Chapter 8
Clara
It wasn’t enough.
Jayden was screwing with me when he said he’d given me a week’s supply. It wasn’t even close. It wasn’t even the right thing! I frantically tapped out a text message to him as I threw on my clothes, cursing him and telling him he better make it right.
He took all my cash. I had nothing else.
It wasn’t like I was my brother, with my own major source of income.
It wasn’t like my parents would just hand me loads of cash without demanding answers I couldn’t afford to give.
I was grasping at straws, desperate for the one thing other than Zeno I allowed myself to get addicted to.
Close to tears, I yanked my hair up into a messy bun, then grabbed my phone from the bed. Jayden’s response had those tears dripping down my cheeks.
Jay: Oops. Guess you should have knelt between my legs.
Me: Give me my money back or give me what I paid for.
Jay: Let me taste your pussy or you get nothing at all.
A cry burst from my lungs, even as I tried to smother it in my palm.
There was nothing I could do. It’s not like I could go to Stephano and tell him his friend—my dealer—screwed me out of the pills I needed just to survive. It’s not like I could tell Zeno or my parents.
What would they think?
It was bad enough I was the way I was. Add to that the fact that I was buying drugs from a dealer so I could focus long enough to read a single paragraph in a book? So I wouldn’t peel my skin from my body when my mind started playing tricks on me?
What would they think if they knew?
They’d hate me more than they already did.
Me: That’s not an option. You got my money. Don’t make me tell Stephano.
It was an empty threat, because really, Stephano wouldn’t care.
He’d blamed me when his friend assaulted me.
He’d hated me from the day I was born. What would he care if Jayden kept the roll of cash I’d been able to earn over the last summer semester?
He was just as likely to laugh in my face as he was to question how I’d come to have the money in the first place.
I couldn’t tell him that, either.
With classes not in session, it’s not like I could earn more.
After ten minutes of waiting for a response and getting nothing, I wiped the tears from my eyes, took two of the pills Jayden had given me, and hurried downstairs to the kitchen.
I’d heard the water turn off in Zee’s bathroom upstairs before I left my room, and I knew I didn’t have much time before he’d be there, demanding things from me I was certain I couldn’t do.
Zee came sauntering into the kitchen just as I finished my tepid coffee and a slice of toast. I’d only scarfed it down in order to fend off the inevitable nausea that would surely settle in from taking the pills on an empty stomach.
The moment my eyes met his, I was torn between racing to him and crying into his arms or confessing everything I’d ever done wrong.
Neither of those were an option.
Neither of those would paint me in a good light.
“You ready, kid?”
I choked back a sob and forced the fakest smile I’d ever worn to my lips. “Ready and willing.”
I couldn’t stop the lie.
On shaky legs, I followed Zee out to his car. I nearly cried again when he opened the passenger side door for me to get in. Gratefully, I climbed into my seat, trying to still my hands by clasping my fingers together and squeezing tight.
“Seatbelt on,” Zee reminded me after he’d started the car.
“Right. I knew that.” I scrambled to clip the seatbelt in place, but even at that simple task, I failed.
I’d pulled too hard, and the belt locked up, not once, not twice, but four separate times.
By the time I got it near the damn clip, I was so frustrated I almost said to hell with it and raced back into the house.
Zeno’s hands on mine were the only things stopping me from doing so.
“Hey, hey.” His voice was a soothing balm that covered every inch of my body. “It’s okay, kid. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.”
I couldn’t stop the tremor in my words. “What if I can’t do it?”
Zee took the seatbelt from my grip, fastening it before he hooked a finger under my chin and pulled my face toward his.
“What if you can?” His question had me reaching for my collarbone, my nails ready to dig into my skin.
It was only his blue eyes locked on mine, the closeness of his lips, that stopped me from drawing blood.
Five times, I tapped my collarbone.
For five beats, I forced myself to draw in a deep breath.
For five long moments, I allowed myself to dream.
What if?
What if I could?
Zee accepted my half-assed nod. He removed his hand from my chin, shifted his body away from mine. Then he was out on the road, my anxiety forgotten as he pulled into traffic.
“Where are we going?” I asked after we’d been driving for far too long.
Not that I was complaining.
It’s not like I really wanted this, to be forced into the driver's seat of a machine heavy enough to crush me flatter than a pancake.
“Paulo’s.” He didn’t react when I sucked in a sharp breath. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. I’m going to get you behind the wheel in a place that’s soothing and comfortable, where you can learn to drive without any traffic or pedestrians around.”
“I don’t want to go to Paulo’s.” What if he saw me? What if he had others there? They’d know how pathetic I was, they’d see me at my absolute worst.
First, no pills.
Now, this?
“If you want me to teach you, you’re going to do it my way.”
“Zee—”
He yanked my hand away from my breasts and the sharp red line my nail had left there. “I mean it, kid.”
I wanted to bury my head in the sand. Drive up into the mountains, and maybe drive off a cliff. Only Zee’s fingers strung between mine helped calm my nerves and tether me to my chair.
Did I do that? Or did he?
He wouldn’t look at me as he drove. He just sat there, holding my hand as he tapped his thumb against the steering wheel to the beat of the drums in the symphony playing over his satellite radio.
I tried to let the music and his presence calm me, resting my head against the back of my seat as we drove out of the city and into the bright green country that housed Paulo D’Angelo’s estate.