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It didn’t matter how far I ran or if I ran using every ounce last ounce of my energy. I could run from my past. I could run from the things I had and had yet to do. I could run from the illusion of the woman I’d try to portray to everyone. I could not run from him or the sick bitch inside of me I was finally getting acquainted with.
One went harmoniously with the other.
I didn’t voice any of that, though. I allowed him to believe whatever conclusion he wanted, let him think I ran because I was unable to handle this side of him.
He made a humming sound in his throat and walked off without looking at me once. “Bring your ass on.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I stared up at the starless sky and expelled a deep breath before following him.
When I caught up to him again he had the passenger side door open and helped me climb into the jeep, still not looking at me.
Arlen gave me a weak smile from the back seat. My eyes floated over her shoulder to where a blonde sat with her head on her knees. I didn’t bother asking what they were doing with her; I didn’t care.
“Your friend’s riding in the back,” Romero said once he was back in the driver’s seat.
“That girl is not my friend.”
He started the Jeep and pulled off, driving around a stick in the middle of the lane that had the goat head staked on top of it.
It wasn’t until I heard the screams five minutes in that I understood what he meant. Simon was riding in the back. Romero was dragging him behind the Jeep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
He pushed the speedometer to seventy and kept his dark gaze trained straight ahead.
I could partially see Simon in the rearview mirror trying to keep his head up, being brutalized by the asphalt.
“Who is he?” he asked me, speaking just loud enough I could hear him over Simon’s screams.
“I don’t know, but you’re going to make a mess,” I replied flippantly, twirling a strand of hair around my finger.
“You fuck him?”
“What?” I started to laugh. “Are you for real?”
“You think this is funny?”
“You’re jealous because I may or may not have fucked that guy, but I’ve fucked lots of guys. I’ve fucked my dad, my uncles, and I was kinda-sorta fucked by my baby brother. I’m a real bonafide whore.”
“Cali,” Arlen choked from behind me.
“Don’t feel pity for me. I’ve had as many cocks between my legs as I’ve had in my mouth. Oh, and a few women got the VIP treatment too, so no one was left out.” I forced another laugh and looked down at my lap, clasping my hands together.
Romero sharply swerved after a minute, sending Simon’s body to the far right. The chain around his ankles snagged as his head hit a culvert and detached from his body.
Quietness settled over the jeep.
I had no desire to see what was left of Simon’s body. As soon as we were back at the warehouse, I was out of the Jeep and darting inside.
“Don’t ever fuckin call yourself a whore again.”
I paused on my way to the kitchenette.
“And here I was, thinking I was your special whore now.” With a sigh, I resumed walking, adding a little skip.
He came up behind me and spun me around. “What the fuck did I just say?”
“I think I forgot already. Will you repeat it?”
