Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Oh, come on. Loosen up. Have more of that drink,” he murmurs, chuckling as he lowers his head until his lips almost touch my earlobe. “Then we can have some fun. That’s what we’re here for, right?” Instead of swatting my hand away, he takes hold of my wrist. I don’t realize what he’s doing until his bulge is in my palm, held in place by his hand.
Let’s see if she can float! She needs a bath!
Too much. All too much. My heart is going to explode out of my chest if it doesn’t stop beating first. All I hear is the drumbeat of my pulse in my ears and the laughter trickling down from years ago. I was drowning, and nobody cared. They only laughed harder.
I’m drowning now. “Stop—stop—” The cup falls from my hand, icy drink splashing my feet, and the world is starting to go dark around the edges of my vision. I’m too dizzy to stand. My legs start to give out, and I can’t breathe! “Stop!”
“Hey. Hey! The fuck is wrong with you?” Sudden shouting close by reaches my awareness before the stranger in front of me is pulled away. I barely realize it’s Carter who did it, Carter who’s shouting, before he punches the guy and makes him stumble against the refrigerator. “Leave her alone. Can’t you take a hint?” His fists are curled tight.
I don’t know if it’s fear or relief, but my legs are too weak to hold me up, and I start to slide down the wall.
“Hey. Take it easy.” Carter takes me under the arms and pulls me to my feet, supporting me while I gasp for breath. He studies my face, brows drawn together over blue eyes filled with concern. “What’s wrong? What did he do to you?”
“Nothing. I just… I can’t breathe…” I have to close my eyes and rest my head against the wall, fighting for every sip of air. “Can’t breathe.”
“Okay. You’re fine now. You’re safe, all right? All you have to do is take one breath. Try it. Just one breath. I’ll do it with you. In…”
Somehow, listening to him makes it a little easier. I’m only following orders, that’s all. I don’t have to think about anything. I just have to do as I’m told. Slowly, I’m able to take a breath, filling my lungs and clearing my head.
“Good job. Now out.” We exhale together, and I open my eyes and see the way his gaze moves over my face like he’s still worried.
Don’t get any ideas. He’s worried because he knows what will happen if Mom or Paul find out there was trouble tonight. It’s not because he cares. I’m a liability.
At least now I’m a liability who can breathe. “I’m okay now,” I whisper, trembling. “I’m fine.”
“You better go back upstairs.”
“That’s what I was trying to do,” I admit with a short, unhappy laugh. “I’ll go now.”
What a relief, being able to work my way through the crowd that seems to all be heading out to the backyard, anyway. It makes it easier to walk down the hall and round the bottom stair before climbing, holding onto the iron railing just in case I get a little dizzy again—especially since there are people walking up and down the stairs at the same time. I guess this isn’t a downstairs-only party. I wish somebody had told me.
“Oh, the line for the bathroom was too long.”
I know that voice, and the familiar sound makes me turn my head. Tiana is strutting down the stairs with her friends behind her in various states of undress, and all of them are laughing.
“So we used yours instead,” Tiana explains with a giggle, her teeth flashing and her eyes shining like a predator going in for the kill. But all she does is continue down the stairs while her friends giggle. I guess I don’t look all that different, after all, if they recognized me right away. That’s what floats around in the back of my head as I walk down the hall, ready to get in the shower, thanks to the soda and vodka all over my feet.
And maybe I would… if it wasn’t for the horror show my bathroom is.
There’s wet toilet paper everywhere, including a bunch that got shoved down the toilet until it overflowed. Somebody raided my dresser—bras, panties. It all sits in the water that’s spilled onto the floor and soaked into the bathmat. Somebody took my shaving gel from the shower and covered the mirror with it, then sprayed it all over the sink and the toilet seat.
Why? Why can’t they just leave me alone? What did I ever do to deserve this? Any of it?
This time, my legs can’t hold me up, and I sink to the floor outside the bathroom door before putting my head in my hands and weeping while the sounds of so much fun and laughter go on under me.