AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Do you know how expensive these last few months have been? Your eye surgery?”
A surgery that didn’t work because I still can’t fucking see shit through that eye.
“Besides, his family obviously can’t be trusted with money.”
“What?” I pause while opening the door.
“Well, with his parents being in jail, and everything they’ve done …” She swallows and throws me a snooty look. “I honestly believe you should stop associating with him.”
My brows furrow, and my nostrils flare. “After everything they did for us—”
“That is in the past.” She interjects. “We’ve already been grateful time and time again. Enough is enough, and with you acting this way, selling your father’s ring…” She grabs the door before I can throw it shut again. “Nathan Reed is a threat to our family. I need you to kick him out.”
I stare her down just as harshly. “No.”
I get inside, and she sits beside me with indignation marring her face. “What don’t you understand? His family is dangerous. He keeps asking you for money. If we get involved in that stuff, we’ll surely go down—”
“Since when are you afraid of cops?” I growl back.
“Well, I …” She stammers without giving me an actual answer. “I didn’t, I just—”
“Never mind.” I hit the gas and turn out of the parking lot. “I’ll deal with it on my own. Just like I always have.”
“And what about Nathan?” she asks.
“Phantoms stick together,” I reply as we race off. “Always.”
* * *
Lana
I stareat my drink and the bubbles fizzing to the surface, but my mind has gone off somewhere else. More specifically, the Shack and all the dirty things that happened there.
I can still see the dead body in front of me, melting away in that pool of blood while those boys pounded into me.
Vicious.
Heinous.
So fucking disgusting.
Yet my pussy still thumps every time a memory of them using me springs into my mind.
I should not be thinking about this. But why can’t I stop?
“Want a snack?”
I look up and almost jolt up and down from the sudden question.
Jason holds out a bowl of popcorn from which he’s casually taking small bites. “Sweet and salty.”
“Where’d you get that?” I ask.
“Stole it from the kitchen,” he replies casually like it’s the most normal thing to do. “Want some?”
“No thanks.”
He shrugs. “Your loss.” And he flops down beside me on the couch.
