Page 101 of Gorgeous Misery

They taught us to fight and be wicked and wild.

They split us apart to get rid of the child.

I am what’s left of the girl left behind.

I am strong, and skilled, and cunning, and wise.

I will never be weak, I will never deny

That work is my life and my master my prize.

I have words for her words and here they are:

Nasty, foul, disgusting, and rank.

Obscene, revolting, indecent, and vile.

Sick, repulsive, loathsome, and gross.

I could go on, and on, and on.

But I won’t. There’s no point.

I know what she is.

I know what she can do.

But I also know I can fix her.

So that’s what I did.

Wouldn’t you have done the same thing?

When I found that book, I made a choice. And when she showed up at her cabin on her seventeenth birthday—seventeen days after her life imploded—I knew what I had to do.

She wanted a cure, so I would be her cure.

I am her cure.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - MERC

“We’re not driving to Louisiana. What the fuck is wrong with you people?” This is a serious question I’m asking. “We have a jet, Nick. Right out there in your fucking front yard. Why the hell would we waste an entire day and drive thirteen hundred miles when we can get there in two hours?”

“First of all”—Nick holds up a finger—“we need to go back to Mount Pleasant.”

“Fuck that,” I growl. “No.”

“Yes,” Nick insists. “My truck is still in Mount Pleasant.”

“Who cares? I’m not giving in on the drive, but if I were to give in, why the fuck would we need two trucks?”

“Because this is how Wendy and I do things, OK? We’re leaving here in Wendy’s truck, we’re driving to Mount Pleasant so I can pick up my truck, and then we’ll split up—”

“Fuck you.” I laugh. “Do you think I’m stupid? Let me guess, you and Wendy get in your truck and Sasha, Harrison, and I get in Wendy’s truck—”

“I’m not going,” Harrison says.

We all stop the conversation to look at Harrison. “What?” I ask.