Page 2 of Inside the Maelstrom: Part One
The cop climbed out, opening the rear door for me. He gave me another one of those smiles that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and tilted his head for me to get out. I was probably the most docile person he’d had in the back of the police car, doing exactly as I was told, pulling my backpack out after me. Everything here was supplied apparently, but my parents had packed me a few things they thought I’d need.
I didn’t reallyneedanything, especially not the stuffed toy cat I’d had on my bed since I was five, or three battered paperbacks. But it made them feel better, and I was enough of an emotional black hole that I could let them have this comfort.
The cop held open the front door for me, and I stepped into the foyer. A plain woman bustled over, smiling politely at me and beaming at the cop. I looked over my shoulder at him, and I guess he was handsome in a plain, moon face kind of way. So was she. They’d have plain, round-face, average-looking kids.
The cop grinned back at her. “Hey, Peaches. Got another Invol for you. This is Aviva. She’s a good kid.”
I tilted my head at the smiling woman. She had orange-blonde hair that kind of resembled the fruit. “Peaches? Is that a nickname?”
The woman shook her head, gently taking my bag from me. “Nope, just my parents being crazy stoners from Georgia.” She pointed to a sunshine yellow door. “Come on, we’ll get the initial paperwork done, and then I’ll take you to your room. Dave, there's cupcakes in the break room if you want to have a coffee before you leave?”
There was a desperate hopefulness in her voice, and I let it wash over me. But I felt nothing for their budding romance. Not giddy excitement or embarrassment for Peaches or jealousy. Nothing.
I signed my name on a bunch of paperwork. I was officially an adult and just because I was here involuntarily, it didn’t make me medically incompetant. Go figure. While I signed and initialed six hundred pieces of paper, Peaches went through my backpack, searching for contraband or anything I could finish myself off with, I assumed.
Giving it a tick of approval, she led me from the office with a calm efficiency. Peaches was a little bit like a balm. Her nonchalance was refreshing. She didn’t look at me like I was a waste of potential, or like I was broken, or like I was some tragic statistic. She just shooed me along like she’d seen a million girls just like me. There was something reassuring in that.
She used her ID card to go through a locked set of doors. It opened into a short hallway, and then another set of doors opened into a bright, sunny room filled with recliners and bookcases, a huge TV, and dozens of round tables.
“This is the common room. You’re welcome to come here and relax at any time.”
I looked around at the other inhabitants of the room. They ranged in ages, from a gray-haired old man to a few middle-aged women, to a guy who had to be my age, or maybe a year or two older. He watched me closely, the look in his eyes predatory.
A shiver ran down my spine. I dragged my eyes away, but watched him in my peripheral vision. He was cruelly beautiful, his lips full and twisted into a sensual expression that still somehow managed to be harsh. It was like he was appraising my weaknesses in that fifteen second stroll across the common room, and he’d pinpointed every single one.
When I looked back over my shoulder, his derisive pout had formed into a grin, and if it was possible, that scared me more. When the double doors slid shut behind us, I almost sagged with relief.
My heart was thudding, and I realized it was out of fear. I frowned, unsure if I should be happy I felt something at all, or if I should run away screaming.
Chapter1
Aviva
Two Months Later
“How could anyone not look at me and be disgusted?”
The slightly nasally voice grated inside my skull, and I looked over at Yvonne, who was fucking beautiful. You could tell her mother was a former Eastern European beauty queen—her cheekbones were so sharp, they all but glinted like blades in the stark fluorescent lighting.
Yvonne would be beautiful too, if she weren’t so thin she looked like the walking, talking skeleton of a runway model. Eating disorders had no rhyme or reason though; they just warped your vision like a hall of mirrors.
There were mutters of protest, but I tuned them out. Group therapy was the worst part of the day, and considering this treatment center was basically a glorified prison, that was saying something. I tucked my legs up until I could rest my chin on my knees. Turning my face to the side, I looked outside at the beautiful sunny day I probably wouldn’t get to appreciate if everyone was feeling as chatty as Yvonne. Once upon a time, the pool that shimmered on the grounds of the facility would have called to me like a siren song, but not today.
It was stupid, really. Why put a pool in a rehab filled with people who wanted to off themselves? It was almost a self-fulfilling prophecy. Except the pool was locked up tighter than Alcatraz, and Corey—who was the nurse/lifeguard who patrolled it when it was open—was built like a fucking wall of muscle, and would drag your ass up from the bottom, then give you mouth-to-mouth.
Corey was a nice guy. He’d give you mouth to other things, if you knew the right words to ask.
I should know. A girl had to get her kicks somehow in here, and my roommate was a bit of a downer, so it wasn’t like I could flick the bean while she was in the room.
My eyes snagged on a golden back and broad shoulders flexing in the sun, making the water drops shimmer like diamonds on his skin in the Florida sun.
I curled my lip in disgust. Hendrick fucking Kenley. Of course he’d be outside enjoying the fucking day, instead of being stuck in hours of group therapy. I didn’t know who he’d paid off to be exempt, but he only ever had to go to his one-on-one sessions. Even then, I was fairly sure he just napped on the couch and Dr. Arubat signed off on it.
I’d found out he was the youngest in a dynasty of tycoons. The Kenleys literally had their hand in every big business maneuver in the US. We’d done a case study on his grandfather in my Econ class. Rumor had it that his daddy wanted to upgrade from senator to President, and that’s why Hendrick was here getting clean.
Well, I assumed he was here for drug abuse. His file was closed, and not even Corey could tell me why. I’d asked him if he could find out, while he’d been fucking some feelings into me. Never worked, but at least I got some form of release from the whole experience.
No, I was just guessing about the real reason Hendrick was here, and I wasn’t the only one. There were a lot of rumors flying around; I’d heard everything from a cocaine habit to a sex addiction.
