With a deep breath, I leave the bathroom, entering my bedroom in the base. That’s the safest place for me to be, and I took Hudson and Noelle’s room, so no one else is allowed inside easily.
A small scream hitches in my throat when I spot a figuresitting on the bed. They reach for the lamp on the bedside table, and I can’t tell if I’m relieved or pissed to see Kaya sitting on the bed, yet again acting like she owns the place.
“Have you ever heard of knocking?”
She shrugs. “Stop acting like a kid. You called me here. Mind you, I was in my castle back in Russia, enjoying the snow on the mountains.”
“Wait, hold on, you live in a castle?”
“Obviously,’’ she drawls out. “What else would be suitable for me?”
“A psych ward.”
“One more word and I’m leaving.”
“Wait, no,” I step forward.
Kaya stands up, walking towards me. She stops two feet away from me, a frown on her expression. Her eyes skim through my face thoroughly, brows narrowing. I blink a couple of times, and that’s enough for her to get in my personal bubble.
“What are you—”
“Shush,” she mutters, her nose almost touching mine. Her hand comes to cup my jaw, then grips it and yanks me forward. Her eyes are glued to my nose, and panic consumes me. Fucking hell, she noticed.
“What did you take?”
“What do you mean?” I feign ignorance, and she drops my jaw, stepping back. “I didn’t take anything.”
“These idiots here might not notice, but don’t put me in the same category as these fools, Blair,” she scoffs, then walks past me and enters the bathroom. I don’t even get the chance to stop her before she emerges back from the bathroom, holding the small packet of drugs in her hand, showing it to me.
“That’s—”
She cuts me off with a single lift of her finger, my mouth clamping shut. Kaya sits on the bed, opens it, then dips her pinkyfinger inside. She licks the white powder off, looking out the window, kissing her teeth.
“Thank fuck.”
“What?” The confusion in my voice is evident.
Kaya simply rolls her eyes. “It’s pure heroin.”
“And that’s good?”
She blinks, clearly annoyed. “Taking any drugs is bad, Blair. But if you’re taking them, it’s better to take high-quality ones, because most of the heroin that’s easily accessible on the streets has a mix of other substances that makes them far more dangerous.”
“Oh.’’
“How long have you been taking this?’’
Her question leaves no room for a single lie. If I try to give her a bullshit story, she’ll force the truth out of me, one way or the other, and I’m not sure her cage is the one I’d ever want to rattle.
“Two weeks.”
“How much?”
“A line or two a day.”
She sighs, eyes closing. She drops the bag to the floor, pinching the bridge of her nose. She’s silent for what seems to be an eternity. When her eyes open, it’s as if someone let in the air from the North Pole. Everything feels icy cold, her dull, dead eyes staring right back at me.
“Aren’t you and Arlo quite the couple? One’s a raging alcoholic, the other one is a heroin addict.”
