Chapter 4 #2
I scroll through the photos in my phone, still pissed that all traces of Punk have been erased, and finally find a pic of me and Juniper at a restaurant. The plate in front of me is piled high with chicken nachos. Okay, so not a vegan, Mama just can’t make a sandwich to save her life.
An incoming text preview flashes at the top of my screen. My stomach knots. It’s from him…
I wish you could remember the first night I found you at the club. I had my fingers buried so deep inside you. Fuck… You moaned so loud for me.
My breath hitches. Oh shit. Despite the fact that he’s completely unhinged, I can’t help but clench my thighs together. Fuck. I don’t even know what he looks like. But my body seems to remember every single trigger.
The typing bubbles appear again, and I wait on pins and needles. If I reply, it will only give him more fuel.
I force down another bite of the disgusting sandwich, and it almost gets lodged in my throat.
See you soon, pretty girl. Keep that pussy warm for me.
“What?” I cough out. Who talks like that? And why in the name of everything holy is it kind of turning me on?
I’ve been staring at myself in the mirror for so long, I’m dizzy. The bruises on my face and arms have faded, but the scars from surgery will be there forever. A constant reminder of how I almost died.
I run my finger along the stitches. They had to shave the side of my head before they could operate.
One of the older nurses was sweet enough to tell me how cool I look, and that it was very 80s rock and roll.
Maybe I’ll keep it like this. The one good thing about losing your memory is that you can start fresh.
I’m a clean slate. Well, for the most part.
In my dreams, I see bits and pieces. Flashes from another life. But it’s like I’m peering into someone else’s head. I sigh and apply another layer of lip gloss.
After texting this Cherry person, I agreed to let her take me to the Halloween fair tonight.
I’ve been cooped up in this house for over a week now, and I’m starting to get cabin fever.
Not to mention that Gloria’s new boyfriend, Earl, gives me the creeps.
His gaze lingers a little too long whenever I’m in the room.
She wasted no time at all after Hank died. Three weeks, his body was barely in the ground before she latched onto a new man.
Earl doesn’t live here, but he might as well.
As soon as he gets off work from the mill, he’s parked in front of our TV with a cold beer and whatever vile plate of food that Mama’s whipped up.
Last night it was mac and cheese out of a box.
If anything, I’m excited to get out just so I can find some decent food.
In just three text messages, I learn that Cherry was, in fact, my bestie all throughout high school. Her full name is Cherinne Bradley, her mama died when she was a baby, and her daddy is the preacher at the only church in Crimson Valley. Talk about issues.
I know she’s here by the sound of the dual exhaust thundering in our driveway. I race to my bedroom window and peer down, my stomach in knots. I don’t like strangers. And now everyone is. I fight the urge to cry and wonder if there’s anyone who will ever feel like home to me.
Cherry hops out of her black Mustang looking like she’s airbrushed. Her jet-black hair cascades down her back, accentuating how stunning she is. I’m hoping that something about her will seem familiar once I get a closer look.
I watch as Mama embraces her; they’re both laughing like old friends. She lights Mama’s cigarette before firing one up for herself. My heart sinks. I feel like a fucking weirdo. What in the world are we going to talk about all night?
They both spot me in the window, and I shrink back. Now I definitely look like a weirdo. Or a ghost haunting the house. Fucking hell. She waves, motioning for me to come down.
I grab my purse and barrel down the stairs, charging past Earl before he can try and ogle me. I grabbed the first outfit that Juniper had packed for me—a zip-up hoodie, mini skirt, and a pair of three-inch sneaker wedges. The clothes are cute, comfortable, and smell like peaches.
As soon as I approach them, Mama goes inside, and Cherry barrels toward me. She flings her arms around my neck. “Rox! Oh my god. It’s been forever. How the fuck are you? Well, I mean, besides splitting your head open and losing your memory.”
Jesus. Does no one in this town have any decorum? Everyone just says whatever comes to their minds. No filter. I freeze at the human contact but then force myself to hug her back.
“Um, hi. Yeah, thanks for rescuing me from boredom. I’m going feral in this house.” I pull the sleeves of my jacket down to hide my scars. I don’t like being looked at like I’m under a microscope.
She laughs, her brown eyes sparkling through the most perfect black cat-eye liner I’ve ever seen. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve come to bail you out.”
I’m sure she means to go party when we were kids, but I did do actual jail time, so she could be referring to that too. I hate not knowing my own past. It can’t be trusted when it’s fed to me in pieces.
“So the Halloween fair, huh? Is that like a big thing here?” I say as I slide into her leather passenger seat.
She revs up the engine, making a spectacle of the car like it’s somehow an extension of herself. “Oh, you’ll see. Fuck, I’m actually kind of jealous that you get to experience it all for the first time again.”
I force a chuckle. What I really want to do is wrap my hands around her throat and squeeze. I doubt she’d be jealous of the four-inch scar that’s running down the inside of my thigh. “Right. Silver linings.” Or some shit.
She drives way too fast through the back road, leaving a trail of exhaust behind us. Her music is trash, but I’m grateful for how loud she blasts it so I don’t have to make any more small talk.
We follow the arrows next to the pumpkin patch signs until we end up in the middle of a cornfield. My mouth falls open. “Is the whole town here tonight?”
Cherry giggles and nods her head toward the massive crowd gathering in front of a sign that says, “Haunted Corn Maze.” “There ain’t much else to do in this town, not anything legal anyway. You ready?”
I swallow hard. “I-I’m not actually sure.”
She grins from ear to ear as she reveals the flask in her pocket. She takes a long pull before offering it to me.
Well, it looks like I’m walking.
“Fuck it,” I say on a breath. I take a swig and nearly choke on the bitter liquid.
She laughs again. “You like?”
I scrunch my nose. “What the fuck is it?”
She stuffs the flask back inside her leather jacket. “A gin and tonic, minus the tonic. Just like old times, Rox.”
Fuck. I’ve got a bad feeling about this.