Ruin My Life (Mangled Masterpieces #1)

59. Win

59

Win

Hey baby, meeting went well. Not really in the mood to stay at my parents… You at your place?

How dare you not have tabs on my whereabouts. You’re severely slacking on your stalking practices.

A surprised laugh bursts from my lips, echoing off the tiled walls. Everyone left after the meeting, but I needed to piss so I ducked into the bathroom. Balancing my phone on the rim of the sink, I wash my hands, refusing to look in the mirror. With the amount of crying I’ve done in the last few hours, I must look like I’ve smoked ten bowls.

Is he gonna think I got fucked up?

No, he’ll believe me. I shared my location with him and my parents as soon as I parked. After what's been brought to light in the last twenty-four hours, I don’t want them to think I’ll relapse. But it also holds me accountable. If they know where I am, I’m less likely to do something stupid like stop at the liquor store and drink until I black out.

The thought might’ve crossed my mind a few times.

Fine, more like ten times. I’m a fucking mess.

Splashing water on my face, I close my eyes. You’ve come too far to give up the fight now. You’re not alone anymore. The truth of it sinks in. I’ve been clean for over half a year. I’m not alone. I’m healing.

I grab my phone and rip off a paper towel to dab my face, tapping out a reply to my boyfriend.

Challenge accepted. ;) I'll make sure to creep outside your

The hinges of the bathroom door squeal. My thumb slips and sends the incomplete message. Ice slithers down my spine. The damp towel falls from my hand.

In the mirror, over my shoulder, stares a pair of furious eyes and a cruel sneer.

This. Cunt.

I spin around—

Pink dust explodes in my face.

“Fuck!”

No, no, no. Not again .

My ass hits the sink. The effects are immediate. The edges of my vision blur. My mind and body aren’t on the same page. Don’t panic. Use your brain and think! My phone vibrates with an incoming text, but instead of opening it, I swipe to call.

“I love angel dust,” Jessica hums. “You know why?”

Stinging, prickling waves spread from my eyes and nose. My tongue is rubber.

Please answer, baby.

Heels click like bombs. “It’s a fascinating blend that turns you on, disorients you, gives you some mild hallucinations and makes you complacent. Crazy what a little cocaine, some ecstasy, ketamine, and a bit of Viagra can do. But if you’re unlucky…" she drawls, flashing a menacing grin. "It might be cut with fentanyl.”

My ears are ringing. My heart rate skyrockets. I’m too fucking hot. The walls are closing in. Ants— the ants are back but they’re spiders. The Spider Queen spills pink powder all over the porcelain sink, setting the baggy next to the faucet.

“You made it too easy. I thought I’d have to take you out another way, but here you are, alone in the bathroom after an AA meeting. No one will think twice about you overdosing. They probably expect it,” Jessica’s warped voice slurs.

Overdose? I choke on air. My eyelids are on fire. When did I get on the floor? It smells like piss and mildew and bleach. Where’s my phone? A shadow falls over me— I don’t want to be alone in the dark with this monster.

Her chuckle is slowed and reverbed as she squats to my level. “Let’s be honest, everyone’s been waiting for you to fuck up. They’ll chalk it up to a relapse and sweep it under the rug.”

But I didn’t.

“Did you really think I’d let you ruin my life?” She snarls. “No. Grant and Marcus will take the fall and I’ll lay low until it all blows over.”

She’s certifiably psychotic.

And she doesn’t know I gave my statement.

A dopey grin unfurls on my lips.

“You’re fucked.”

Her eyes open into bottomless black voids. “What?”

I’m giggling now. My hands and feet are kinda numb, but I don’t care because, “Even if I die, you’re so fucking fucked. I told them everything . You’ve been accused of drugging, assaulting and raping a minor. You’re under investigation right now. ”

Through tears of laughter— or fear, I don’t know anymore— I watch her face morph and her body uncoil.

“No, you— you didn’t. You—”

It’s hilarious. So hilarious I can’t breathe. Pins and needles prick my lungs from the inside. My vision vignettes. Forcing an inhale through my nose, I count to five. Exhale. Again.

Calm down. Stay awake. Keep her talking.

But I’m so tired. My eyes want to close. So bad.

Her wavering silhouette dances in figure eights.

“There’s gotta be a way out of this. There has to be. I can’t go to jail ,” she whines, pacing half-moons around me. “I’m not . No fucking way. I won’t. A lawyer can fix this. Daddy has the best lawyers. I just need to pretend I’m the one who found you. Yes, that will work…”

Someone turns the volume down. I’m underwater, the waves rocking me back and forth… back and forth. There’s a little bubble over my nose and mouth but it’s not enough oxygen. My thundering heart begins to slow. A glacial chill settles around my bones. It’s not so bad here. But I’m so cold…

Light bursts through the darkness.

Warmth pours over me like thick honey.

Sunshine.