Page 70 of These Dead Promises


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“No! No fucking way.” Kye glared at his sister. “If Mom knew you were getting high…”

“You always get high!”

“It’s different. I’m a guy, and well, it’s just different.”

“That’s some misogynistic bullshit right there.”

“I agree with Clo on this one, sorry guys.” Harleigh smiled.

“Just let her have a smoke,” I said. “It’s not like she can get into too much trouble walking from here to your place.”

“A couple of hits, that’s it. I mean it, Clo, or so help me fucking God. And no shotgunning it off Miller.”

“Whoa, man.” Nate held up his hands. “Don’t drag me into this.”

Zane brought me a beer and some Tylenol. “Probably could have used something stronger.”

“Nah, I’ll be okay.” I didn’t want to be totally out of it tonight.

He didn’t look convinced but flopped down on the end of the couch next to Chloe.

“Your parents are out of town?” Nate asked.

“Old man and stepmom,” I corrected. “And yeah, something like that. Got the place to myself all weekend.” My hand slid up Harleigh’s thigh and she drew in a sharp breath. Even now, she was still so fucking coy and innocent.

“I’m so fucking happy you beat the Devils,” Nate said. “The look on Marc’s face was priceless.”

“Yeah, well, he made sure to get us back for it,” Zane said, taking a deep hit on his blunt.

The four of them fell into easy conversation as the trailer slowly filled with a smoky haze. The pain pills combined with the good weed, beer, and Harleigh’s presence was like the best fucking drug in the world. My body felt loose, my mind drifting to a better future, a better fucking life. Me and Harleigh and a cute little apartment in the city. Days spent attending college classes and evenings spent studying, lots and lots of naked studying. Yeah, I liked the sound of that. Harleigh would work at some quirky coffee shop while I rose through the ranks of the Albany Falcons.

We wouldn’t have much money, no handouts from mom or dad or family, just love and laughter and each other.

Jesus, I was really fucking high.

Because that couldn’t ever be our life, could it?

I let out a heavy sigh and Harleigh plucked the blunt from my fingers, bringing it to her own mouth. Sucking in a deep hit, she lowered her mouth to mine, a whisper of a kiss, and exhaled long and slow.

Someone cleared their throat, but I didn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t.

“I fucking love you, B,” I whispered, keeping my voice low and steady. Wanting her to know I meant every word. Every fucking syllable.

“This is fun.” She giggled, taking another hit, until the cherry burned out.

“My girl likes to get high, huh?”

“It helps.” She shrugged. “A guy in Albany Hills managed to get his stash past security and then bribed one of the cleaners to smuggle it in every month.”

“Daddy Dearest know he sent you to a fucking place like that?”

She flinched and I felt like a giant asshole.

“Shit, B, I didn’t—”

“It’s okay. I guess my therapist would say I replaced one coping mechanism with another but getting high was my lifeline some days.”

Silence.

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