“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”
I sigh, setting the script down. “I don’t know, Moses. It’s probably not a good idea.”
The truth is, I’m not ready to see Silver.
It’s been a week since he took me to the twenty-four-hour clinic. I had a whole breakdown that night. Two if you count the moment in his truck as he drove me home. I snapped at him about his suggestions when he was only trying to help.
Guilt still plagues me over the fact that I told him to leave it alone.
The test results came back negative—no pregnancy and no diseases.
Kel was telling the truth about using a condom, at least. But that doesn’t make me feel much better. It doesn’t change the fact I didn’t want what happened.
I never consented to it. I still can’t even remember most of it.
The fragments Idoremember keep me up at night. The flash of him over me, my body limp and useless and refusing to cooperate. His heavy breathing as he presses me down.
New disturbing details like the motion of his body. The movement of his hips. The pain tearing me up from the inside. Yet being forced to lay there and take it.
It plays on repeat behind my eyelids every time I try to sleep. I’ve been surviving on coffee and anxiety, jumping at shadows, feeling like my skin doesn’t fit right anymore.
Which sounds insane, but there’s no other way to describe it. It’s as if I’ve been ruined. My body was taken and will never be mine in the same way again.
“You’re always complaining about how we’re never around,” Moses says, sounding genuinely offended. “But when we try to include you, suddenly you don’t wanna be part of what we’re doing?”
Damn. He’s got me there.
Ihavebeen complaining about being alone and them always being gone. Now here they are, actually inviting me to something, and I’m pushing them away.
“Fine,” I mutter, already regretting it. “I’ll go.”
Moses grins, but then his eyes narrow taking in my outfit—yet another oversized hoodie that used to be his and baggy sweatpants that hide the rest of my body.
“What’s with all the baggy clothes lately? This your new style or something?”
I pull the hoodie tighter around myself as if it can protect me from his questions. “Just comfortable.”
The truth is I can’t stand anything that shows my body anymore. I had really pushed myself to be more adventurous in recent months, wearing cropped tops and short dresses.
But in the wake of what happened with Kel, I’m not sure I want anyone looking at me right now. I barely look at myself.
Moses shrugs, apparently buying my excuse. “Whatever. We’re leaving in an hour. Try to look like you didn’t just roll out of bed.”
I drag myself off the bed and open my closet, staring at the clothes I can’t bring myself to wear anymore. I already regret saying yes.
The Steel Kings know how to throw a party. But that’s no surprise to anybody.
The patio behind the Steel Saloon is packed with leather cuts and laughter, smoke from Cash’s grill mixing with cigarette smoke and the occasional joint being passed around.
Ozzie’s got his speakers cranked up, jumping from classic rock to rap to some terrible nu-metal that makes everyone groan.
Moses was right about the families being here. Kids run around with juice boxes, old ladies cluster like they’ve formed their own little club within the club, and the mood is celebratory and festive.
At least among everyone but me.
I drift toward the old ladies’ table because it seems safer than standing alone like a weirdo.
Sydney spots me first, patting the bench beside her. “Solana! Perfect timing. We’re placing bets on who’s getting the drunkest tonight.”
