Page 24 of Worse Fates
“Golden, I know this is a lot to take in.”
I don’t find my love. Instead, I find something else.
‘FUCK YOU! I’m no replacement!’ His message is written in jam on the mirror, the words dripping together.
Panic seizes me.
Frantically, I search the small area until I find an open window. Small, but big enough for Golden to crawl out and vanish into the night.
Chapter Nine - Golden
Men really are trash, and I should’ve readAnne Ricemore carefully—vampire men are the worst of them.
Lucero looked me dead in the eye, joy flowing out of him in buckets, and told me I was a reincarnated version of his past boyfriends. Like I’d be happy.
Fuck. That.
I’d rather die alone.
So I ran, and I’ve been running now for four days.
I’m marching down a busy street in the city, trying to outpace my racing thoughts and lose myself in crowds bundled in winter jackets. And not even the night sky is thick enough to smother every shopfront’s blinding flashing signs. Apparently big sales are on.
The pathway is so tightly packed I can hardly breathe. Cars honk, hyper pop music screeches.
It’s been like this for days now. Every thought, feeling, and fucking sound trying to crack me open.
The air in my lungs expands until it’s lodged in place. I force my way through the buzzing colourful swarm, to stumble into an alleyway stinking of rotten milk and piss.
Pulse ricocheting against my too-tight skin, blood rushes between my ears.
I pace up and down, up and down—then everything screams out of me in a string of curses. Reeling back my leg, and with more force than I thought possible, I kick an already dented bin with a cathartic yell.
It clatters to the dirty floor, lid spinning off, and rolling into a stack of soggy day-old newspaper.
I heave out my long trapped breath.
Then the steam dissipates, the noise fades, and I’m left hollow. Whatever anger I had gone.
Letting out a loud groan, my back drops on the brick wall, cold seeping through my combat jacket and…fine, I’ll admit to still wearing Lucero’s coat. I pull it closer, hating myself a little for the comfort it brings, and stare blankly at my scuffed boots.
Tired, defeated, I slowly pull my phone from my pocket and wake it up at twenty percent life, and bring up my voicemail.
“Hey, goofball,” Jace says from the speaker, and I curl myself around it. “Have you lost your phone again? Answer it already! Anyway, just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home, see you in a bit. Love ya.”
Leaving home for good was the hardest thing I’d ever done.
And then I went and found myself another monster.
Lucero’s love is powerful, and the worst part is how easy it’d be just to love him back.
Maybe if the love he had for me was real I could trust him. But Lucero doesn’t want me, does he?
Nah, that fine man ain’t even looking at me.
Why would he? It’s a joke, really. All he wants is the piece of piss soul I’ve got knocking around inside me like a pinball.
And here I thought my name was so original—Golden. All mine and rarer than diamonds. But it’s just another hand-me-down…anotherthing, another piece of me that doesn’t belong to me.
