parents and tell them to come get your skinny ass.”
That’s what did it; the mere mention of her parents is what broke her. I had an inkling it might. I remember the way she talked about her family, how she and her cousins kept their parents in the dark about every negative thing in their lives. Here in Dallas she could hide how fucked up things had become. She could put a smile on when she Facetimed them, she could email them her good grades and her good deeds. But in person, there would be no denying how bad off she really was.
I caught her when she collapsed, easily lifting her into my arms. “There we go, little bird.” I closed my eyes for a brief second, inhaling her scent. The oranges were still there, but so was the vodka. I whispered against her hair, “Now you can rest.”
“Dude. What the actual fuck just happened?” Bleu was standing to the side, holding a squirming Ollie while she showered his hands with doggie kisses. “Who screams at an upset chick like that, bro?”
“I do, apparently.” I shifted her in my arms. “She’s high as a fucking kite. She needed to crash and I knew if I got her worked up enough, she would.”
“Are you sure she doesn’t need to go to the hospital? Maybe have her stomach pumped?” He released his hold on Ollie and the dog immediately came over to me and leaned against my leg, sniffing at the sleeping girl in my arms.
“It’s too late to pump her stomach. I assume, since she wasn’t coming down well, that she’s out of whatever pain pill she typically takes.” I headed toward the door, Evie in my arms and Ollie trailing obediently behind me. “I’m not coming in the rest of the weekend. If Hawkins can’t cover, close up shop.” I’d call Waylon and let him know what was going on. This location of Revival Ink belonged to me, and I paid him back monthly for it. It was mine to run as I saw fit, but I felt like I owed him an explanation. And to be honest, I needed his advice. Waylon had lived a hell of a life, and something told me he’d know what to do.
***
“You’re a bit of a traitor, you know that? I thought chicks were supposed to be jealous of other chicks?” Ollie sent me a bored look and then closed her eyes again. “There is another woman in our bed. Why are you happy about it? I’m not even sure if I’m happy about it.” She didn’t even bother to open her eyes that time.
Evie had been asleep under my covers for about four hours now, and Ollie had been curled up beside her the whole time. I’d checked Evie’s pulse a few times and it seemed strong and steady. Her breathing was even and she didn’t have a fever. It was simply a bad crash. It made me wonder how many times this had happened before.
Probably not many. I was sure she had plenty of people willing to keep her supply of pills right where she needed it to be. Her damn cell had gone off so many times on the nightstand that eventually, I’d silenced it. Some dude named Collin had texted and called; she had some missed texts from a Maykin and a Chasity. I knew none of those people were her family members, so I didn’t bother making sure everything was okay. She wasn’t at the party, and she wasn’t at home. Either they were worried about her, or they were nosey AF. I didn’t trust any of her friends here in Dallas because every single one of them had let her sink into the half person she’d become.
They weren’t real friends.
Chapter Fourteen
Nick
“Why am I spooning a dog?”
“I was asking Ollie that same question.” I closed my magazine, forgoing the article I couldn’t focus on enough to actually read. “How do you feel?”
“Like death.” Evie moved onto her back, throwing her forearm over her eyes and resting one hand on her stomach. “And like puking.”
I got to my feet, grabbing the small bathroom trashcan and bringing it closer to the bed. Part of me wanted to demand that she use the toilet, but I seriously doubted she was steady enough to manage it by herself. “Here. Try not to miss.”
As soon as I sat it down, she rolled over and threw up. There wasn’t much for her to get out, so she made a shit-ton of that awful dry -heaving sound. “That’s hot.” I held my breath as I walked to the sink, wetting a rag for her to use when she was done, and trying not to gag at the sounds.
“Shut up.” She used the towel and wiped her mouth. Her voice was
rough from sleep and the acidic bile when she spoke again, “What happened?”
“You passed out in the middle of screaming at me.” So I carried you all the way home, inhaling all the orange scent out of your hair. Then I watched you sleep, partly because I didn’t want you to choke on your own vomit and partly because you looked beautiful. “I live only a couple blocks away. It was closer than dumping you at your sorority house.”
“You got a dog.” She reached out and scratched Ollie’s ear.
I shook my head when my rescue mutt’s tail started to thump the mattress in happiness. She loved getting her ears scratched. “Yeah well, some crazy chick I hooked up with once told me a house wasn’t a home without a dog.”
“She’s pretty. She looks a lot like a dog my cousin Landry had when I was little.” She moved her attention to the other ear and Ollie’s tail kept on thumping. “Crash. His name was Crash.”
“Her name is Ollie. It’s short for Olivia.” I shrugged. “I didn’t think Livi fit her.”
“Ollie.” The giant dog licked Evie’s hand, almost as if she was saying nice to meet you. “I love it.”
“Thanks.” I’d like to say that getting Ollie was all my idea, that I’d woken up two weeks after my night with Evie and decided to get a dog on a random whim. But that wasn’t the case. I couldn’t get Evie out of my head. Our night together played on a loop in my brain. Over and over, every time I closed my eyes. The way her body felt underneath mine, the words she spoked. I reread her note on the back of my sketch about a dozen times. Until finally I’d taken her advice.
I got Ollie to see if I could exorcise the long-legged, dark-haired beauty from my mind. And in part, it’d worked, because the tiny seven-week-old puppy needed all my attention.