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My mom’s bright blue eyes snap to me as she pulls another drag from her cigarette. The smoke blows from her mouth, and she shrugs. “No.” She turns away, going back to staring at her phone.
“You have to eat,” I sigh, walking into the open kitchen off the living room.
A daughter shouldn't have to do this. I shouldn’t have to take care of my mother like she’s the child, making sure she eats or drinks. Hell, I even check her breathing at night before I crawl into bed to make sure she’s still alive. My fear is one day, I’ll come out here and she won’t be here anymore. Then, I don’t know what will happen to me or Sunshine. I’d be homeless, forced to do my monster’s bidding from the streets. And Sunshine? She’d at least be cared for in the hospital she’s locked in. It’s a future I don’t want to even imagine. As long as my mother is alive, I have a home and so does Sunny. From there? I have no clue.
I lick my lips when a package of donuts looks back at me from the counter top. Something I’ll eat later after I make my mom and I lunch. My stomach rumbles, thanking whichever John stopped by to see my mom, for bringing these donuts. It happens from time to time. They’re probably hoping to get into my good graces. Feed the barely legal adult, then maybe she’ll sell herself, too. Fat chance. I’ve seen what they leave behind after they’re done with my mom. I’m not interested in anything more than the food they leave me.
Most days, it's the donuts for breakfast, but occasionally there is sandwich meat, cheeses, condiments, bread, and potato chips that I know my mother hasn’t bought herself. She barely eats and doesn’t care about feeding me. So, that leaves the other people waltzing into my home.
I spend about thirty minutes in the kitchen making each of us a toasted cheese sandwich and give her a plate. I take mine back to my bedroom without watching to see if she eats. It’s terrible to think, but sometimes I wonder what will happen if she just doesn’t eat and lives on drugs alone. I know her body will fail her at some point. I love my mom; she gave me life—one that started out okay. We were happy, healthy, and then something happened that changed her into the woman she is today.
After eating my sandwich and contemplating the list I’ve made myself for the day, I decide to say fuck it and throw myself back into bed. It may only be three o’clock in the afternoon, but I’ve had about all I can handle today. Besides, the drowsiness that plagued me from the moment I woke up this morning comes back with a vengeance. I might as well sleep the day and night away, ready to start my mission tomorrow—making Jenni my friend.
Standing before my mirror, I sigh, staring over my tired appearance. Twinges of pain spread through me with every move I make. Out of curiosity, I lift my sweatshirt to reveal the bruises resembling teeth marks all over my body; I shudder at the feel of their ghost hands working over me.
Fuck. My soul ignites, coming back to life at the mere thought of my life in those strangers’ hands. What I wouldn’t give to know who they were so we could redo this time and time again. Fuck me and my stupid rules, but that’s how it had to be at the time. No names. No faces. Just meaningless sex. Dropping my shirt, I turn on my heel and stop, frowning when my gaze falls to my much-needed lamp, dead on the floor.
That asshole shattered it to pieces in his anger and then didn’t bother to pick it up. Typical. Shaking my head, I pick up the broken pieces and throw them away. My eyes flick to my nightstand and dread fills me at the prospect of spending my savings on a much-needed lamp. But there’s no other way around it. When the sun goes down, hours from now, I’ll need it to guide me through the night. Nothing gives me more anxiety than opening my eyes and seeing nothing but the darkness of my room.
You can do this. You can conquer the darkness when the sun goes down. Your demons won't be on your ass in the daylight.
I close my eyes, willing the damn memories to fucking leave me alone. But they never do. If it was my monster’s goal to make me remember every piece of torture he did inflicted, he succeeded.
“What did you do, Journey!” her panicked voice echoes in my mind the moment my eyes close. “I’ll make the call. I can’t believe you did that! And to him, of all people. How could you? How could you do that to me?” she hisses, grabbing me by the hair and dragging me out of the room.
Blood.
Red.
It drips off my body.
“What did you do!” she shouts again, tightening her hold.
“What I had to do!” I cry out, shaking my head.
And then, nothing.
It’s just one night. Sure, I could go grab another lamp from the store, but I dread leaving the safety of my room. He’s out there. Somewhere. Ready to grab me and shove me into the basement again. The irrational paranoia and panic have me in a vice grip, constricting my throat. Even though he was just here and gave me a new job. The thought of him sticking me back in the darkness to rot, has me wavering on my feet.
So, instead of looking at my troubles head-on like an adult, I grab my massive headphones and put them over my ears. Avoidance at its best. Instantly, the sounds of Whispered Words and their tortuous melody fills my ears. I don’t know who fucking hurt them, but their new album has me in a chokehold, speaking to me on so many levels. Their rock music helps to drown out my sorrows and chases the ghosts on my heels away.
Without a second thought, I grab the pill bottle hidden in my nightstand and pop three sleeping pills. They're my lifesavers. The tiny, round pills that take me from the nightmares that plague my mind every second while I sleep and eviscerate them. I’m dead to the world once those pills enter my system.
As the pills kick in and the drowsiness takes over, I pull my blankets over my body and settle into the comfort of my mattress. The events of the past twenty-four hours play over and over in my head, haunting me until I’m on the precipice of sleep, teetering in and out. Peace encases me for only a moment.
Nothing wakes me up. Nothing can disturb me.
And that’s just the way I like it.
As Kieran Knight growls in my ears, singing the second part of Roaring River’s Dead End, I fall into a much-needed sleep, ignoring the world and my responsibilities.
Here kitty, kitty. Where have you gone?
I frown, peeking in her window. The guys think I’m out doing some sort of recon. I totally am but of the kitten variety. My aching heart pounds against my ribs when I stand outside her dusty window, watching as she sleeps soundly in her bed, without the blankets covering her body. Her long legs which were once wrapped around my waist, stick straight out, tempting me to lick them again. That needs to change, right? It is a little chilly out here for May. If I’m cold, then she has to be freezing. Right? She really needs me in there to warm her up with blankets and my naked body. I don’t think she’d mind. She seemed to really enjoy our time together, and fuck…there goes my dick getting all hard again.
Time to make my grand entrance.
I rub my hands together before slowly lifting the window inch by inch, cringing when it squeaks the whole time until it’s wide open. I grin. Silly, Kitten. You’re supposed to lock your window every night. Now, the big, bad mafia man is about to infiltrate your space. I poke my head in her window before lifting myself up and climbing in, landing with a soft dismount.
