“You asshole, I said, NO!” I scream.
He’s folded over, grimacing, coughing, then hollers out, “Fuck, Chloe!”
For a second, I hesitate, worried I’ve hurt him badly. Only for a second because he straightens, glaring at me. Sneering.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, bitch?! Is it money? Do I have to fucking pay you to get your legs open?!”
I step back appalled, grabbing the edge of the dresser behind me. “What did you say?”
“Money, Chloe. How much?! What are your fucking rates?”
My head shakes and my body trembles as he goes on, “What? You didn’t think I knew about your sister? Come on, really? My father told me all about her. Said she was worth every fucking dollar. Figured I’d get a piece of your ass before she turned you out, too. You know, a story to tell all the guys, while they’re paying for your pussy.”
I can feel my blood pressure rising. My skin is on fire from fury. It happens so fast; my conscience shuts off and all I want to do is hurt him. Reaching out, my hand wraps around the first thing I see. The lamp. I swing it, hitting him over the head as hard as I can.
He goes down shaking his head with blood trickling down the side of his face. He’s not out though, he tries regaining his composure to stand and I haul ass out of the room, not waiting a second more.
Running through the hall and down the stairs, I pause, looking for my friends. Any one of them will do, but I don’t see a single one. I need to get out of here. Not wasting another moment looking, I run toward the door, pushing past everyone hanging out on the porch. “SHIT!” I trip over someone’s foot or something and go tumbling down the porch steps, trying to break my fall with my hand. Hitting hard on my side, I lift my hand, looking at it as it pounds from the impact and cuts. I manage to get to my feet with people laughing and some asking if I’m all right. I ignore them all and my injuries, glancing back at the front door. Tristan isn’t there but I am not waiting around for him. Feeling bruised and shaken up, I take off running down the street, not giving a shit about how it looks to anyone.
Exhaustion and the pain from my hip slow me down about two blocks away from the party. I bend over with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Standing, I brush my hair out of my face and lay my hands on my hips looking for signs to tell me where I am. Slowly walking to the corner of the street, I read the crossed signs giving me my location. Needing to sit, I reach into my back pocket, thanking God my phone is still there. Now, to make a call.
I call Hannah first, but she’s not answering. Then I try Stacee and Kim with the same response. Voice mail. My head droops down, staring at the concrete below me. I’m an idiot. I didn’t bring any money with me this time. Hannah was driving. Our golden rule of staying together got completely thrown out of the window. Never again, I tell myself as I dig through my contacts. I would call Jean Paul, but I know he’s working at the hospital tonight. Damn!
I know one person I am not calling. Brittany is the last person I want to see for quite a while after what just happened. Thinking long and hard before I push the button, I take a deep sigh and suck it up. There are no other options. But I’ll be damned if I let him know what’s going on. I won’t give him the satisfaction to tell my sister. So, braving myself, I push the call button.
“Chloe?”
Steadying my voice as if nothing’s wrong, I respond, “Vin. Hey, I was wondering if you can come pick me up?”
“What’s wrong?” he says, getting antsy.
“Nothing, Vin. Jesus. Look, I was at a party and got into a fight with my friend. Not a serious fight, I just didn’t want to stay, and I couldn’t find my other friends. So, I’m a little stranded,” I tell him that last part while rolling my eyes.
“I’m in the middle of something. I’ll have Brittany pick you up.”
“No!” I yell too loudly. “No, Vin, please. I called you, not her. You know how she feels about me going to parties and I’m not in the mood to fight with her too tonight. Please, Vin. Don’t rat me out.”
Begging Vin to go against my sister might not work at all but then again, it might. I heard him the other night while I was locked in that asshole’s trunk. He knows Brittany and I’s relationship is rocky right now. He hates it and it’s one of the things I love about him. He loves the both of us.
“Dammit, Chloe. I hate you putting me in these positions.”
“I know and I’m sorry, Vin, but you’re my guy, too. Who else am I going to call?”
His heavy breathing comes out loud and clear. He really does hate being in this position.
“Are you sure you’re all right? You’re not lying to me?”
Shit! “No, Vin, I really am fine. I promise.”
I lie, but there is no way I can tell him the truth. One, he will definitely tell Brittany, and two, he will kill Tristan. He might deserve Vin’s wrath, but I won’t put Vin through that.
“Listen, Chloe, I really am in the middle of something and unless it’s an emergency, there’s no way I can leave. Give me the address and I’ll get someone to pick you up and before you say anything, I won’t tell Brittany.”
“That’ll work.” Standing up, I tell him the corner I’m at and try to find another landmark.
“Wait the fuck up! You’re standing on the corner of some street?! Chloe!”
“Vin, it’s nothing. Look I was pissed off and needed to get away from my friend, so I just started walking.”
“I don’t like this one bit,” he scolds.
His voice is making me madder. How dare him judge when his own wife stood on street corners.
“Vin? Yes or no? I don’t need any more shit tonight.”
“Stay there. I’ll send someone.”
He hangs up on me and I know I shouldn’t have ended our call like I did. It works out though because if he was the one coming, I don’t know if I could pretend I was fine when I’m truly not. Whoever he sends though, will only see me distraught and not care.
Now to solve some of my other problems. I open my hand and look down at my leg. Making quick work, I go to town using my own spit to wipe off some of the drying blood from the scrapes. Feelings are one thing, showing injuries is another. Next is stretching out my shirt as much as I can, hoping I can cover my popped button and broken zipper on my shorts.
“Please let it be someone who won’t give me a second look,” I plead God with my head raised up to the night sky.
12
Gunner
Returning to Marcus’s garage last night, I fell asleep in Betty like I’ve done so many times before. I needed the old comfort to lull me to sleep. It wasn’t peaceful but it never is. I woke, needing to burn off all my anger from the night before, so I got an early start on Betty. The whole time I couldn’t stop thinking about last night. I had him so close and it was spoiled. I need to figure out a way to get enough time to finish him or decide to just keep following the plan I’ve been working on since the day I saw him. Waiting for the Sterns to give him to me. It’s getting harder, but it’s the smartest move. I just wish they would hurry the fuck up. Shane can say he’s not mine, but I know it’s what Shane has always planned to do. Have me fight the bastard in the circle, but my eagerness has him keeping me waiting. If Shane only knew the truth, he would give him to me now. The truth is not something I’m willing to give, so I’ll wait if I must.