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Chapter Two
Bree
Thump.
Thump. Thump.
No matter how loud I turn the radio up, I can’t get the sound of the bed thumping against the wall out of my head.
Thump.
Thump. Thump.
Like a cursed melody, it haunts me, chasing me across the des
ert.
Blindly reaching for the dial, I crank it over to a rock station. Heavy bass begins to rattle my car, and as the singer begins to shriek like a demented banshee, my head begins to ache so bad I can no longer hear the rhythmic banging of headboard meeting plaster.
The relief is only short-lived though. I can’t even make it to the end of the song before I’m forced to turn the radio off so my throbbing head doesn’t explode.
Silence fills the car and I focus all my attention on the road stretching before me, urging the memory to stay back.
To give me a few minutes of peace.
Please.
But my asshole brain drudges up the scene, forcing me to watch it all again. To face it. To process it.
To experience the consequences of my choices all over again.
Thump.
Thump. Thump.
There’s a mirage on the horizon, wavering in front of me. But instead of an oasis beckoning me, I’m watching myself open the door to my apartment.
At first, I was completely oblivious, focused on grabbing the bag I forgot.
But then that thumping drew my curiosity.
Part of me knew what it was… what it meant… It was something straight up out of a bad movie, but I had to see it with my own eyes.
I doubt I’ll ever forget the feeling I had when I opened the door to my bedroom.
Or the sight of Tristan’s bright white ass clenching as he pounded himself into my best friend Ashley.
I should have been upset… angry… hurt… devastated…
But all I felt was relief.
Relief that it was all finally over. The house of cards I’ve been struggling to hold up for so long was finally crashing down.
The truth was finally coming out into the light, overshadowing all the lies.
I tried to sneak away before they could see me. To make a clean break.
But then Ashley had to screech in surprise, and that… that fucker had to notice me.
