Page 25 of Make Me Scream
“Nothing,” I answer on instinct.
“Abel, I mean it. I am here for you. For anything. I hope you know that. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now, but I’ll do anything I can to help you through this.” And this time, when she reaches out, I force myself to stay put, even if my skin is crawling with repulsion when her skin grazes mine.
I want to burn it off—and I will just as soon as she leaves.
“I know. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done—which has been more than I’ve ever known.”
“You deserve that and more, honey.” Her words clog my throat, and I can’t say any more because then I’ll fucking cry, and that’s not going to happen. “I’m always going to be here for you, Abel. Even when…” She pauses, and I can hear the tears clogging her throat, and it’s too fucking much. I step forward and wrap my arms around her middle. Elise’s breath hitches, and then, she’s crying, arms wrapped around me and head tipped down as she holds onto me.
A few tears of my own leak through my clenched eyelids but not enough to be shown on our clothes as we hold onto each other for long minutes in the empty bathroom.
It’s one of the most memorable moments of my life.
And unfortunately, I’m about to ruin it.
I slowly pull away, and she takes it as a sign to let me go easily. She steps back and swipes her fingers under her eyes, cleaning her bleeding mascara the best she can. I reach into a stall and grab some toilet paper for her.
“Thanks, honey,” she chuckles. “Even when you’re withher,” she grinds out, “I will still do what I can to help take care of you. You’ll always be one of my kids, okay?”
I don’t know what to say to that because it can’t ever be true…
“Okay,” I whisper, staring down at the floor. A few strands of silvery-white hair drop in front of my eyes, and I’m grateful for the obstruction.
“I’m sorry to have to do this before your game. I didn’t want to distract you, but I knew you’d want to know as soon as possible, but I didn’t want to tell you over the phone.”
“No, I know,” I placate her. “This is good. I appreciate you telling me now. It’s better to know. I’ll be fine.” When she frowns, I smile widely. “I’m always fine, doc. Don’t you worry about me.”
I can tell she doesn’t know how to respond to that because after a few moments, she smiles sadly and says, “I’ll see you out there, honey. You’ll do great.” And then, she’s gone, and I’m alone, just how it should be.
The door to the stall is slamming shut, and my skirt is hiked around my waist in the next few seconds. The damn spanks are in the way, and they bite into my skin and squish my balls as I shove them up too, but the sting of the burn is what I need, so it becomes secondary as I rifle through my bag for one of my many pink lighters.
The first two only spark, irritating me, but on the third, a flame flickers to life, and I watch it dance for many seconds before releasing the trigger and immediately pressing the silver into my flesh, directly where my thighs meet so I know with every step, every jump, every cheer, I’ll feel it all night long.
My eyes roll back as my molars slam together, the rush of the sting overwhelming for the first few seconds before my breath rushes out and the euphoria engulfs me.
I lose myself to the frenzy of it.
The dance of the flame, the char of silver, and then the blister of my scarred flesh as they meet over and over.
I’m dizzy, each breath quick and gasping, but I can’t stop. My body is in flames.
“Abel!”
I startle, my eyes shooting open wide. The lighter slips from my sweaty fingers and clatters to the floor. I watch in horror as it slides across the tiled floor and out from underneath the stall.
Sierra bends down to swipe it up but hisses when her fingers make contact with the hot plastic. “You better not be getting fucking high right now, Abel,” she admonishes me.
“I-I’m n-not,” I stutter, teeth chattering in a mix of fear and adrenaline.
“Good. I know you’re going through shit, but we’ve gotta start warming up. You coming?”
“Yeah. I’ll be-be out in-in a m-minute,” I finally spit out, my eyes squeezed shut as hot tears spring to the surface. I wrap my arms around my middle and hold myself as tightly as I can, but it doesn’t do a damn thing other than make my thighs sting.
“Okay. Don’t take too long.”
Her footsteps retreat, and it’s a blissful reprieve because the moment the silence descends, the tears fall, and the sobs finally make their escape. They’re wretched and ugly and hateful—just like me.
My body is wracked with their force, and I press my palms to my freshly abused thighs to steady myself, hissing at the waves of pain it brings—but then, I straighten at the burst of clarity and squeeze a bit tighter.
