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My sister is still missing. Fact.
My best friend is helping to traffic men and women and facilitating their deaths as well as rapes. Fact.
Mason Carpenter is the only person I feel like I can really trust in this world.
Unfortunately, fact.
I can’t help but feel like this is only borrowed time with him. Like he’ll wake up tomorrow and decide I’m not worth the trouble. That Missy’s only going to get what she deserves because, let’s face it, she’s an asshole. Even if the rumors aren’t true, she still wouldn’t be a good person underneath it all, and for most people that’s enough to give up.
I’m not that smart.
I should walk away. Count my losses and cut contact with the entire state of California. Maybe somewhere across the world. Maybe somewhere tropical. Somewhere no one would think to look for me so I could live out my days in undefined peace. Away from my mother. My sister. Michael.
Mason . . .
For some odd reason, Mason hurts.
Maybe it’s just the way he can make me come like he was born to do it or maybe it’s because, try as I might, I can’t stop the tightening in my chest when I see him. Or the way I could listen to him talk in that deep voice for hours. Or the way his eyes make me feel like I’m the only woman he’s ever seen.
Either way, it can only end one way. He ghosted me once and even then I thought maybe he was just afraid of his own feelings. Maybe my mother scared him off or maybe he was just busy when he didn’t show up the day he said he would.
The next day came and went, though. Then the next and eventually, I started to understand in the back of my mind that hewasn’tgoing to come back because I was nothing more than a passing moment for him.
A girl with baggage and a dangerous sister.
Mom was right.
He doesn’t even like you. He just wants what’s between your legs.”
And that’s the big joke, isn’t it?
Girl likes a guy. Guy decides she’s not good enough or is too boring. Maybe she won’t let him try anal with her or maybe she’s not into whatever the next girl is.
Next girl is exciting. Next girl is carefree and fun. Next girl won’t complain or ever have a normal human emotion becausenext girlis perfect.
Next girl isn’t real.
Still . . . Current girl loses. Next girl always wins.
It’s smart to stay unattached. Uncommitted.
I just wish I could follow my own advice.
Thunder rolls off in the distance as I watch the window beside me light up with lightning.
I hate storms. I always have.
They remind me of that dark place.
Unease stirs in my chest, but I ignore it, closing my eyes and forcing myself to try and fall asleep. I have to work tomorrow and after our late night, I’m betting I’m going to be exhausted by the time Mason and I get home.
I’m almost asleep when another strike of lightning hits, this one a lot closer. My eyes pop open with the thunder that rumbles the house and I stare around my room as if it will manifest into my darkest fears.
And then . . .
The fucking power goes out.
The house is thrown into darkness and for a moment, I just lay there, heart beating loudly in my ears.
