Chapter Forty-Two
Annie
Loretta walks back toward me, and I immediately tense.
That smile… there’s something twisted behind it, something that makes my stomach drop.
“Now…” she says with a low chuckle, “… we’re going to have a little fun.”
My eyes widen.
What the hell does that mean?
“Loretta, you don’t have to do anything,” I say quickly, forcing the words out. “My parents will pay you. You know they will.”
She laughs softly, almost amused. “Oh, I know they will, honey. For some reason I can’t quite understand, they love you. They’d do anything for you.” Her lips curl. “I don’t get it. But hurting you…” She tilts her head. “That’ll make me feel better… and… it’ll break Deliah in the process.”
Cold dread spreads through me. “If you hurt me, they might not pay you!” I push, grasping for anything.
She shakes her head slowly, smiling. “No… they’ll pay me no matter what.”
My stomach sinks.
She’s right.
“There has to be something in you,” I try again, my voice softer now. “Something that sees me as your child. Something that doesn’t want to hurt me.”
Her expression hardens instantly.
Another slap comes out of nowhere. My head jerks to the side as pain explodes across my cheek, sharper this time, the taste of blood flooding my mouth where my lip splits.
“I don’t care about you!” she snaps. “You’re nothing.
You ruined my life, so now I’m going to ruin yours.
” She steps behind me before I can react and grabs my hand.
My thumb.
She yanks it back hard.
A sickening crunch echoes in the room.
Pain detonates, white-hot and blinding, and I scream. The sound tears out of me as fire rips through my hand, nausea surging instantly. My stomach flips, and bile rises in my throat as I gasp for air, trying to stay conscious through the wave of sheer agony.
The bitch laughs.
Actually laughs.
I clamp my eyes shut, fighting the tears, refusing to give her the satisfaction.
“How are you going to play your precious guitar now?” she mocks.
Rage cuts through the pain. “Fuck… you!” I choke out.
She just smiles. “I read somewhere you’re afraid of spiders,” she says casually.
My entire body locks.
No.
No, no, no—
“Meet Bertha,” she continues lightly, turning toward a box on the table. “She’s small… but she’s got a bite.”
My breathing spikes instantly, panic crashing over me. I shake my head without thinking as she lifts the lid.
A leg appears.
Then another.
And then…
Holy fuck, it’s huge.
Black. Hairy. Moving so damn slowly it’s almost mocking me, like it’s got all the time in the world to ruin my life.
My chest tightens as my breaths come too fast, too shallow. My vision blurs at the edges as she reaches in and lifts it out like it’s nothing.
How can she even touch that thing?
She brings it closer, and I jerk back in the chair, my pulse hammering violently.
“Where should we put her?” she muses. “Maybe your legs?” I shake my head frantically, panic swallowing everything else. “No?” she says with a grin. “Then legs it is.”
She lowers it onto my thigh, and a strangled sound escapes me as I jerk, but I can’t get away.
The damn thing starts to move, every tiny step feels like fire against my skin, the brush of its legs sending waves of revulsion through me. My body trembles uncontrollably as it crawls higher, each second stretching into something unbearable.
“Loretta… please,” I whisper, terrified to raise my voice in case it makes it move faster.
She laughs. “No way. I want to see it crawl over your face.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. The spider moves up my leg, onto my shirt, climbing steadily higher, and I can’t stop shaking.
Tears spill freely now as it reaches my chest, then my neck.
I make small, broken sounds, barely able to breathe as it creeps upward.
When it touches my face, I clamp my eyes shut, every muscle in my body locking tight.
Don’t move.
Don’t breathe.
Don’t—its legs brush across my cheek, and I feel sick. Completely, utterly sick. It moves over my face, then up… and suddenly I can’t feel it anymore.
Well shit! That’s worse.
So much worse.
“Open your eyes, Acacia,” Loretta says, laughing. I shake my head, refusing. “Open them, or I’ll make you.”
Slowly, carefully, I force one eye open… then the other.
Nothing.
It’s gone.
A sob breaks out of me as I scan the room, desperate to see where it is.
“Oh, that was worth it,” she says, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Now… what next?” She taps her lips thoughtfully. “Oh, I know… matching thumbs.”
“No!” Panic spikes again. “Please… don’t.”
She pauses, then smiles. “All right, seeing as you asked so nicely. Not yet.” She leans closer. “I think letting you wonder where Bertha is might be worse.”
My eyes dart around the room again, searching, and I can’t see it.
“Why are you doing this?” I choke out.
