Chapter 7 #2
My alcohol hazy thoughts sharpened, and I stilled my loose tongue.
I didn't talk about my past. Not my childhood, not my family.
As far as anyone knew, I was a blank slate.
Most of the time, it worked. People liked to talk about themselves.
All you had to do was ask them enough questions, and no one ever probed deeper. But Adelaide waved her hand.
"Go on," she urged. "I wanna know more."
"More than your background check told you?" I reminded her with a twist in my stomach.
A fabricated background that The Unseen put in place for me. Adelaide wouldn't have let me near her without one. But it was all a lie. Every document and paper trail. Even social media posts that painted a life of a woman I didn't know.
"Yeah." Adelaide shrugged, not apologetic in the slightest. "You know you can talk to me, right? You can tell me anything."
She laid her head on the couch, and her eyes drooped for a moment.
"I—" My mouth snapped shut as Adelaide roused and her eyes became slits. "I need to tell you something."
I've been lying to you this whole time.
My secret burned a hole on the tip of my tongue, and I almost, almost, let it fall out.
"I'm going to need you to pitch in with rent. You didn't mention you are a living tornado when you asked to come and stay." I chickened out and waved my hand at her clothes hanging over a chair.
Now wasn't the right time to spill my guts. The amount of alcohol churning in my stomach meant I might end up doing that later.
"Look, I can only be type A ninety percent of my life. Messiness is my one personality flaw."
Our peals of laughter were so loud that Jonah poked his head around the corner and scowled in our direction.
"Are you allergic to fun, Jonah?" I teased as he disappeared.
Adelaide filled our glasses with the last drops from the bottle, and we toasted one last time.
"To being bad-ass, messy bitches and always having each other's backs."
"Cheers."
I knew, even if I held on to my secrets, I would do anything and everything to keep Adelaide safe. She was my best friend, and I loved everything about her, even her inability to store clothes anywhere in her room.
I just hoped when I told her the truth, she would still love me.
"I'm going to bed." Adelaide stifled a yawn against her palm.
She clutched me close with a shuddered breath.
I didn't mention the crack in her voice, or the haunted shadows in her gaze.
It had been a good night, but she was still thinking about her three ex-boyfriends.
They left a gaping hole in her life, and this first birthday without them would always be a wobbly one.
"Sleep tight."
Adelaide stumbled to her bedroom, trailing her hand down the wall. I sniffled, catching a deeper sob from escaping. My fists dug into my eyes, smearing the mascara.
"You want one?" Jonah offered me the tissue box, and I took one with a sigh.
He fell onto the opposite end of the couch. The space between us made my stomach swirl. I knew it was cowardly to leave his apartment. Awkwardness twisted up my insides.
"Bernice was rude. Was that why you left?" Jonah asked, as if my thoughts reminded him.
"Ray asked me to help him with something." I cringed, unable to mask with the alcohol warming my veins.
Jonah snapped closed. The tentative warmth in his gaze extinguished and replaced by a ticking jaw. I wanted to tell him the truth.
"Ray."
"I think it's cute how Bernice cares about you. I don't even know who—" I waved my hands toward the apartment next door and trailed off, trying to change the subject.
What was the use of connecting with people, unless it was to use them? My stomach wrenched, and I made a low noise. My tongue was heavy.
"A middle-aged couple with a dog called Doug, and on your left, a young family." Jonah supplied, and his lip quirked.
The tension between us made my hands curl. It was a physical barrier, enforced by the cold shield of his expression.
"You know my neighbors?"
"Adelaide is here. Of course I've done my research."
"Your job."
"I told you I didn't have much room for anything else." His gaze dropped to my lips.
I wanted to lean over and taste Jonah so badly I shivered, but my stomach turned again. Starting something with Jonah was asking for trouble. I shot up and caught my hand against my mouth.
"I'm gonna be—" The room spun, or was that me? I staggered to the kitchen sink and leaned over, emptying my stomach.
Cramps blinded me as I painted the sink with pastel chunks.
Sweat broke out over my skin and I let out a pitiful sob.
Jonah's fingers gathered my hair away from my clammy cheeks with tender efficiency.
I wanted to protest. But I hunched over the sink, frightened of what would come out of my mouth if I opened it.
Not again.
"Is there a reason you always seem to vomit in my presence, Lara?" Jonah's fingers brushed the back of my neck.
It was a dangerous position to be in. With his body pressed against mine, and my hair wrapped around his fist. The knot in my throat ached as I swallowed.
"Alcohol, not you," I choked out.
"And before, after meditating?"
He picked at my edges with methodical persistence. I shivered at his curiosity. If he dug a little deeper and a little off-center, he might realize I wasn't who I said I was. My vision narrowed, and the scent of vomit made me cough.
"I-I'm going to bed." I whirled away as he took a step toward me.
My stomach roiled in protest, but I jammed a fist against it.
"Lara, let me help you," Jonah insisted.
I shook my head and turned my back on him.
Bile scorched my throat in a wave of acid.
The bitter scent burned my nostrils as I stumbled into my room.
Jonah was too good at his job, and I was too drunk to hold it together.
Tonight, it would be me and my porcelain rim.
Tomorrow, I could regroup and drum some logic into my brain.
Thinking about anyone but Ellington was foolish right now.
But heat lingered on the back of my neck from his touch.
How easy it would have been for him to collar the front instead and shake the truth out of me.
My heartbeat thundered as I sank to my knees in my bathroom, dizzy, heartsick, and falling apart.
I needed to remember what I was here for.