Page 71 of Devanté
“You and her need to get out and if you leave now, I won’t destroy the rest of your shit because I’m headed to the PlayStation next, motherfucker.”
“Okay. Okay…I’m leaving. Can I pack a bag?” He asked, his chest heaving.
My face warped into a childish expression as I mocked him, “Can I pack a bag?” I rolled my eyes. “Fuck. No. Get out. Wear her clothes since you’re such a bitch.” I shoved him and he stumbled backward over Kenzie, sending her crashing to the floor. He barely looked behind him to see if she was okay. Asshole.
“Okay, I’m leaving. We’re leaving.” He held his hands out and I lowered the knife momentarily, having a moment of sanity.
“Wait,” I said rushing to my nightstand for a piece of paper from my journal. I tore it out and shoved it toward him with a pen.
“What the fuck is this, Blake?”
“Sign it,” I gritted out. He snatched the paper and scribbled his name on a random line then gave it back. I took it and folded it a few times before putting it in my bra then I lifted my hand above my head ready to swing the knife if both of them didn’t get the fuck out of my house.
They nearly trampled each other trying to leave. When I heard the front door slam, my arm fell and my eyes closed.
He really made me lose my goddamn mind and chase him with a knife. Jesus, I needed more than a drink. I wished like hell I smoked weed or had some edibles on hand. I needed to take the edge off.
I climbed the steps with heavy bones and waning adrenaline. When I reached my room, I rolled my eyes at the pile of ruined clothes in the closet. I fell backward on my bed and let the knife lay beside me.
When my phone rang, I grabbed it and slid the bar over before focusing on the name. I thought it was Noa calling to check on me.
Wrong.
It was my mother.
“Blake, we need to talk about my fiftieth birthday.” Her voice was the last thing I wanted to hear.
“Ma, not now,” I sighed, rubbing my forehead.
“Yes. Right now. It’s not like you’re doing anything, baby. You don’t have a social life.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned. “I’ll call you later.” I ended the call and a swarm of sharp prickles blanketed my skin. My cheeks were hot and my eyes burned. I knew what was coming next.
I let the tears roll.
…and roll.
…and roll.
…