Her smile widens. “You had your chance to avoid all of this,” she says. “I asked nicely for money. You said no.” Her voice turns sharp. “This is on you.”
“I’m sorry your life turned out the way it did,” I say through shaking breaths. “But I didn’t choose to be born.”
“Well, I didn’t want you either,” she snaps.
“I tried everything to get rid of you. And when you were born…” She shrugs.
“I tried again.” My stomach twists. “But the system made me keep you,” she continues, pacing.
“Until they realized what was going on. Then they finally took you away.” She lets out a breath, almost relieved. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”
“If you hated me so much… why come back?” I ask.
Her lips curl. “I didn’t forget you,” she says.
“I found out who adopted you. And when I saw those photos… I knew it was you.” Her gaze sharpens.
“So I waited. I knew you had potential. I knew one day you’d be worth something.
” Ice floods my veins. “I waited twenty years,” she continues.
“And now? Now, it’s payday.” She turns away, heading back to the desk.
She pulls out a small bag, tapping white powder onto the surface before cutting it into a line.
I tense as she leans down and inhales it.
Of course.
Of course she does.
I glance down, my heart still racing… and then I see it.
Fucking Bertha.
Crawling across the floor.
Away from me.
A shaky breath escapes my lips as a small flicker of relief finally cuts through the terror.
I frown, trying to make sense of that, but she’s already dipping her finger into the bag, scooping up more white powder.
My body tenses instantly.
No.
She steps toward me and clamps her hand over my mouth, sealing it tight. I jerk, trying to pull away, but her grip is iron.
“You’ll have to breathe through your nose if you want air, won’t you, honey?” she murmurs, lifting her finger right beneath my nostrils.
I shake my head, fighting her, holding my breath for as long as I can.
“Come on, Acacia,” she says softly. “The quicker you take it in, the easier this will be.”
My lungs burn, and my vision blurs at the edges. I can’t hold it, and I drag in a desperate breath… the powder hits. It floods my nose, sharp and invasive, making my eyes clamp shut as I scream silently in my head.
Aston… please…
“Good girl,” she croons. “Now you get to feel what it was like when you were born. Cocaine in your system, just like you were meant to.” She releases me, laughing to herself.
I gasp, sucking in air as my eyes roll, struggling to focus.
The hit is instant.
Too instant.
My body starts to shake, a jittery, uncontrollable tremor that rattles through me. My thoughts scatter, slipping out of reach, everything too loud, too sharp, too much.
Fear.
Pain.
The broken thumb.
The chair.
Her.
It all crashes together in one sickening wave.
“Pathetic,” Loretta mutters.
Before I can react, her hand lashes across my face. My head snaps sideways, the force sending the chair skidding across the concrete. Pain blooms through my cheek, and my teeth slam together hard enough to bite the inside of my mouth.
Warm, metallic blood floods across my tongue, and I spit onto the floor.
Loretta smiles. “Did I make you bleed again, honey?” she asks, her voice dripping with false sweetness.
I don’t answer, shifting slightly, trying to get comfortable, but nothing feels right.
“Oh, Acacia…” She sighs. “Don’t go quiet on me. It’s unnerving.”
“What do you want me to say?” I manage.
She tilts her head, smiling. “Good question. How about… I’m sorry for ruining your life. I’m sorry, I’m worthless. I’m sorry, I owe you everything.”
“I’ve already said I’m sorry,” I mutter.
“Yes, but you didn’t mean it.”
I brace myself, expecting another hit, but her phone rings, and we both turn toward the table.
It… moves.
The table is moving.
It has legs.
Feet.
I let out a small, confused giggle as it shuffles across the room. Loretta glances back at me, narrowing her eyes. “Guessing you’re high?”
Oh.
Right.
Not real.
She grabs the phone. “Hello,” she says sweetly, flipping a switch I don’t buy for a second. “Oh! Hi, Colter.” She presses a button. “I’ll put you on speaker so Acacia can hear.”
“Annie? Annie, are you there?”
Dad.
My head snaps up, and I start crying immediately. “I’m here, Dad.” My voice sounds… floaty, and I giggle at it before I can stop myself.
“Annie, are you okay? Why are you laughing?” His voice is tight with worry.
“Because she’s high, Colt,” Loretta cuts in with a laugh. “Cocaine. One of your old favorites, wasn’t it?”
Silence.
Then Dad again, harder now. “What do you want, Loretta?”
“Money. One million dollars in my account, and I give her back.”
“Done,” he says instantly. “We meet. I bring cash. You hand her over. This ends.”
