Page 261 of Shadowman
Fuck you fuck you—
“Fuckyou!” Growling out loud, I lift and slam his head down onto the concrete floor.
He winces in pain, but it doesn’t feel good like it’s supposed to, andI hate it!
“It was supposed to feel better than this,” I choke out, jumping off of him. “Whereare you, Leo?! Stophidingevery time I need you, selfish bloody bastard!”
Staggering away, tripping over my feet, I race back upstairs, going straight to the room where Dr. Johansson and Dr. Hassan are working. I fly in like a bat out of hell, and they both look up, startled.
“Get down there!” I roar, wheezing and shaking. “Right now! Make him fuckingbleed. I want him to rue the day he ever stepped into my life like he couldfucking help me, because hecan’t!” I’m heaving, fisting my hair as I breathe out ragged, “No one can.”
Their faces are the picture of baffled uncertainty, but I just growl again, “Go.Now.”
And they nod, grabbing their bags of supplies and sauntering off to obey my orders. But the power in it is doing nothing for me. I feel nothing but impotence and insecurity.
Storming to the kitchen, I ransack the place foranythingthat will numb me. I can’t take it anymore. I don’t want to feel this. I don’t want to feelanything.
What I wouldn’t give for some bloody heroin right now.
The Ivory’s cartel blokes must be able to get it. Maybe I could blow one of them for a bag…
The way my brain goes to this so easily, like a physiological response, only makes me angrier, and makes me hate myself more. After several minutes of tearing through the mansion like a twister, I stumble upon The Ivory’s bar. Grabbing the firstbottle I see, I unscrew the cap with trembling fingers. I’m about to dump the entire thing down my throat when I feel something buzzing in my pocket.
I pause, bottle at my lips.Huh…
Pulling out the cellphone, I stare at it in shock. It’s ringing. It’sonand actuallyringing.
I take too long balking at it, and end up missing the call. Placing the bottle of booze down with athunk, I rush around a corner for some privacy, taking a deep breath. And then I redial the number that just called.
It rings only twice before a male voice answers. “Hello?”
My lips part. But I say nothing.
“Hello??Joy??” the person asks frantically.
Well, that explains whose phone it is.
And that voice is awfully familiar…
My heart rate evens out, lips sloping into a grin. “Hello… Luthor.”
I’m wading through emotional muck, waist-deep andsinking.
Byron… ended things. He hates me.
Dr. Love is still trying to help me, despite my having him tortured.
And then that phone call…
They’re not dead.
I just spoke to Luthor on the phone. He and Ren are very muchalive. I’m not surehow, or where they are. Those are questions I would have asked if I were a good person. But I’m not.
Luthor and Ren are worried about their friends, about Byron. Becausetheyare good.
But me?
I’m pure black mold.
