Ria scrunches her nose. “No wonder he’s still single! No offense, Princess. I can’t believe you agreed to date him after hearing that.”
“I was nineteen,” I say, trying to defend myself. “And he was a dangerous, good-looking bad boy. He could’ve just growled, and I’d have said yes.”
“Damn, that’s true,” Ria mutters, throwing a glare at Tank.
“Ah,” Mindfuck sighs, “to be young, dumb, and full of cum. Those were the days.”
“You’re still dumb and full of cum,” I grumble, grabbing little Gary from Ria and heading into the clubhouse.
‘You’re strong.’
‘You’re smart.’
‘You’re wanted.’
‘You’re not alone.’
I’m sitting on my bed in my room at the clubhouse, holding the four notes. I’ve been staring at them for at least half an hour.
Every morning, one of these was on the counter at my bookstore. And every morning, before I leave the clubhouse, he says those exact words to me. It’s only been four days, and I already feel like I’m addicted to this shit.
What the fuck is he trying to do?
I haven’t asked him. Haven’t called him out on his bullshit once. I haven’t even told Ria or Temperance about this. I don’t know why. It feels like I’d be betraying a secret of the soul.
I just kept playing pranks on him. Stupid, childish pranks.
I don’t know why I’m doing that either. The glitter was supposed to be the first and last one. But then he smiled. And I wanted to do it again.
What the fuck am I doing? I’m losing my mind. Completely. I can’t let myself fall like this. Not again. I need to remember his lies. His cruelty.
Instead, a different cursed memory slithers inside my mind.
…
“Ms. Evans, you testified that you saw Mr. Zayas sell cocaine to an unknown man around ten PM on August eighth. Correct?” the lawyer asks, her tone matter-of-fact.
“Yes,” I say, not looking at her. “That’s correct.”
My eyes are glued to Dominic. Memorizing the shape of his lips, the wild strands of hair brushing his forehead, the sharp edge of his jaw. He was thinking about growing a beard. I would’ve loved to see that.
He’s wearing a suit, and it looks wrong. Leather always looked good on him. Like he was born in it.
“Ms. Evans, on the eighth of August, between nine PM and midnight, you were actually alone with Mr. Zayas at Sunset Peak Lookout. Correct?”
It is true. But I can’t say it.
Dominic’s eyebrows twitch. His eyes haven’t left me for a second since the moment I stepped into this courtroom. I watched the hope drain from them just a few minutes ago. And I see it now — he already knows what my answer will be. Why isn’t he looking at me with hate? I can’t stand the grief and defeat in his eyes.
“No,” I say softly, leaning closer to the microphone in front of me. “That’s not true. We were alone until around ten PM. A man came and bought cocaine from him. He left a few minutes later.”
I’m sorry, Dominic. I wish I could see you smile one more time.
…
Fuck! I didn’t need that memory. Not now.
It’s only been a week since we came face to face again, and he’s already creating cracks.
