“Willow don’t mean nothing to me,” he whispered into my hair, his voice a low rumble under my ear. “I told her it’s done. We aint seen each other in six years. She was just trying’ to get a rise out of you tonight. And baby,” he said with amusement in his tone, “she got it.”
I didn’t answer. I was already sinking into the warmth of him, the alcohol pulling me under. In the safe, quiet dark of his old room, with the distant sounds of his family laughing below, I drifted off to sleep.
Chapter eleven
Day eleven
Sky
I woke up abruptly. If I were writing this scene, I’d probably say something like my head felt like constructionhammers were swinging against my temples with every pulse of my heart. But I wasn’t writing, so I’ll leave it at this...my head fucking hurt.
The pain got worse as the memories started rolling back in. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand. It was after 11:00 a.m. Monday morning. I had been at Zio’s mama’s house for over twelve hours.
I slammed my hand over my mouth and mock-screamed, kicking my feet under the covers.
God, I was a mess. A magnificent, walking, talking catastrophe.
I shifted, and the scent of laundry detergent and man hit me. Zio wasn’t in the bed, but his side was still warm. I sat up, clutching the blue comforter to my chest. I was still in that lace slip dress. It was twisted, wrinkled, and smelled like Sunday night mistakes and expensive bourbon.
Where was Zio? He was either downstairs or, worse, he’d left me there to face the firing squad alone. My eyes darted around the room. There were two escapes... the bedroom door and the window. It was only two floors; I could probably jump and only break an ankle.
A limp was a small price to pay for avoiding the walk of shame through a kitchen full of his relatives.
I groaned, burying my face in my hands.
I needed to talk to my momma.
I sat on the edge of the blue comforter and dialed. My hands were shaking. I called and she didn’t answer, so I called again, then again until she did—because if I was dealing with this, she was too. She was part of the reason I was like I was.
“Sky? Why are you calling me back-to-back? I’m in the middle of my stories.”
“Mama,” I whispered, my voice cracking. I was on the verge of crying. I could feel the tears coming on. “You have to come get me. Please. I’m at his mother’s house. I’m in his childhood bed. I… I argued with a random woman over him in front of his whole family, Mama. I was drunk. I was high. I’m wearing a dress that shows my soul. I don’t have my car. I can’t go out there. I’mma climb out the window and you pull up.”
There was a beat of silence. I expected comfort. I expected her to tell me she was grabbing her keys.
Then came the laugh. It started as a chuckle and turned into that deep, soul-cleansing belly laugh that always made me feel small.
“Mama, please stop! It’s not funny. I’m trapped! I’m in the belly of the beast!”
“Sky,” she said, catching her breath. “You are a grown woman. A little bit of embarrassment and your first instinct is to jump out a window? Girl, stay there and eat some breakfast and explain yourself.”
I wasn’t trying to hear the logical shit she was saying. “You aren’t coming? You gotta come get me!”
“Hell no. I’m about to go to lunch with your daddy. You need to face that boy and stop acting like a character in one of your books. Life is messy, Sky. Get used to it.”
“You are a bad mother!” I hissed. “A truly terrible, unsupportive mother! I’m going to write you into my next book and kill you off in chapter two!”
She laughed at me again. “Goodbye, Sky.”
The line went dead. I stared at the screen, betrayed. My own flesh and blood had abandoned me to the aunties.
I stood up and started pacing. On the dresser, I spotted a note. It was sitting on top of a set of clothes—a T-shirt and brand-new leggings.
Shower. Put this on. Come downstairs when you’re ready. I got you. – Z.
Without thinking, I did as he said and left the room. I’d faced critics on Goodreads who were less terrifying than the people I heard laughing in the kitchen downstairs.
I crept down the hallway, my bare feet silent on the wood. I rounded the corner into the kitchen and froze.
