Shit. My thumbs fly across the screen.
Olivia:
I’ve been sleeping. I’m feeling a little better. Don’t come over.
Penn:
I was literally starting my truck. Can I see you? I can come now or after the show.
The dull but persisten ache in my chest flares up again, but I force myself to stay strong. I’ll crumble if I see him right now. It’s still too fresh.
Olivia:
Sorry no. I’m going to go back to sleep. Maybe tomorrow. I’ll let you know how I feel then.
Penn:
Okay. Good night, Barbie.
I toss my phone on the bed, deciding a long, hot bath is exactly what I need. That will fix me right up. I soak until my skin shrivels, then crawl into bed. Newsflash: it didn’t fix anything. My heart still hurts. I’m going to have to face Penn soon. I just took on Chad. I can take Penn on, too, right? He hasn’t been in my life nearly as long, so it should be easier. Even as the idea floats through my mind, I know it’s not true.
This one’s going to hurt.
38
PENN
“Doyou want to go with me?” I ask my sister, who sits curled on my couch, flipping through the channels. I don’t have many streaming options because I rarely watch TV, but I keep National Geographic and the Discovery Channel for Travis.
“I’d love to.” She drops the remote and stands, but then looks down at her clothes, wincing. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
I swallow the anger burning my throat and give her a forced smile. “You can wear one of my shirts.” I head back to my room and grab one of my old band T-shirts and a flannel since it’s chilly tonight. I toss them to her, and she smiles gratefully, then shuffles into the bathroom to change.
The minute she’s out of sight, I blow out a breath. It surprised the fuck out of me when Pacey showed up at the bar we were playing at, and I still haven’t fully processed everything. She came with the remnants of a black eye. That sent my blood pressure through the goddamn roof. One she swears shegot by tripping over a pile of laundry and hitting her coffee table and not by the hands of a dead motherfucker.
I still don’t know if I buy her story. She claims she’s been sober for six months and has been slowly planning her escape, but her dickwad of a boyfriend hadn’t wanted her to go, hadn’t wanted her to get clean, and made it damn near impossible for her to leave. Forcing her to sneak out after a shift at the diner she’d been working at so he wouldn’t know. A coworker dropped her off at the bar after she found us through Instagram. She didn’t have anything with her but the clothes on her back, not even her phone.
I offered to collect her things, also giving me the opportunity to fuck him up for making shit difficult for her, but she promised she didn’t want anything from there and she just needed time. I’m not sure how much I can give her, though. My fists have been itching to hit something for two days. She doesn’t know it, but the first night she showed up and passed out in my spare room, I slipped out and drove to his house. I was pissed and ready to end him, but of course, he wasn’t home.
“Do I look okay?” Pacey asks.
My shirt swallows her small frame. She started losing weight after our dad died and never put it back on. But she looks like the old her again, smiling and her eyes are clear this time—aside from the leftover bruising—and that’s a good sign.
“You look great. Let’s go.”
“Goddamn! It’s hot in here!”Travis yells, fanning himself with his shirt.
Everyone nods as we file off the stage. This hole-in-the-wall bar is in downtown Providence. They reached out to us sayingthey had a slot to fill, and even though it’s a weeknight and the pay was absolute shit, we didn’t have anything else to do.
The crowd was a mix of college kids and some older people, but no one booed us, so that’s a plus.
“I’ll be right back,” Trav says, walking away. My eyes follow, and I see Ellie standing near the bar. He didn’t mention she was coming. I perk up. Maybe Olivia started feeling better and is here too. But after glancing around and catching no sight of her, I head back to the makeshift room they set up for us, ready to grab my guitar case and get the hell out of here.
I have so much shit I need to tell Olivia. She’s been too sick to talk to me, and I haven’t slept since she left.
My sister is sitting on the worn love seat, and there’s a bottle of liquor on the table in front of her. I immediately straighten my spine and narrow my eyes.
She jumps, pointing to the bottle. “It was already here! I didn’t touch it!”
