Page 11 of Love is Blind

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty broken too. Besides, I didn’t ask for a warning, Em, or your opinion. I just asked for a description.”

“Birdie, you show up on my doorstep after ignoring my calls for three months, with a suitcase in your hand and you don’t say anything. You don’t tell me where you’ve been, or why you’ve been dodging me. I’m just supposed to smile and pretend everything is fine, but in reality, I didn’t know if you were dead or alive.”

Oh God.

Always so dramatic this one.

I unfold my arms and roll my eyes—yes, blind people can roll their eyes and in case you were wondering, we can blink too, but don’t challenge us to a staring contest.

“That’s not true,” I argue. “I texted you.”

“You texted me an emoji of a middle finger two months ago.”

Sounds about right.

“Right there you should’ve known I was fine. That’s like my calling card.”

Honestly, I didn’t even know I did that. The last few months have been hell, between finding out my ex-boyfriend is a drug dealer, getting arrested, and being forced to work for Ralphie, I didn’t think to call my cousin. Besides, what would I have said? Hey, Em, guess who is smuggling drugs into prison?

Yeah, no thanks.

That emoji saved me a lot of headaches.

“Birdie, please,” she hisses. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but getting involved with the vice president of the Satan’s Knights motorcycle club is not going to fair well for you.”

I perk up at that little nugget of information.

“Motorcycle club,” I repeat, tapping my finger to my chin. “I don’t think I’ve been with a biker before.”

“Goddamn it, Birdie, would you listen to me? You’re drunk as fuck, wearing polka dot pajamas and rainboots inside a bar. You’re a mess.”

First off, I’m notthatdrunk. Second, polka dot pajamas can be cute. The rainboots—well, I’m pulling the blind card with that one.

That aside, I didn’t come here so she could babysit me or judge me. I needed an escape and she’s the only family I’ve got left, but I’m starting to sense I’d be better off taking my chances on the street. Apparently, my dear cousin has grown a chip on her shoulder the last three months. Well she can take that chip and her holier than thou attitude and shove them both where the sun don’t shine.

I grip the edge of the bar and slide off the stool. Reaching behind me, I grab my jacket from the back of my stool and quickly shrug it on.

“Birdie,” Emmy calls.

But I don’t pay her any mind as I slide my hand into my pocket and pull out my cane. I unfold it and listen as it snaps into place. Then I turn around.

I’ve never needed anyone before, and I don’t need anyone now.

“Where are you going?”

I pause midstride and twist my head slightly so that I face her.

“To make more of a mess out of things. Wanna watch?”

Chapter Three

Ghost

Bracingmy hands on the edge of the vanity, I lift my chin and stare at my reflection in the mirror. My dark hair hangs haggardly over my eyes making me look even more rancid than usual and suddenly, the urge to smash my fist against the mirror claws at me.

How fucking cruel is it that a man as vile as me can look in the mirror any time he wants—that he can see the scars of his past shine through the depth of his irises.

The death.

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