“What?” I demanded, annoyed, but he just ignored me and began nervously pacing the room, running his fingers through his thick hair.
“Take a seat. Watching you is making my headache worse,” I grumbled again, trying to hold completely still so I’d feel less pain. Every time I triedto get up, even just to piss, vertigo forced me to sit back down. So I’d decided to avoid any sudden movements for the time being.
I was confident, though, that Xavier wasn’t doing much better. He might have even landed in the hospital. Maybe I’d broken something. The knowledge that I’d beaten his ass wasn’t exciting to me; it was worrying. I’d come across a formidable opponent for once. Members of the Krew were strong. Any scuffle between us always ended badly for everyone.
“How are you feeling?” Logan asked, stopping to give me a concerned look.
“I’m fine. Not the first time this has happened,” I answered shortly.
How many street fights had I gotten into?
“Is your head still spinning?” he pressed, and I rolled my eyes at him.
“Shut up and hand me a cigarette.” I needed to smoke and to stop listening to my brother.
Thankfully, Logan didn’t fight me and just gave me a dirty look instead. He grabbed my pack of Winstons from the kitchen island and handed it to me. I extracted a cigarette and clamped it between my lips, allowing him to light it up for me.
“There, you’re making yourself useful for once,” I sneered, taking my first drag.
I didn’t want him fretting over me. I was fine. My only real problem would be confronting our mother and her irritating questions. I’d rather she didn’t see me like this.
“Run interference with Mom. I’ll sleep out here. I don’t want to deal with her shit,” I told him, hoping he’d be on my side.
Logan frowned and sighed.
“And what am I supposed to tell her when she asks me where you are?”
“Tell her I’m out here with Jennifer or whoever. Make sure she knows I’m busy and she shouldn’t disturb me.” It was the only plausible excuse I could think of to avoid her. My mother knew all about my habits and that I used to indulge in them in my bedroom before moving them to the pool house. She’d never asked me a direct question about my sex life; she was far too embarrassed to talk about it, so I knew that just hearing I had company would be enough to keep her from coming to look for me.
“Okay, so you can dodge her for tonight, but what are you going to do tomorrow morning? Sooner or later, she’s going to get a look at you, and she’ll see what happened to you.” Clearly my brother wanted to discuss future problems while I was still trying to solve the ones right in front of us. I huffed and kept smoking, silently grateful for how the cigarette calmed me like a tranquilizer.
“Logan,” I snapped, “tomorrow’s another day, and I’ll think about it tomorrow.”
Huff.
Christ, we were so different, him and me.
I was impulsive, reckless, wild, shameless, and much less prone to worry in advance.
Logan, on the other hand, was Logan: always planning, thinking, analyzing, and being a pain in the ass about all of it.
“Okay, okay, chill out,” he said defensively.
“Can you get out of here and leave me alone?” I asked in a bored tone. I wanted to relax in the quiet, have a smoke, and tolerate my aching ribs in peace. Logan glared again because he obviously wanted to keep badgering me, but, fortunately, he walked toward the door instead.
“I’ll be back in a little while. I’m just going to call Alyssa. She was supposed to come over an hour ago, and she still hasn’t gotten here. Don’t move,” he warned.
I shooed him away with one hand, and he left, slamming the door behind him.
Good, I was finally alone.
I propped my head up on the arm of the sofa and stared at the ceiling, thinking back over everything that had happened. Everything I experienced during that time was a clear sign that I needed help. Help that I should have just asked for, as I hadn’t been doing for the past three years. If I didn’t, I was going to have a total breakdown and destroy whatever thread of sanity I still had.
My reaction to Xavier had been abnormal, just like it was abnormal to be unable to orgasm or have a stable human relationship. Little by little, my memories were devouring me; my past self was pushing into my presentwith the intention of warping my future. I had to fight back. I had to stop him; otherwise he was going to win, and I would lose.
There was only one truth: Nothing and no one else could save me.
I—and I alone—could save myself.
