Page 3 of Prince of Pain

“Good. It means it's working,” I scoffed. “You know when I get out, things will be different, right? I want to stay clean.”

She frowned, tilting her head with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I won’t be partying and popping pills anymore,” I said confidently, a small smile on my face. “I need to focus on my future, which I can’t do when I’m throwing my life away. There’s more to life than partying.”

“Doubtful,” she shrugged, her shoulders tensing. “Fucking and partying is about as good as it gets.”

I hesitated before reaching across the table to take her hand, stopping her from tearing at the skin around her bright red acrylic nails that she’d absently been picking at for the past few minutes.

She instantly threaded her fingers through mine, hope filling her eyes like it always did when I was too fucking nice.

“Temp, I care about you, but you need to start caring about yourself too. You’ve admitted you’re miserable, and I’ve patched up your self-harm cuts multiple times. You spend more time hating yourself than anyone else ever could. You’re gorgeous, funny, and smarter than you give yourself credit for. I really wish you’d see that.”

She pulled her hand from mine, refusing to meet my eye. “You think you’re better than me now that you’re in this fancy facility? You’ll always be an addict and a playboy. This life-changing bullshit won’t magically fix you. We’re like broken toys, Ryder. It’s so easy for people to just throw us away.”

“I never said it would fix me,” I said calmly, leaning back to watch her while trying to figure out what was going on inside her head. She spent a lot of time suffering silently, and I hated that. “There’s nothing wrong with being broken.”

“People like us? We’re incapable of love. Our families look at us with pity and confusion, wondering where they went wrong. I’ve heard my own father say that about me, and I can guarantee your parents have said it about you at some point. You know what our futures look like?” she asked lightly, holding my gaze with no emotion. “Hospital trips, multiple rehab stays, and the fucking morgue. Might as well enjoy it while you can.”

She got to her feet and I forced myself not to do the same.

Tempest wasn’t my problem to fix, so if she wanted to self-destruct, then I’d have no choice but to let her and pray she made it out alive on her own.

“I’ll see you again soon,” she said despite the annoyance she was obviously feeling, and I simply nodded before watching her leave, her ass swaying as she went.

She’d be back within the next week, she always was.

Fifty-six days to go, then I was out of here, and I hadn’t been lying when I’d told her things would be different.

I’d do anything to stay clean.

Fucking anything.

Chapter One

Tempest

Present Day

My ass hit the hood of a random guy's car as he dropped me onto it, standing between my legs as he shoved his tongue down my throat. My nails clawed at his chest, and I vaguely heard someone calling my name.

I pulled back to look around through my drunken haze, finding a blurry-looking Luna walking towards me.

I groaned, flipping her off. “Fuck off, Luna. I’m busy.”

“Dad’s been trying to call you,” she said softly, as if I hadn’t noticed my phone ringing for the past two hours.

We were at the Donovans’ racetrack in Ashburn Valley, and whoever this guy was, he’d been more than happy to bail on his race to fuck me on his car. We were out in the open, but it was dark where we were parked.

I’d fuck in the middle of the lit up track if I had to, an audience didn’t bother me.

Just a typical Friday night.

“Temp,” Luna repeated when I ignored her, making me growl as I pushed the guy back to glare at her.

“Where’s your fucking girlfriend? Tell her to sit on your face or something so you can shut the fuck up.”

Her cheeks heated, always getting so easily embarrassed, but Riley materialized out of nowhere, her baseball bat in hand and a flat look on her face. “You always act like I can’t hear the way you speak to her. I thought we were past this?”

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