Joe nodded. “Yeah, it’s kind of a long story but it’s hers to tell, I really can’t say anymore.”
“I understand, I think. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Candy hugged her sister, trying to calm her down since she was crying again, but Sweets was losing it fast. “I’m sorry, Chaos. I didn’t know. I thought...oh my God I’ve fucked everything up. Everyone who sees my tweet is gonna think she stole some of your songs. I fucked up so bad.”
Yeah she did and they were, but I didn’t know how the fuck I was going to fix it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Cynda…
Michelle was on the phone when I came out, so I went looking for coffee. I still wasn’t hungry even though my stomach was growling. Maybe if I drank some coffee I’d feel better—or at least warmer. While I made a pot, Sylvester kept me company, rubbing along my legs and purring, but he couldn’t make me smile, even when he stood up leaning on the counter begging for treats.
I knew from when mom died this numbness would eventually fade away, and I hoped like hell it didn’t take as long this time. “I hardly knew him, so why does it hurt so much?”
“Maybe, because the bastard turned on you.”
Startled I knocked my mug off the counter and it smashed on the floor. “Damn, I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s okay, you were in another world. I’m guessing the one where Chaos lives?”
I nodded and bent down to pick up the broken pieces, pushing Sylvester away from the sharp ceramic remains of my coffee cup. Looking at it on the floor it kind of reminded me of my heart, smashed to pieces. Nope not going there, he’s not worth it.
“Yeah, I guess I was.” Tossing the pieces into the trash, I grabbed another mug and poured a cup of coffee. Holding the hot cup took the edge off the chill I’d been feeling since getting out of bed. “Do you want a cup?”
“No thanks. I plan on sleeping tonight at some point.”
“Funny. I think I’m done.”
“Want to talk about it now?”
Did I want to? No definitely not. Would I? Yeah, she was my bestie, of course I’d tell her. Besides, she wouldn’t stop bugging me until I told her everything. Grabbing the mug I went into the living room. The apartment was mostly open—my mother had it converted from her art studio before I was born and it was the only home I’d ever known. I loved the openness usually, butright now it was too big, I wanted small, enclosed, dark, alone.
The stars twinkled in the night sky as I stood sipping the coffee and looking out onto the city that never slept. Everything was normal…everything but me. Ugh. I sounded like a bad romance novel. I needed to snap out of it. So I decided I’d tell Michelle everything then it’d be done. I’d fold it up into a little box, lock it away, and move on with the life I should have already been living. Yup, it sounded like a great idea to me.
As usual we sat at opposite ends of the couch leaning against the arms with our knees drawn up against our chins. We’d shared just about everything on that couch for almost five years, and now there would be another night of tears, ice cream, and chick flicks.
“That was Eric on the phone. He found out some more shit and called to tell me. He also let Chaos know you were here. The fucktard was worried about you.”
“Ooh yeah, I bet he was.” I took a deep breath. I could do this without crying. No…I WILL do this without crying. “What did he tell you so I don’t have to repeat this shit?”
“Joe and Terrance found Candy and Sweets. After they got back they had a long talk with Chaos, and Joe was there too.”
Shit, she had a strange look on her face, sort of like she’d bitten into a jalapeño and burned the shit out of her mouth. “What? It can’t make me feel any worse than I already do.”
“Don’t be so sure, I want to beat the little bitch myself now. I would have before too...”
I put the mug on the table. “Just tell me, I don’t have anything to throw now.”
“The bitch tweeted and it went viral.”
My chest got tight, and my head started pounding. “She tweeted what?” I looked down to see my hands clenched so tightly my fingernails were digging in to my palms. If she’d been there I would have knocked her teeth out, and I’m not a violent person—at least not since the fourth grade. What’s wrong with people?
“A pic of herself after the fight saying you did it.”
“Fuckin' bitch. I did it? She started it, but I did get to rip out some of her hair and got a few good slaps in.”
“Good.”
