AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“To come rescue me,” she mumbles, then flicks the smoke out of the car. It hits the Boulevard with a bounce, red sparks dancing for the smallest of moments before they leave it behind.
His voice is dark, “Isn’t that what I just did?”
“You always do,” she sighs.
There’s always him. Always him to call on, to lean on. Even at her absolute worst, she can rely on him.
Fuck, even murdering someone, he supports her.
Why?
He should just bail on her like her mom did. See how worthless she is, walk away and never look back.
“You want me to stop?” he snaps. “Leave you to rot in the drunk tank, leave you after what you just saw? Are you fucking kidding me, Billie?”
Her stare darkens, aimed ahead at the road.
She is silent.
And she’s silent all the way to the trailer park.
Preston doesn’t try to break the quiet between them, and even up to the point that his Cadillac rolls to a stop at her trailer, they stew in rising tension.
Simply put, Billie’s pissed the fuck off.
With each second that ticks by, her anger is building, stacking like a game of Jenga. Because who the hell isheto be angry ather? She just saw one of her friends hanging from a damn ceiling, andheis pissed ather?
Her frustration boils over when he puts the car in park.
She elbows the door open, clammers out, then slams it shut so hard that Preston’s shout is drowned out by the bang.
Billie just flips him off as she storms up the porch-steps, then boots her way inside the unlocked trailer.
But she’s just two steps in the trailer when she hears the bounding sound of his footsteps come rushing up the porch.
“Fuck off!” she shouts and kicks the door shut.
It doesn’t shut.
Preston hits the door back before it can close in his furious face. It smacks into the wall with a crash and shudder as he steps inside—then he reaches out for the door handle and slams it shut behind him.
Tightening her grip on her stupid, fuzzy handbag, Billie shrieks an intelligible sound, maybe meant to be a word, an insult, but all it comes out as is a frustrated scream—like a child’s tantrum about to light up.
“Get the fuck out!” Billie marches towards him and, just as he lifts his arm to protect his face, she brings the handbag down on him, hard. “Get outttt!”
Before she can hit out at him again, he twists his arm around and snatches the bag strap.
Pits of pure abyss, black holes from the darkest and deepest part of space…his eyes. They watch her from beneath low lashes, and she senses the tingle of danger run up her spine.
She fights the tremble.
Billie stands her ground.
“You’re a real bitch when you’re sober,” he spits at her, lips twisting with the disgust that alights his black eyes, alights them into pits of tar under moonlight. “Why don’t you just fix yourself a fucking drink already? We both know that’s all you really want… that’s all you can ever fucking think about.”
With that, he yanks the bag strap, hard. Hard enough that—with her hand still fisted around it—she nearly topples off her feet.
She staggers a step or two, then rights herself with a glare his way.
