AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s caught in a black substance. I inch closer, until I’m barely a foot away. My gaze moves all over the painting, taking in the strokes, the lines. The way the artist managed to put panic in the bird’s eye.
Who knew birds could panic like that?
I feel it. It’s in my throat, constricting my breathing. My chest is tight. I roll my wrists, just to convince myself that I’m not shackled. Which is a weird impulse to have, isn’t it?
Abusive ex-husband.
I examine the skin on my left wrist. Under the mini spotlights, I feel, Isee, the barest hint of a raised scar.
My body goes cold. The temperature in the room may as well have plummeted.
There’s the same on the other one. A ring around the outside of my wrist, just a little whiter and jagged than the rest of my skin.
“Holy shit,” I whisper.
Bile rises up my throat.
I rush out of Jacob’s bedroom and into my bathroom, my stomach heaving. I make it, kneeling in front of the toilet. I close my eyes as I puke, gripping the edges of the toilet tightly.
When my stomach settles, I brush my hair back. I wipe the stupid lipstick off. I slip into my room and get changed for real, pulling on the most unattractive pajamas I can find. I toss a sweatshirt on over my shirt and head into the living room.
My phone is still on the counter, but I ignore it in favor of the little wet bar Jacob has set up in the corner of the living room. All his liquor and glasses are on a rolling cart, but I gather he doesn’t drink much—judging by the liquid levels anyway.
If I like margaritas, I probably like tequila.
I lift the bottle from the row and pour myself a splash.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter to myself.
Down it goes.
I grimace. It doesn’t tastegreat, but it’s also not the worst thing in the world. I pour myself another mouthful and swig it back. It’s slightly better—and now the heat is diffusing through my abdomen.
Okay.
Yeah.
Another gulp. It goes up my nose a bit, and I end up sputtering and coughing. I take the bottle and my glass to the couch and drop onto it, my head falling back.
Damn Jacob.
“Cheers.” Talking to myself.
By the time the door opens, I’mdrunk. My eyelids are heavy, and I can’t stop tracing the scar on my wrist. Now that I know it’s there, it’s like a fresh wound to pick at.
“Melody?”
The couch moves.
I huff a laugh. “I was going to seduce you, you know.”
Silence.
“In your jersey…” I drop my voice to a whisper. “And nothing else.”
“I would’ve liked to see that.”
“But then I discovered something.” I think my eyes are closed.
