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I want to watch you pay for what you did.
Letting out a frustrated scream, I throw the phone across the room. There is a loudthudas it hits the wall and falls on the floor.
Jumping to my feet, I clench and unclench my fingers, feeling the itching growing underneath my skin as I look around the room. It feels like the walls are closing in on me, making it difficult to breathe.
Out.
I need to get the hell out of here.
Not bothering to change, I go for the door, slipping on my sneakers before I dash out.
My gaze darts to Penelope’s door for a split second, but I shake my head, and go for the stairs, taking two at a time and getting out of the building.
Since it’s late September, the sky is already dark, and a chill in the air signals fall is here.
A shiver slides through me, but I shake it off, going into a run. Maybe if I go fast enough, hard enough, I’ll be able to escape the messages I’ve been getting. Outrun the memories from this spring.
My feet pound against the ground as I eat the distance, with no specific place in sight. My breaths start coming out in short pants quickly, but even that doesn’t stop me from pushing harder. My shirt clings to my back as sweat starts forming on my skin.
I run and run and run until my lungs are burning so hard I can’t breathe any longer.
Coming to a stop, I lean forward, my palms pressing against my knees as I suck in short gulps of air, my lungs straining with the effort.
What would people say if I sent those photos to the press? I’m sure your fans would love to know their favorite star is a killer.
He wouldn’t do it, would he? Was it even a he? I didn’t know how this was possible. How did that person, whoever the hell they were, get their hands on those photos? Who took them? How did I not know about it until now? And what the hell did this person want from me?
I want to watch you pay for what you did.
I was already paying for it. In every sense of the word possible. I don’t think I’ll ever stop, ever be able to forget.
Soft whispering has me looking up and taking in the space around me. While I was lost in my own head, I’ve come all the way to Moore’s. Loud music is coming from the inside, but there is nobody standing in front of it.
Great, now I’m also hear—
But before I can finish that thought, my gaze darts toward the dark corner, and two figures standing there. They’re both dressed in black, almost blending with the shadows. The hair at my neck prickles as I watch the exchange. One of the guys slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, and I know what’s happening even before the other guy grabs it and takes out a baggie.
I’ve been a part of that exchange way too many times to count in the past.
The guy gets out from between the shadows, slipping his hand with the merch inside his pocket as he makes his way into the bar, but my attention is still on that dark corner of the street and the guy standing there, holding everything I need, and then some.
Is this why I came here? Did my brain bring me to a place where I’d find a way to silence my thoughts?
My palms turn sweaty, my mouth dry as I just stare at them. My heart kicks up a notch, and this time it has nothing to do with the exertion and everything to do with what’s in front of it.
The possibility of oblivion is so fucking close that I can practically feel it.
It would be so easy. I wouldn’t even need to go for the hard stuff. Maybe just a little bit of weed. One joint. That’s all it would take for this pressure to lift off my chest and…
No.I dig my nails into my palm, letting the bite ground me.You’re not going back—no more.
My whole body shakes as I turn my back on the interaction and start running. This time I don’t stop until I’ve put enough distance between me and the temptation—which is just an excuse. There is no stopping the temptation. Not now, not ever. Not really.
I knew what I needed to do, where I needed to go.
You can do this on your own, a stubborn voice insists, but this time I knew better.
