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She’s gone.
She left. Again.
“Goddammit!” She’s gone, and as pissed off as I am—again—I get it.
She deserves the future she wants without me.
That doesn’t stop me from plopping down on the bed that still smells like both of us, but mostly Maggie. The scent of her, of us, invades my nostrils and seeps into the deepest recesses of my mind. I lay there, wondering where she is and what she’s doing.
After a few hours, I fall asleep with images of Maggie invading my dreams. Her smart mouth. Her teasing smile makes it seem like she has an inside joke no one else knows about.
She’s tough as shit, but just underneath is a layer of vulnerability that I find irresistible. Hell, the truth is that I find every fucking thing about her irresistible.
I tell myself that I’ll stop caring about her in time. I’ll stop thinking about her.
I’ll stop wondering what my life could have been if she’d stayed and made a life here with me in Angel Harbor.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-ONE
Maggie
I grunt and groan in pain as I try to turn to my side, opening my eyes without a direct view of the sun. I try to sit up once, but I can’t.
“Shit.” My legs feel trapped beneath something, and I wiggle them loose as boxes and trash bags slowly slide off of me.
I’m in a fucking dumpster. A filthy fucking dumpster.
My legs are sticky and wet from the trash. My head and back have something sticky. Fucking gross. After a few minutes of straining and holding my breath, I manage to grab the edge of the dumpster and pull myself up and over the side, landing on the concrete below with a solid thud. “Ouch.”
I lie there a minute, letting the hot concrete sear into my back to get my bearings and to make sure Simone and the other bitches are long gone. It seems the coast is clear, and I get to my feet, looking around the alley that looks a hell of a lot less menacing in the morning light.
I need to get out of Angel Harbor once and for all, so I turn left out of the alley, remembering that I was headed for the bus station when I got attacked by those fuckin’ bitches.
Did the hotshot kill Simone? Shit, am I a murderer now? I struggle to recall the fight, how I ended up in the dumpster, but all I can remember is that new bitch cracking my head against the curb. Fuck, no wonder my head’s pounding.
I reach back and feel my head and realize I’ve got blood all over what’s left of my hair. I’m a complete fucking mess. My vision blurs, and I slide down the side of a coffee shop until I’m sitting away from the morning sun.
Shit, my money! I frantically pat my pockets and bra and realize I’m not wearing shoes. They took my fucking money. And my shoes.
Powers that be, just take me now. I can’t do this anymore.
The city starts to wake up, and this stupid coffee shop has too many customers. But I’m stuck. I can’t get up.
You know what? I don’t care anymore. I’ve lost Nova, my crew, hell, even Demon. I’m a fucking loser. Tears carve a path down my cheeks as I sit here feeling sorry for myself.
Maggie Leon. Demon’s ex. Bad bitch extraordinaire.
I bet the cops are looking for me. I don’t care. One person I know isn’t looking for me is Nova. And he’s the only one that matters. A few cars drive by, and I turn my head away from the street to avoid the pity in their faces.
I feel a sudden touch on my shoulder and scream so loud my throat burns. “No!” I shout and wriggle and squirm away from the hand on me. “Stop!”
“Margaret! Stop struggling.” A feminine voice stops my panic. I force myself to my feet. I’ve got to get out of here.
I turn and glare at my attacker “Leave me the fuck alone.” Familiar honey-brown eyes hidden behind a pair of expensive red glasses look back at me. She’s wearing black slacks and a white blouse, all of it looks like it costs a lot of fucking money, but she also is the most put-together person I’ve ever seen in my life.
“Sophie? From the clinic?”
She smiles and gives me a short nod. “That’s me. Margaret, right?”
