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“Tattoo shop,” Arrow says with a grin, gently cradling Journey’s head into his chest.
‘A fucking tattoo shop?’ Shepp signs with a huff. ‘This should be good.’ Or bad, depending on how you look at it. Arrow always has something up his sleeve. Crazy. Good. Bad. Whatever it may be.
Looks like we're going to his favorite tattoo shop and branding what’s ours.
Blood pools around me. Tears cloud my eyes.
"What did you do?” Her scream shrieks through my mind, forever imprinting in my mind. "What did you do, Journey?”
What I needed to do.
A gasp tears from my throat. My mind swims in the shadows of the worst day of my life. My fucking heart pounds wildly like an erratic drum, beating out of control.
"What did you do?"
Her scream echoes in my mind on repeat. Fuck. I cover my ears, blocking out the shrill cries. But it doesn't help. She screams in my skull until I want to take a hammer to it and never hear her again.
Her screams haunt me. His taunting laughs and smile follow me everywhere.
No. I grunt, slapping the side of my head, forcing the images away.
A sinking, hollow sensation gnaws at the pit of my stomach when my eyes try to flutter open. They're so damn heavy, the feeling of sand rubs against them, refusing to let them open. I dig my palms into my eyeballs, wiping away the groggy sleep.
What the hell happened? And why do I feel like I got run over by a bus? Like my whole damn body throbs with my heartbeat.
I suck in a breath when I move to my back, staring up at the ceiling of my room. It's white and simple, with large cracks working through the walls. I count them one by one, calming the anxiety bubbling through my veins. Something is off. Something weird has happened between then and now. Every inch of my body aches, especially my…
I sit up with a frantic squeak, looking around the room. My room. My goddamn space. How the fuck did I get here? Wasn't I at a mansion, dressed like a cat? Looking down, my brows furrow when I pluck at the oversized T-shirt and sweatpants. Definitely not mine. Where the hell did they come from? Did I sleepwalk again? Shit. I rub my temple as the memories assault me, bringing it all back like a damn horror show.
I rebelled. Hard. Fast. Taking my body and life back into my own hands. I didn't think of the consequences. Didn't think of the future…
I didn't think at all.
Maybe it was the atmosphere. The party. The three of them. With their hands on me. And the orgasms… God, they were so damn liberating. It was so fucking freeing from the dark prison I'm floundering in. With no end in sight. But how did I get back here?
When my body shifts on the bed, a deep pain erupts from my right ass cheek. What the hell? Maybe I fell? Is that why it hurts so damn bad every time I move? I blow out a breath, shifting the sweatpants over my cheek, and examine myself in the mirror beside my bed. Yup. Right there on my butt cheek is a massive bruise. Maybe I did fall, or maybe it’s a sex trophy like the other bruises I can see forming on my skin.
Shit. I throw myself back onto my bed and stare at the ceiling again. I need Sunshine back. I need her here with me so I can take care of her. So we can leave and never come back. I had one good night, and now, I need to focus on our escape.
Taking a deep breath, I drop to the ground in front of my nightstand and open the bottom drawer. To the naked eye, a bunch of school papers with A’s and A+ sit on top, making one think I’m proud of my accomplishments. Despite being held back my sophomore year and missing a lot of time, thanks to my monster's captivity, I still manage to make good grades and keep up on my work. It’s a distraction, at least.
Under the papers rest my toys, discreetly hidden so no one can find them. A girl has to have some sort of release at the end of a shitty day. And if I wasn’t allowed to find a man to help me with that, I have B.O.B—my battery-operated boyfriend, to lend a vibration or two.
Working my way through the papers, I manage to find the false bottom I created years before and pull out the contents—two thousand dollars I’ve managed to steal and squirrel away, and ten letters I’ve been allowed to receive from Sunny over the past three years. It's the only thing I can save from our interactions. Between rare phone calls and letters, it's all I have left of my little sister.
J!
I love you so much and miss you lots. I know you’re probably worrying about me, but please don’t. I don’t know what’s happening on your end, but I’m finally in a hospital. Not sure where, though. They haven’t told me. But I’ve got fluids and lots of tests coming up. They’re talking about a heart transplant, Journey! Can you believe that? I’m actually going to be okay… I guess since Mom couldn't afford it, he can? I hope you don’t feel guilty for what happened or why I’m here and you’re not. I’m fine, and I hope you are too. I love you a lot! He only gave me five minutes to write this out.
Love you!
Your Sunshine.
I suck in a breath, holding the letter to my heart. Tears threaten to spill, but I hold them back. An ache forms across my chest. I fucking miss my sister. For years, I was the one to take care of her instead of my mom, who'd rather stick a needle in her arm than be a parent. It was Sunny and me. Always. Forever. Even through the heartbreak of her diagnosis. Her heart was failing her, and she needed her first transplant or she’d die. I took her to every doctor’s appointment, trying to find someone to run more tests and give us more answers, but the doctors we could see on our medical card were slim, and the care was even worse. If we had more money, I could take her to see better doctors. If her father had stayed in her life, whoever he may be, then maybe we’d have the child support to care for her.
Or hell, even my father, the rat bastard. I swear, Corbin West is more worthless than Sunny’s father. At least I know who my father is, she never did. Not that it helped any. My dad wrote us off the second he could, casting my mother back to Briar Cove while he went back to his mansion in East Point Bluff, California. For as long as I can remember, I’ve blocked his existence out of my life. If he didn’t want me, then fine. He wouldn’t have me. I’d forge my own way. Fuck him.
I swear the men in my life have done nothing but let me down or taken advantage of me.
