Page 177 of Losing Faith

“Let me go.” I claw at his arms, fighting for my life.

“Don’t you see how ridiculous this is?” Sire keeps his grip on me as he walks back to the couch, but I keep fighting him off. “Who’s point are you proving right now, Lis? Mine or yours?”

“Get off!” I kick him again and he drops me on the couch as he stands over me.

“You look like a crazy person.”

“Thanks for that, but this isn’t the drugs.” I roll my eyes at him as I stand, but he shoves me back on my ass.

August steps beside him. “No, it’s the lack of them, which is even more concerning,” he says gently.

“Yeah,” Sire starts. “And you’re a fucking asshole when you’re going through withdrawals, so now that the kicking and screaming is out the way, let’s come to some kind of agreement.” He glances down at the scratches on his arm before shaking his head at me.

“I don’t need you.”

He lets out a humorless laugh and I grab a pillow before chucking it at his face.

“I mean it,” I bite out.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” I sit up taller and he focuses on me for a beat before nodding.

“Fine.” He takes a step back and I feel my brows furrow as I watch him. “If you can last more than a week sober, I’ll leave you alone to get better on your own. If you fuck up, you’re on a rotating house arrest and I’m calling Mom.”

I bit my cheek to stop myself from agreeing, but my pride is a bitch and even if the withdrawals currently eating at me want to get high, I’ll last seven days just to prove him wrong.

“Fine.” I rise from my seat.

“Fine.” He takes another step back. “But you need to see me every day. If you miss one of my calls, I’m going to assume you’re high.”

I let out a scoff. “So much for believing in me.” I shove past him before grabbing my phone. “Fuck you, Sire. I’ll check in with the twins, you can go to hell. Don’t call me.”

“You’re really going to be like that?”

I hear him walking after me, and just as I reach the door, he grabs my arm, forcing me to face him.

“You just want to check in with the twins because they won’t be able to see through your lies.”

“Get off of me.” I try to pull away but he doesn’t let me.

“Where are you going to go?”

I don’t answer and he shakes his head at me.

“You really want him to see you like this?”

“Shut up.” I shove him but he doesn’t move an inch.

“Look at you, Lisette. You’re itching for another hit. You’re seriously going to run to Isabelle like this? Like your mom—”

I slap him across the face before he can finish his sentence, and a gasp breaks the air as the twins stare at us in shock.

“Don’t compare me to her,” I warn, and when he doesn’t say anything, I shove his chest. “Don’tevercompare me to her.” I storm out, and I think it hurts more that no one stops me.

After a solid half hour of searching for my car, I find it in front of a fire hydrant. Walking towards the windshield, I snatch the bright orange ticket and rip it twice before dropping it onto the ground. It isn’t until I pull on the handle that I realize my keys are sitting on Sage’s couch.

My head drops onto my window before a defeated sigh escapes me. “I fucking hate it here.” I’d rather lay in the middle of the road behind me than go back to that apartment.

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