Chapter Twenty-Nine
Presley
As I step into Every Tang Korean, the bell overhead chimes, announcing my arrival. The store’s pretty dead, like usual, which suits me just fine.This place is way out from town, tucked into a corner where nobody from my past would dare venture. Exactly how I like it.
No accidental run-ins. No awkward small talk about how much weight I’ve lost. No pitying looks.
I don't leave the house much anymore, but lately, the guys have been keeping me busy, too busy to notice the fridge at home is empty. Not that they’d restock it even if they did. Not that I even eat much these days. It shows.
Just yesterday, I caught my reflection in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize myself.
Gaunt cheeks. Hollow eyes. The ghost of the woman I was supposed to be.
When I lost Reese, I lost myself. All these years later, I still have no clue how to get her back.
I make my way to the back, grabbing handfuls of random crap. Sushi triangles. Noodles. Cheese. A smoothie. Whatever. Whatever might pass as ‘food.’ Whatever might make the guys happy for five minutes.
Arms loaded, I head to the counter, hearing Roman’s voice chatting with someone I can't quite see from here. Good. Let them finish. I'm not in the mood to talk.
A few seconds pass, and I start dumping my haul onto the counter. “Ah, hello my friend. Long time no see,” Roman greets, his smile warm and real.
“Roman, buddy, you know I don’t get out much.”
“That I do,” he chuckles, ringing up my order. “Looks like you're on a sugar mission today.” He teases, and even though I don't mean to, a smile sneaks onto my face.
“You caught me red-handed,” I laugh, handing over Keifer’s card.
Roman swipes it and slides it back to me. "Got something new for you to try. Not now, but later. Let me know what you think, thinking about adding it to the shelves."
"You’re trusting me to decide what you sell?" I raise an eyebrow.
“If you hate it, I’ll find something else.” He grins.
I can’t help it. His kindness is contagious. “Guess you just landed yourself a taste-tester, Roman. You’re gonna make me start coming around more,” I add as I gather my bags.
His grin widens. “See you in a couple days.” And with a wink, he disappears into the back.
Warlock.No one pulls me out of my cave like he does.
I slip on my jacket, tugging it tighter, shades perched on my nose. A quick scan left and right before I cross the lot, All clear.
But just as I step off the curb, something catches my eye: A big truck, idling across the way.
I can’t see inside. But the feeling, that prickling at the back of my neck, tells me someone’s watching.And it’s not a good feeling.
Panic kicks in.I bolt for my beat-up ’89 Camry, groceries rattling as I toss them onto the passenger seat. Starting the engine, I peel out of the lot. “Whew, that was close,” I mutter, just as my phone lights up.
Agatha. Great.
I groan, ignoring her call like I’ve learned to do. But the universe has other plans. Screeching tires scream behind me. A shiny, new, red sports car swerves into my lane.
I glance at the mirror, and there’s Agatha, flipping me off, shouting something that can only mean one thing: “Pull over, bitch!”
She doesn’t even need to roll her window down. I can hear her through my closed ones.
I flip her off right back, mouthing, ‘No.’ And I gun it.
She guns it faster. Swerves in front of me, slamming on the brakes.
Groceries fly. I slam the wheel, cursing.
Before I can blink, she’s yanking my door open and dragging me out. “Bitch, are you fucking nuts?!” she shrieks. “I know you saw me call you! You ignored me!”
I wrench free, brushing myself off. “Yeah, so?”
“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” she snaps, grabbing my shoulders, forcing me to meet her furious gaze. “I was there for you. Every step. And you let Keifer turn you into this, this shell. It’s been eight years, Prez. Eight years since Reese died, and you're still letting it eat you alive!”
“Eight fucking years since Rygaard ruined my life!” I scream back, voice cracking. “He’s the reason I’m a fucking mess! I can’t just move on like you, like everyone ! I hate my life! I beg for death every single day!"
“You think I don’t know that?” she yells, stepping back, hands shaking. “You think I don’t sit by my phone, every day, wondering when I'll get the call? Wondering if you're dead somewhere?!”
I say nothing. Tears blur my vision.
“Good,” she says, softer now. “You’re still capable of feeling something.”
“I’m not a robot,” I mumble.
“Could've fooled me, Skeletor,” she sings, and somehow, against every survival instinct, I burst out laughing.
She almost smiles, almost, before snapping back into seriousness.
“You high right now?”
Anger flares up. “Fuck you, bitch!”
She smirks. “Sorry, strictly dickly over here.”
I groan, pushing past her.
But she grabs me again.
“I did all this for a reason,” she says. “I shouldn’t even tell you. But screw it. You and him, you’re both stubborn idiots. Figure it out.”
And just like that, she storms off, peels out, and leaves me standing there, groceries scattered, like a streetwalker between johns.
“And I’m the crazy one,” I mutter, dragging myself back into my car.
Later…
Agatha’s words gnaw at me as I drive.
Eventually, I have to pull over, blinking through the tears. Whether I want to admit it or not, Keifer owns me. Not just my body.
My life.
I could leave. Take the car. Disappear. But where would I even go?
The house? Gone. Given to Rafe after I burned every bridge. There’s no family waiting for me. No friends brave enough to deal with my mess.
The phone buzzes again.
This time, it’s Keifer.
Shit.
I answer. “Where the fuck are you?” he barks.
“I was hungry. I picked up snacks.”
"Get your ass back home. We’re ready to play."
Groaning, I mutter, “Don’t you guys get tired of this shit?”
“Not this shit again, Prez.”
“Don't call me that.”
“I’ll call you what the fuck I want, Prez .”
A tap on my window makes me jump.
It’s him.
Standing right there. Smirking. “Open the door, Presley.” As soon as I unlock it, he’s dragging me out by the neck, throwing me onto the pavement.
Pain blooms across my hands and knees.
“You ungrateful, lying bitch,” he seethes, kicking me in the stomach. “I should just kill you.”
“Keif! Please, ” Another kick.
“I wasted my time on you in high school,” he snarls. “You were never worth it.”
“I know,” I sob. “I’m sorry, baby. Please, ” I say whatever I have to say to make it stop.
“You weren’t trying to leave?” he demands.
“Never,” I whisper.
His expression softens, the monster, momentarily tamed.
He pulls me up, pressing me against him. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “I don't know what came over me.”
“It’s okay,” I lie, letting him hug me, even as pain ripples through my ribs. “You’re coming with me,” he says, steering me to his car. “I'll take care of you.”
My stomach knots. But I smile. “I love when you take care of me.”
“Close your eyes, baby. I'll wake you when we get home.”
The locks click.I shut my eyes, sinking into the darkness.
Maybe one day, I’ll wake up from this nightmare.
But that day is not today.