17. Blake
BLAKE
Calling Grady was fucking humiliating.
This entire thing has been fucking humiliating!
Mr. Liquor King marched me into a back room where he took my photo on a polaroid camera, then made me sit and wait.
“Don’t touch anything.” He pointed at me before he door slammed shut, the lock clicked, and I became his prisoner.
This has got to be me at my worst, right?
Not getting totally wasted at a stranger’s party, then puking everywhere.
Not leaving college with my tail between my legs.
Not all the stupid shit I did in Chicago.
But this.
This moment right here.
Locked in a back room of a liquor store to avoid being carted off to a police station.
Fuck!
My insides are in chaos .
Why did I pick Grady to come get me? Why him?
He’s probably talking to my brother right now, telling Wily all about how he’s heading to the liquor store to collect me and coming up with a bunch of reasons why I’m being detained here.
They’ll figure it out—they’re not stupid. And then they’ll have to decide what to do with me after that.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
Wily’s gonna hit the roof, and then he’ll tell my parents, and they’ll kill me for being an irresponsible little shit. And the truth is gonna come out, and I’ll have to air my dirty laundry and face the consequences.
I can’t!
I can’t face them!
My parents will never speak to me again.
Because you’ll be dead!
Ugh. If only it were that easy. They won’t kill me. No, they’ll lecture me and be so fucking disappointed in me. They’ll be horrified, hurt, confused, and it’s not like I can explain it to them, because I don’t know why I jumped off the rails!
I don’t get what possessed me to think Cleo was the best and why I followed her down that path. Why did I have to break free?
I don’t know.
I don’t fucking know!
My head is splitting, my temples pounding. Tears are burning my throat, my nose, my eyes. I don’t want them to fall, but I’m not sure how much longer I can hold out.
I finally got busted, and there’s no place to run.
A shaky whimper punches out of me, my chest concaving before I suck in a breath and can’t hold back. The first sob rips out of me, giving permission for the rest of them to follow. The stress is too much to handle, and I’m finally exploding.
My stomach convulses, a shudder running through my body as I pull my knees to my chest and blubber into my jeans.
I have no idea how long Grady’s gonna take, or what the man’s gonna tell him when he arrives. Shit! He’ll work out that I tried to shoplift that nail polish at the pharmacy. That time he stood up for me when he really shouldn’t have.
Panic sizzles through me, and I squeeze my legs even tighter.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Really? You’re surprised? You shouldn’t be. You’re a fucking train wreck right now!
Man, I really need to sort out my life.
I can’t keep doing this.
No more shoplifting. That is it! I don’t want that thrill anymore. It was fun to start with, but it’s landed me in this shitty situation, and I can’t be so reckless again.
You should stop drinking too. You know what could have happened to you at that party if Grady hadn’t shown up. Think about it, dammit! THINK!
So I make myself.
I sit there in that hardback chair, bawling my eyes out and forcing myself to play out that scenario.
That guy probably would have raped me… or at least done shit to my body that I didn’t want him to. And I would have been helpless to stop him.
A shudder runs through me, shaking my entire frame.
Shit .
“Blake.” I whimper my name, hating myself for getting to this point. “You’re such a fuckup. You have to stop.” My voice cracks, and I press my lips against my knees.
Just stop.
But how?
What am I supposed to do?
I can’t go back to Chicago.
I don’t want to go home and admit all my sins.
So what do I do?
“He’s here.” The owner’s voice jolts me upright. The door swings open, and my boots slap onto the concrete floor. When I don’t immediately move, he gives me a pointed look. “Let’s go.”
With a thick swallow, I rise slowly from the chair, wondering why I’m not bolting out that door.
But I know what’s waiting for me on the other side, and that’s scary too.
Grady’s gonna be so pissed off at me.
He probably hates the fact that I called him.
I’m an inconvenience. A pain in the ass.
Shit. I should have called someone else.
Who?
Wily? Like that was ever gonna happen.
Sniffing, I wipe the back of my hand across my cheek and meekly shuffle after the man. He’s not saying anything, thank God, and I follow him out into the store, crossing my arms tight and keeping my head down.
“Okay. So, here’s the deal.” The man’s voice makes me flinch. “You never come into my store again. I’ve taken your photo, and I will be pinning it to the wall with all the other sticky fingers who have come before you. ”
“What?” My head jolts up, my eyes wide.
When he took my photo earlier, I thought it was just for his own records, something to keep behind the counter, but?—
He points to the wall behind the register, and I gape at the collage of images.
“No, please. I can’t— You can’t?—”
“Blake.” Grady’s voice is a quiet rumble, and without meaning to, I look up and spot him. I’d planned to keep my eyes down and not make contact, but… there he is, standing on the other side of the counter.
He’s so tall and strong, waiting there in his cargo pants and a Nolan U Cougars sweatshirt. Part of me wants to run into his arms right now. I want to rest my head against his chest, feel that strength wrap around me, and bawl like a freaking baby.
But he won’t want me to do that.
I dare a proper look at his face, and yep… he definitely doesn’t want me to do that.
Swallowing, I curl in on myself, my gaze shooting back to the safety of the floor.
“It’s going up, and you’re just gonna have to live with that.
Actions have consequences,” the man barks at me.
“Now, your friend here has paid for the bottle you tried to lift and assured me that you won’t be getting one drop of it.
He’s also promised me that you will not be walking into this place again. ”
I nod.
“I need to hear you say it.”
After another thick swallow, I look up and mumble, “I won’t be in here again. I’m sorry for the trouble I caused. And… ”
“And?” His eyebrows rise.
“Thanks for not calling the cops.” My voice drops to a raspy whisper.
The man grunts. “If it happens again, I won’t hesitate.” Lifting his chin, he gives me permission to leave.
Easing out around the counter, I close the gap between Grady and me. His handsome face is serious, and I wish I knew what he was thinking.
Is he disappointed? Or is he gonna yell at me and question me until I break?
Something sizzles through me, my defenses wanting to rise and lock into place.
If he yells at me, I’m gonna yell right back! I won’t let him hurt me. I won’t?—
My bravado dies out as quickly as it rises.
He bailed me out. He came when I called.
There’s no way I can get shitty with him. He’s my frickin’ savior!
“You okay?” he softly murmurs, resting his hand on my lower back and leading me out of the store.
I can’t even nod.
Why is he being nice to me? Checking on me like I’ve been through hell and need comforting?
Well, I have. And I do!
But I don’t deserve it.
Shit, I shouldn’t have called him.
I should have just gone to jail and rotted away, because that’s what my life is worth right now. Fucking rot!
As soon as we reach the intersection and pause at the crosswalk, I bolt right, around the corner, and take off running .
Grady doesn’t need this shit.
“Blake!”
I shake my head, my boots pounding on the pavement as I try to make a break and…
I don’t even know.
Where the hell can I run to anyway?
I’ve never been more lost in my entire life.