Page 27 of Trailer Trash

Why do I even care about this girl? She’s so different from when we first met. At least she smiled then. Held my hand. Was human. This is a joy-killing robot. Maybe I should quit the chase. Getting close to her will take forever and—

She grabs grocery bags and loads the haul.

“Wait, wait, wait. What are you doing?”

“Let’s dispose of it,” she says.

My heart stops. “Dispose of?”

“Yes. We’ll figure out the legal way. Your dad must have smart lawyers. They can handle it.”

I mumble, “Yeah,” but I lose myself as tunnel vision sets in, unable to tear my eyes from the bags.

My drugs. My emergency stashes. I was gonna be clean until... I don’t know. What am I supposed to do now? It’ll all be gone.

I’m sweating and breathing shallow. I’m spiraling.

“Uh, no,” I mutter.

I stare at the ceiling, trying not to panic.

Suddenly, I flinch when my wrist moves.

I glance down. Her soft palms cradle my hand, and she gives a gentle squeeze.

“Killian, I am really proud of you for doing this. I bet this is difficult.”

She has no idea.

But I don’t say that.

I don’t say anything. I can’t. My stomach is knotting so hard, I’m nauseated. I want to race around her and snatch the bags, lock myself in the bedroom, and smoke or snort it all.

“Hey,” she whispers.

I force myself to look into her big stupid eyes.

She hesitates, then slowly extends her arms and...

She hugs me.

“You will be okay, I promise.”

It isn’t intimate. She holds me carefully, like kindness is something I might mistake for flirting. But it’s something.

This is what I wanted. She’s touching me again, like in the hospital. If this is what being good gets me, maybe that’s her weak spot. I don’t know why it matters. She’s just another girl... God, she smells good, like cinnamon and vanilla. Her body is soft.

But this is serious.

My mind fixes on one thing that makes me feel better than her touch: drugs.

As my heart rages in my chest, I pry myself from her hold and step back, dragging both hands through my hair.

“Look, Harlow. Thanks, but I don’t know if I can do this.”

I expect a snarky comment, especially from her. She delivers something much worse.

“You found where I lived. You forced your way into my life. You know exactly how to make things happen when you want them badly enough.”