Page 140 of The Addict

“Uh…I’m sorry?”

Alex made a face and shook his head. “Meaner!” he mouthed.

“Uh…actually, I’m not sorry Alex. I meant everything. I was only using you for my…” I blanked. “For my image!”

Alex’s mouth dropped and he clutched his heart. “You’re image? What about my heart?”

I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t believe this.

“I said,” Alex gestured with his arms, making a big motion, “what about my HEART?!”

I glared at him. He was so fucking dramatic that I couldn’t take him seriously.

Then I thought about it for a moment. I knew what to say now. I was about to put on the award winning performance. And the Oscar goes to…

“Alex, I don’t give a shit about your heart,” I retaliated darkly. “I never did.”

Alex looked stunned. His eyes widened.

“I don’t love you. I don’t love anyone. I could never even possibly dream of loving another person. I don’t even love myself.”

It was dead silent.

“You just got caught in the crossfire. Collateral damage.”

I might have let the moment get too real, because even I was caught off guard by the venom in my words. Alex looked like he was going to cry. Good. I drew back and out of the house, making sure to slam the door loudly for added emphasis.

If Serenity bought it, I wasn’t sure how I’d feel. But I paid my debt and was on my way. What a pointless and bothersome waste of five minutes, when I could have been getting off instead.

Alex was lucky that I cared enough about him to get blue balls.

The fact that I had nowhere else to go but home afterward was even worse. I couldn’t go back to Silas; he was heading out when I prepared to go to Alex. My hands were tied. Home sweet home it is.

A high-pitched squeal greeted me as soon as I opened my front door. With excitement, my mother rushed to greet me. Since David had been working nights with Damian, I had been returning home a little more frequently the past few evenings, so I wasn’t sure why she acted as if I had just returned home from war.

“My baby!” she cried with a smile. Her arms opened to me in a tender greeting.

I made an effort to conceal the petrified expression on my face as I slipped into her arms. “Hey, mom,” I hesitated. “What did you do?”

She giggled and flashed me a paper.

“We’re hosting a party!” She laughed giddily.

I grabbed the paper from her and read:

In reference to HPF companies' recent success, we cordially invite you to:

The Empirical Masquerade.

This breathtaking ball will be held at the Grand Ballroom, in the Hansen Family Mansion, on the night of September 17th at 7:00PM.

It would be of our greatest pleasure for you to attend.

Sincerely,

Mr. and Mrs. David Hansen

“Why are we hosting this party?” I asked, handing the slip back to my mom. I felt the exhaustion just thinking of the formalities I’d have to endure. Damian got crazy about this type of stuff. He really was born for this lifestyle, and me, not so much. Was there really a need for a ball? And in one week nonetheless?