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“I thought that girl was going to be a virgin until marriage?”
He smirked, his snakebite piercing glimmering in the low lamplight of the living room. “Yeah, she thought so, too.” Leaning over, he snorted a line with his dollar bill. Sniffing, he sat and motioned to the next row of white powder. “Here, man. You deserve it.”
One line. If I hit it now, my drug test would be clean in two days. I could just avoid Bass for two days. One line would take away these feelings I had of wanting to destroy myself and everyone around me. Or maybe it would destroy me.
Maybe I wanted it to.
ChapterEighteen
ESSA
Slumped on the floor, tears poured from my eyes. I cried because I missed Eli. I didn’t want to. I shouldn’t. When he said he needed to be inside of me, I understood because I felt whole when our bodies were connected, too. As desperate as he was to be with me, I felt more so. Just when I thought I could handle life on my own, his presence made me feel desperate to have my daddy back.
But the man that showed up was not my Eli. Tonight’s Eli smelled of whiskey and stale cigarettes. That man was rough and callous. Was that the creature who murdered my father? The one who was addicted to drugs and alcohol?
There was some part of my Eli still there. I could feel it. I had known him for five years. Eli wasn’t a man to give up easily. He was my hero, and I wanted to help him fight his demons.
How could I justify loving a man who killed my father? I wasn’t delusional. My father was not a saint, but did he deserve to be shot? Why couldn’t it have been someone else who did it? Why did it have to be Eli?
Before I could let that train of thought leave its station, I got a phone call from Johnny. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand and sniffed before answering.
“Hello?”
“Essie, are you okay?” His warm voice held worry.
Why had he called now to check on me? My heart raced with the possibility of Eli running into him and what he may do. “Yeah, why?”
“Uh, Dixson texted me and said he picked up Eli near your place, in the woods behind your house. I just wanted to make sure you’re safe.”
Was I? I didn’t know. If that Eli came back here to see me, would he hurt me? I didn’t think he would... Johnny jumped in quickly when I took too long contemplating a reply.
“I’m in your neighborhood. I’m stopping by.”
“Um, you don’t have to.” Not wanting him to see my just-fucked look, I hurried to the bathroom to check myself over in the mirror. My blonde hair was in tangled knots and the mascara I had been wearing was running down my cheeks.
“I’m almost there. I’ll see you in a minute.” He hung up. I scrubbed at my face and quickly brushed my hair before applying some lip gloss. There was a knock on the door, and I ran through the living room to answer it.
Johnny strolled in and shut the front door, then put his hand on my cheek. I leaned into it. The affection soothed me. After what just happened, maybe I needed the closeness. Eli hadn’t even kissed me.
He was dressed in a tight white T-shirt and blue jeans, brown boots on his feet. His hair, as usual, was styled perfectly. As he leaned toward me, his sandalwood scent invaded my nose.
“You’ve been crying. He was here, wasn’t he?” I nodded. “That motherfucker. Did he hurt you? Do I need to call the cops?”
“No. It’s okay. He just wanted to… um, talk.”
Johnny wasn’t buying it. “I’m sure he did.” He walked around the living room, searching for something or taking inventory of the positions of the furniture. Turning back to me, he said, “Well, you look like you could use a friend. Want some company?”
I really didn’t. I wanted to go to bed immediately and sleep the rest of the night away, but before I could protest, Johnny grabbed my hand and pulled me into the den. “Come on. Let’s watch these.” Holding up a box of DVDs for the showAngel, he shook it lightly, showing it off while flashing his white teeth.
I forced a small smile. “Okay.” I didn’t really feel up to it, but maybe the normalcy of watching a show was what I needed. “I’ll make some popcorn.”
Johnny had been a good friend and had helped me so much. It would be rude to tell him to leave. He was becoming a regular at my house, always wanting to watch a show or just hang out. I sneaked off to the kitchen to microwave a bag of popcorn and fill two glasses with water.
When I returned to the den, Johnny motioned for me to sit next to him on the couch. When I did, he threw a crochet blanket over us and pulled me to his side, throwing his arm around me. He placed the bowl of popcorn on his lap.
During the first episode, Johnny seemed to relax his body more on the couch. At one point, he played with the ends of my hair, tugging on them gently. Biting my lip, I contemplated how to get him to stop. When I glanced up, he smiled at me. “Sorry. Does that bother you? You have beautiful hair, pretty girl.”
When I turned to watch the TV again, trying to ignore what had just happened, he let go of my hair. What was happening here? Before I could ask, he spoke.
