Page 8 of Justyce
That was two years ago. Clenching my jaw, I ready myself for what I’m about to tell my boyfriend of three years, because it has to be done.
My skin breaks out in horripilation, goosebumps peppering my skin as my stomach sinks and I wrap the fluffy pink towel around me.
Water splashes over the tiled floor before James’s feet hit the ground. Slowly I turn around to face the man that has tried to love me in every way possible, every way that he knows how. Sadly, it wasn’t enough for me. When my blues find his, a sense of guilt blankets me. The brown towel hangs low on his hips and I curse the God’s for not allowing me to fall in love with someone normal, someonesafe.
I offer him a sad smile and say, “I’m sorry, James. I…” I’m cut off by my phone blaring in the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”
“Take your time,” he mumbles
My eyebrow quirks but I realize I don’t have the right to be pissed at his retort. Supporting the towel with my hand, I run down the hallway to answer my phone, careful not to slip on the tiles.
My blood turns to ice and my stomach bottoms out when I see my step-father’s name light up the screen.
I haven’t spoken to my mother or my step-father in eleven years. I closed out their negative bullshit and their constant guilt trips, severing our connection.
My hand shakes as I pick up the phone. It feels like a goddamn grenade in my palm. I recall my earlier thought and know my gut feeling is about to prove me right once again.Damn intuition!
Reluctantly I slide my finger across the screen and answer. “Hello?”
“Thank fuck, Kenzi! You need to get your ass home right now,” Dereke slurs.
Fury travels from my feet to find its way to my now pounding skull. How fucking dare he call me after eleven years demanding I return to that hellhole.
Breathing heavily in and out my mouth, I slowly count to ten before readying to rip this asshole a new one. But Dereke speaks before me, shattering any semblance of righteousness.
“Before you get on that damn high unicorn of yours, I’m ringing for a reason. You need to come home because your mother. She’s dying.”
I don’t register that I’ve dropped my phone until I hear it clamor against the tiled floor. I hear James shouting my name but it sounds far away, seeing his faded worried blue eyes is the last thing I remember as I pass the fuck out.
Chapter Four – Kenzi
I wake in a panic, jolting upright. I feel disorientated and I can’t remember what the hell happened. Taking in the lavender curtains, timber dressing table and tiled floors, I realize I’m in my bedroom.
Bringing my hands up to the side of my head, I begin to rub small circles around my temples, trying to ease the migraine that is galloping through my fucking skull.
I groan and apply more pressure to my temples in hopes it will relieve the ache that is steadily making me feel nauseous. I squint my eyes through the agony, attempting to recollect what the hell went down last night.
A light snore snaps me from my thoughts and I turn to see James lying next to me with the sheet wrapped loosely around his waist. His muscles contract with every breath and slowly the evening comes back to me.
The lacking sex in the shower, me pretending that James rocks my world when clearly he doesn’t. My mind dries up and I will my memories to keep snowballing because something important happened. I can feel it in my tumbling belly.
It’s in reach, and so is this relentless ache in my head, but I focus my energy on retracing my steps, and then it slams into me like a damn freight train. I was about to tell James it’s over between us but my phone rang, interrupting me from the tedious task of breaking up with him.
I double over, nauseous taking front and center and run to the bathroom to pray to the porcelain god. I retch, vomiting up the red wine from last night.
When no more comes up, I swipe across my lips with the back of my hand, flush the toilet and sit back on my heels. That’s when the heat floods behind my eyes and I feel the wetness coat my skin. My mother is dying.
Alley was never a good mother but she was still my mother. I try and block out the bitter stench of vomit, but it only seems to trigger a memory that I’d much prefer to leave in the past.
At seventeen, sneaking out of your parent’s house shouldn’t be so damn easy, especially when the Mafia own the town. Any normal, loving parent would protect their child, love their child, but my parents weren’t normal.
Lifting the pink peeling window as quietly as I can, I take one last look, making certain I locked my poor excuse for a bedroom door.
Taking my heels off, I lift one leg up and place it outside the window, feeling the cool breeze billowing around me, freezing me in place. I shouldn’t be going to this party with Bianca, but when she mentioned there was free booze and Justyce would be there, I couldn’t pass the opportunity to make his life a little less perfect.
I know I get under his skin. I see the way he looks at me and shiver at the memory. His eyes not only fuck me, they want to defile my every being. I know I’m playing with fire but that doesn’t stop me as I duck outside my window and steady myself so as to not slip on the tin roof.
The thread beat of the music blares from inside the house and I know my mom will be racking up a line or searching for a spoon she can bend back and use for her heroine.
