“You can talk to me about anything,” I assure her. “That’s what I’m here for.”
“Is it?” she whispers, then lowers herself onto the pillow. I figure she’s upset with me again, but then she rolls to her side and rests her arm across her stomach.
I can’t help myself. I pull her closer and breathe in the scent of her vanilla shampoo. She buries her face in my chest and then presses a kiss to the scar on my neck. My heart jolts to life, and I painfully realize something.
I’m not just going to go down in flames. I’m already on fire, and it’s only a matter of time before I’m probably going to burn to death.
Chapter 4
A Visit From Evil
Emery
My head is pounding and every single one of my muscles throb. My mouth feels dry as sand, my throat burns like fire, and I reek of sweat. Sunlight streams through my window and onto the back of my neck, heating my skin. I’m so tired, too exhausted to open my eyes.
Ryler left sometime in the middle of the night, and the bed feels so empty without him. Last night was utterly amazing, although brief. Ryler was so sweet, too, so sweet I momentarily forgot who he works for. If only he didn’t work for my father. I’d ask him to run away with me. I don’t even care how fairytale-ish that sounds. I want to get the hell out of this life, far, far, away where I’ll never be found again. And if Ryler were with me, then my start wouldn’t be so lonely and maybe easier to face.
“I’d open them if I were you,” Ellis’s voice fills my head, “because she’s coming.”
“Who’s coming?” I murmur, burying my head into the pillow.
Hangover or not, I don’t regret what happened last night. For once, I felt like I was being normal, drinking, dancing, and yes, even saying absurd things to Ryler about being pretty.
“Emery, I’m warning you,” Ellis says in a panic. “Evil is coming. Get out before she takes you down.”
My eyes snap open at the precise moment I hear the click of the lock from the front door. Only four people have a key to my place; me, Ryler, my father, and my…
“Emery,” my mother calls out, the door clicking shut. “Where are you?”
I freeze, contemplating what to do next. Maybe if I just stay put, she’ll leave.
“That’s a stupid thought.” Ellis appears in front of me. “And you’re not a stupid girl.” He waves his hand at me. “Now, hurry up and get the butterfly back on you before she finds out.”
“The butterfly?” I ask, and then it clicks. I push up from the bed, my gut churning as I remember how I took the bracelet off last night. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”
“Emery, I’m giving you five seconds to answer me and then I’m going to punish you,” my mother says.
I can hear her rummaging around in my cupboards, probably looking for my pills. I hurry and run a comb through my hair, apply some lip-gloss, but then shudder when I glance at my reflection in the mirror. For my entire life, Mother has forced me to focus on my looks. Beauty on the outside is all that matters to her. Right now, I look like shit. Plain and simple. And she’s going to be majorly pissed off.
“Good, let her be pissed,” I mutter to myself. “I’m a grown woman. I shouldn’t have to be afraid of my mother.”
Ellis shakes his head with a frown etched in his face. “If you could remember what happened to me, you wouldn’t be saying that.”
I glance over my shoulder at him. “What do you mean?”
Before he can answer, my mother appears in the doorway. Ellis slinks back and vanishes into the wall.
“Who were you talking to?” my mother asks, glancing around my room suspiciously. “And what in God’s name happened in here?” She pulls a face at the clothes on the floor, the unmade bed, and the trash bin overflowing with wrappers and soda cans. “This place is disgusting.”
“I’ve been too busy with school and haven’t had time to clean,” I lie, running my fingers through my tangled hair.
Her eyes narrow on me. “You look like a disaster.”
“Thank you,” I reply dryly, my head pulsating. I’m too hung over to deal with her shit.
She points a finger at me and jabs me in the throat. “Don’t you dare take that tone with me. Now get your ass out into the living room. We have some things to discuss about last night.”
About last night?
Swimming in a sea of confusion, I trail behind her, following her into the living room.
She strides straight for the coffee table, shoves the record player out of the way, and snatches up my bracelet. “Now, would you like to tell me where you were last night?” She spins on her heels, facing me. “Or should I tell you?”
Her face is flawlessly smooth, even more than it was the last time I saw her, which means she probably had more work done. She’s wearing a perfectly pressed blue pantsuit, and her hair is pulled back into a tight bun. Perfection. Perfection. Perfection. The word is written all over her, yet her perfection isn’t real. It’s just a facade, like everything else in my world. Each piece of my life is created to make people believe everything is perfect, so no one will ever suspect a thing.
“You should probably tell me,” I dare reply, mainly because I’m not about to admit anything she doesn’t know yet.
She huffs in irritation. “Don’t play dumb with me, Emery. I know you went out last night with that loser guy your father has working for him.”