Loretta smiles, pleased. “Perfect. Park. Fifteen minutes. And if you bring the cops…” Her voice drops. “I’ll slit her throat.”
A strange image flashes in my head, bright colors, something unreal, and a giggle slips out before I can stop it.
“Annie, are you okay?” Dad’s voice cuts through the haze, sharp with panic.
It takes me a second to remember he’s not actually here.
He’s on the phone, somewhere far away.
I blink slowly, trying to focus on the concrete floor swimming beneath my feet before my gaze drifts lazily back to my hand, still taped awkwardly to the arm of the chair.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, the words slurring together as a smile I don’t remember choosing stretches across my face.
“Actually…” I let out a soft laugh. “I feel… really good.” Another giggle bubbles out of nowhere.
“Everything’s kinda…” I squint, searching for the right word before giving up.
“… floaty.” My head tips back against the chair. “My thumb doesn’t even hurt anymore.”
The silence on the other end of the line lasts barely a heartbeat.
“What did she do to your thumb?” Dad demands, his voice suddenly harder, tighter.
My eyes drift back to my hand as though I’m seeing it for the first time.
It looks… funny.
Crooked.
I frown.
Why does it look like that?
Without thinking, I give it an experimental wiggle. Agony tears through my hand with enough force to rip the breath from my lungs. Every nerve ending explodes at once.
The haze evaporates for one blinding second, replaced by pure, white-hot pain that shoots from the base of my thumb all the way to my shoulder. A strangled cry escapes before I can stop it, my body jerking violently against the ropes binding me to the chair, and fresh tears sting my eyes.
“Annie!” Dad shouts, his voice cracking with helplessness.
Loretta laughs. “Fifteen minutes, Colter,” she says. “No cops. Or her blood’s on you.” She ends the call. “How are you feeling?” she asks, watching me closely. “You’re floating, aren’t you?”
Something flutters near my face. A small bluebird lands on my shoulder, chirping softly. I giggle, tilting my head, brushing my cheek against it.
“That’s a yes,” she mutters. “Come on.”
She unties my ankles and hauls me to my feet.
The world tilts.
I sway, but she grabs my arm, steadying me.
“Walk.”
Each step feels wrong, like I’m sinking into something soft. I look down—
Purple.
Liquid.
It rises up my legs like silk, smooth and warm, and I laugh softly. We reach the stairs. Climbing them is clumsy with my hands tied, but Loretta shoves and drags until we make it to the top. She unlocks the door and pushes me outside.
The air feels strange. Too bright.
The bird flutters around me again.
“In,” she orders, opening the car door. I drop into the seat awkwardly, my hands still bound. It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t care. The purple is still there, still moving.
She gets in and starts the engine, and we pull away.
I turn my head slowly, looking at her. “Would you really slit my throat?” I ask, a soft laugh escaping me.
She glances over, smiling. “Yes, honey. Without hesitation.”
I grin, the thought drifting through my mind like something unreal. “Would I bleed rainbows?”
“No, honey,” she says with a smirk. “You’d die.”
The words cut through the haze, and I sit up straighter, something shifting inside me as I look down at my legs.
The purple changes. It splits. Moves. My breath catches as I stare closer.
They’re not liquid anymore, they are moving.
Thousands of tiny black shapes, legs, bodies, crawling over my skin.
“No!” The scream rips out of me as I jerk violently in the seat, trying to shake them off. “Get them off! Get them off me!”
“What the fuck?” Loretta snaps, glancing at me.
“The bugs!” I cry, thrashing harder. “They’re on me… get them off!”
She laughs. “It’s not real, Acacia,” she says. “It’s just the drugs.”
But they are real.
I can feel them.
They crawl faster, swarming over my legs, my stomach, my chest…
Then they start to burrow.
I choke on a scream as the sensation turns unbearable, like needles pushing beneath my skin. “They’re inside me!” I gasp. “Loretta, stop them!”
She laughs louder. “Yeah, bug trips are the worst.”
My whole body convulses as I try to escape it, but I can’t move my hands, can’t claw them off, can’t stop the crawling, digging, invading feeling.
They race higher, up my neck toward my face, toward my mouth.
“No… no… no…” I sob, my voice breaking into hysterical screams as I thrash uselessly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, shut up!” Loretta snaps.
I can’t.
I can’t stop.
They’re everywhere…
Under my skin.
Inside me.
“Oh, fuck it.” Her fist slams into the side of my face, and pain explodes.
The world tilts violently…
Then everything drops away, and darkness swallows me whole.