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I walk around Trish, grabbing a large shirt that's sitting on the fold-up table and slide it on. I'm unsure of whose it is, but I'm suddenly freezing, my naked body trembling. Due to fear or the desert night chill, I'm not sure.
"Let's just get over on the bed. Be quiet, don't make a noise," Neil orders.
We do as he asks, huddling on the small, full bed. None of us will be able to sleep tonight, that's for sure. Our skin touches, our arms clinging to each other as we listen for a noise, a cracking branch, a footstep, a gunshot, anything.
We hear nothing.Nothing. Sleep doesn't hit any of us, and we sit and stare at each other, holding our terrified breaths in the depths of our chests, remaining in complete silence until morning.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
ROMAN
Dark hair flashes in front of my face, and my gaze shoots up. Seeing one of the VIP members with long, dark hair, so familiar that I want to wrap my hands in it and see if it feels the same as hers does. I want to turn her around and see if her eyes are as gray as I wish they were.
They aren't.
I know they won’t be.
They'll be a dull brown that looks like melted chocolate poured straight into the pits of her eye sockets. She's a beautiful girl, maybe a little loose, but she keeps my bed warm when I need her to.
I lean down, slicing the blade down between the piles of coke in front of me, cutting out a thick line. My foot bobs against the footrest—erratic, hectic, chaotic.
I need a bump.
"Brandy, come over here." I open up my arm toward her. She turns around, her muddy brown eyes locking with mine as she tosses her hand on her waist. She walks over, strutting her hips heavily and sliding into my lap with ease. I wrap my hand around her waist, sliding my fingers over her jean skirt and squeezing the side of her ass. Bending down, I place my thumb over my nostril, inhaling the thick powder with the other. It burns, sending a shock through my brain that has me tilting my head back and closing my eyes.
Brandy is there in the next moment, dipping her tongue into my mouth as if she can taste the cocaine on my tongue.
Once the head rush clears, Brandy separates, bending over to cut out her own line. She takes it with ease, her hair creating a sheet around her face as she leans down. She wipes the residue from below her nose with her pointer finger and sucks the dust off with her tongue. Her eyes grow wild, the fire burning through her veins as the hit flows through her.
"Rome, on in five!" one of the set stage crew says before walking back out.
"Want to have a quickie before you go on stage?" she asks, whipping her dark hair over her shoulder. She turns around, straddling me in my chair. Her skirt inches up, and I can see the tiny pair of panties between her thighs.
I sigh, her persistence and eagerness a turn-off more than anything else. She brings her hand up, ready to dig her long nails into my hair. I tilt away from her. My stage look has already been perfected—my face is powdered, and I'm in blue jeans and an AC/DC shirt, with my leather jacket covering it. I don’t want to fuck around with her when I’m about to go on stage, and she knows that.
Lonnie, Clyde, and Flynn are probably somewhere around here. I glance up, looking over at the couches and chairs in our back VIP section, seeing them empty. We're so used to shows nowadays that we just do what we want until we need to go on.
We've been doing this for three years now. Our fame has only grown. So substantially, our shows are almost always sold out. We even went on a short tour with my dad last year, but he's getting older now, and tours aren't really in the cards for him anymore.
He stays home with my mom, since my sister doesn't live there anymore. She’s living in Milwaukee in a small apartment of her own, almost finished with getting her bachelor’s degree in some art shit. She tries to go home a lot, visiting with our parents, but she says it's not the same.
She tells me there’s something about our town. The air is different. It doesn’t feel good like it used to, she says.
Nothingis the same anymore.
I try not to go back there, although I do it for my mom. It's painful to be in Shallow Lake. The waves don't crash against the shore in the same way. The sun isn't as bright as it used to be as it sets over the trees. The air doesn’t feel as good when it brushes my skin.
I can't even look at her house, haven't spoken to any of her family since the day I walked out of there. My parents still keep in touch with them, as far as I know they're still best friends. Their faces still visit me in my dreams. It's scarred me, to be honest. Their crying eyes as they stared at me with such a heavy sadness. The day my heart was literally torn from my chest.
I don't know where she is.
My sister doesn't talk about her. At first, I pried, asked for every little detail about Luna's life. Where she was, who she was with, what she's been doing. When I found out she went to Arizona with a group of people she'd never met, I knew.
I've lost her.For good.
I don't know who she is anymore, and it's a pain that sits so heavy in my chest that it feels like I'm bleeding directly onto my shoes. Every minute of my life.
I try my best to move on. I do everything I can to get her out of my thoughts, and out of my mind.
