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My mouth tastes like stale vomit, and I raise a shaky hand to my eyes, wiping away the crusty salt from my dried tears.
I roll over slowly, half expecting to see Matt standing in the shadows, ready to finish what he started, but the room is empty. I push myself up and look around. Vomit is drying next to me on the comforter, and I see the stringy white remnant of Matt’s precum smeared along my stomach. I grab a handful of sheets at my side and wipe it away with disgust. I fight against my racing heart as a panic attack threatens to incapacitate me.
“You can fall apart later,” I mutter to myself, knowing I need to get out of here.
Somewhere safe.
My eyes scan the room, and I spot my clothes in a pile next to the bed. My body still feels weak as I pull myself up and rifle through my coat. I fall to my knees with relief when I find my phone in the pocket untouched and power it on.
The screen takes forever to come to life, and I stare at the door the entire time, waiting for Matt to come storming back into the room.
If he finds me again, he’ll kill me.The thought sends more tendrils of panic through my gut, and I take a deep breath to calm myself.
Lincoln knew. He didn’t trust Matt from the start. He wanted me to stay away from him.
Why didn’t I listen?I’m naïve. This is my fault. I need to leave.
I fumble to put on my clothes. My underwear is a lost cause, and I can’t find my bra, but I pull on my jeans and shirt with numb fingers. I push my feet into my Converse, not bothering to tie them, then stumble to the bedroom door.
With sweaty palms, I ease it open and peek into the dark hallway. When nothing moves, I walk as quickly as I can manage toward the stairs. I’m still woozy from the drugs in my system, so my body feels disjointed and lethargic. It’s been a while since I’ve been in Matt’s house, but everything looks the same—wealthy but dated, like their money ran out in the nineties, which is probably true.
I reach the front door without incident and look outside, breathing a sigh of relief when I see the driveway is empty.
He left.
I walk out into the February night, and as soon as my feet hit the pavement, I start to run, pushing my way through the front gate. I take off down the sidewalk and only stop when I get to the park a few blocks away, gasping and panting.
I drop down to the grass, cold dampness soaking into my jeans, and stare sadly at the quiet playground where two little kids once played tag. I kissed him for the first time on the swings. We had a picnic in the grass with wine we stole from his dad’s cellar. The memories aren’t bright and happy like they once were. Now they’re blurry and ash gray. Tainted. This place feels haunted. I shiver.
Everything about Matt was a lie.
With trembling fingers, I unlock my phone and call for help.
LINCOLN
“She’s probably asleep,” Trey says, stifling a yawn.
I growl and throw down my controller. We’ve been home since two, and she hasn’t responded to either of us. Radio. Fucking. Silence.
Trey glances at me. “Do you want to start another game?”
I shake my head.
He takes in my rigid posture as I stare at my phone again, willing her to answer. “You know you can’t really be mad.”
I glare at him. “Fuck, Trey. You think I don’t know I caused this? It’s why I didn’t want her to come out tonight,” I seethe. “I knew I’d fuck it up.” Frustration and impatience make my body feel like it’s vibrating. “I just…I want to know she’s okay.”
Trey told me what she said: that she didn’t want to be my dirty secret, that she thinks she isn’t enough.
She’s wrong. She’severything.I just haven’t told her yet.
“I should have just said fuck it and told her from the start. I waited too long. Fuck my insecurities.” I look up at him, myhands pulling roughly through my hair. “What the fuck do I do? How do I fix this?”
Just then my phone vibrates and Charlie’s name pops up on the screen. I slide the bar and press it to my ear.
“Charlie? Are you okay? I’ve been texting…” I pause when all I hear are her uneven breaths.
“Link?” Her voice is small, frightened.
