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“If nobody accuses him, he’ll never fucking stop. You’re safe in your castle in the clouds, J, but what about us?”
Holy shit.
“Take care of yourself,” I tell Jason and turn to go, the jab hurting like a punch to the gut. No idea what I expected to find, why I thought coming here might calm my frazzled nerves. With guilt added to the mix, I’m worse off than before.
My stomach lodged under my ribs like a damn stone, I make my way back to my new life, knowing full well that my old one will haunt me forever.
***
After a night spent tossing and turning, caught in nightmares and twisted in my sheets, I finally catch some shuteye with the sunrise, a pillow jammed over my head to keep out the light. I slip in and out of dreams, or memories, dark places with the stench of piss and vomit, yelling ringing in my ears as I cower, small and powerless, trying to hide.
But the hands always find me and drag me, kicking and screaming, back into the fear and pain.
The knock-knock seems to come out of the blue. It comes again, smashing into my sleep, shattering the dreams.
Thank God.
I open bleary eyes and squint as the door cracks open. A shaggy dark head pops inside.
Alex, I think, my brain hurting as it tries to come awake. My roommate. Important to clarify this, even as my body still shakes with remembered fear.
“What?” I croak, hugging my pillow, wincing at the sunrays spearing through the window and straight through my head.
“Someone here for you. A girl. Says you told her to come this morning.”
A girl? Who…?
Amber.
Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! Throwing off the sheet, I shoot to my feet and stagger sideways. My head hurts as if I’ve been drinking.
Have I? My memories of last night are somewhat disjointed, but I may have joined Travis and Gage in a few glasses of whiskey after returning home from my second job of the day.
Ow.
“Don’t let her in. I mean, not yet. Give me five minutes, okay?”
Alex looks at me as if I’m speaking Klingon. Was he drinking with us? Fuck if I remember. Maybe. Important thing is, he closes the door, leaving me to scrub the sleep out of my eyes and put some order to my room.
Not an easy feat after such a night—or in general. I stumble a couple of times, my feet caught in dirty clothes. I don’t have many, but apparently last night I thought it was a good idea to drop them all on the floor. What the hell?
Oh, they aren’t dirty clothes. They’re the new clothes I bought with Amber. So last night I was angry—at her? At the clothes?
Shit.
I tidy up as best I can, pull the sheet and comforter up on the bed, then crack the door open, check the hallway and make a mad dash for the shower.
The thought of her right outside, in the living room, turns my morning wood into a nuclear warhead, and I’d have jacked off if I wasn’t running so damn late. If I wasn’t worried I won’t be able to keep quiet and she’d hear me.
And damn, right on the heels of that thought comes an image of her opening the bathroom door and joining me under the spray, curling her hand around my hard-on and pumping.
Damn, I can’t help myself. I grab my cock and jerk off quickly, desperately. I imagine her breasts, her long legs wrapped around me, her face flushed with pleasure, and I come with a strangled moan, shooting my load on the tiled wall.
I lean back with a groan. Christ.
Turning off the water, I dry myself and drag on my jeans, not bothering with underwear or anything else. Okay, ready to face Amber like a human being, or almost.
That’s when I remember what I invited her over for.
