His clipped demand has me swallowing hard because, honestly,I don’t know who I can trust anymore.
And that fucking hurts.
I grab the hundred-dollar bill sitting on top of the black glass table and snort the last two lines Cameryn had just finished cutting. We are at The Barbed Cherry, and the doors are locked and bolted.I made sure three times that no one would be able to get in the place.
I run the back of my hand across my nose and fall back into the suede red couch with a deep, shaky exhale. Both Cam and I are curled beneath a black fluffy blanket, our blood laced with coke to numb the pain of what just happened.
I flick my gaze to Cameryn, who is sitting at the opposite end of the couch with her phone in her hand.
“Harlen’s calling me,” she states, holding the screen up toward me before throwing it down onto the table with an echoed thud. She lets it ring out.
I cough, a weak attempt at clearing the lump in my throat. “Do you think he has something to do with it?” I ask, noticing how the tone of my voice has been stripped bare,leftempty.
She inhales, then whispers reluctantly, “No.”
I swallow painfully again, and she continues to talk, “But you have to talk to him, you have to tell him. He needs to know.”
“How are you so sure?” I question her. “I mean, for real, how?”
“Fuck me.” She throws the blanket off her and leans over at the waist toward the table, cutting herself another line before snorting it quickly. She falls back into her dip at the couch and makes a strained sound in her throat before locking her deep blue gaze on mine.
“Look, I don’t know for certain, B. But I’d like to think not. He’s always been a good guy. But you’re going to have to ask him, and when you do, I can be there.”
A deep chill crawls across the back of my neck, the hairs standing on end. “I’m mad, Cam. Is that wrong?”
She’s already shaking her head. “No, you have a right to feel however the fuck you want to feel. You’re human.”
“I just–” I start to say, when there is a loud bang at the front of the club, followed byhisvoice.
“Cherry!” Harlen yells, loud and desperate.
Silence falls upon us, my eyes locked on Cam’s, never wavering.
Another bang rattles with the distant sound of the first.
“Cherry, fuck, please. Talk to me, goddamnit.”
I sit up farther in my seat, my awareness heightened, tingling at my scalp.
“What are you going to do?” Cam asks.
I shove the blanket off me and stand to my bare feet. The weight of my body is heavy, and I feel like I’m about to collapse, only I’m being pulled in his direction. I can’t seem to control my feet as they move toward the door.
My hand trembles when it clasps around the chrome deadbolt, and the usual action is normally so easy, but with fear eating its way through my bones, it takes me a couple of beats longer than normal to get it unlocked.
I click it open and step back, turning around and walking away. The door meets the wall with a crash, though I keep walking, and before I can take another breath, Harlen’s hand is around my wrist, spinning me and pulling me right into him.
My chest heaves with his, the blood in my veins simmering when our eyes lock. I bite into my bottom lip, and with every bit of strength I can muster, I wrench my arm out of his grip.
A moment passes between us as I stare into his vortex of pain. The weight on my chest only feels heavier when I tilt my chin up at him and say right in his face, “Don’t fucking touch me.”
Bewilderment, not even anger, takes over his face.
“What the fuck?” he rasps, shoving his hands back through his curls and tilting his head toward the striped ceiling, letting out a deep sigh.
I turn back around and attempt to create space between us.
“What the fuck is going on, Cherry?” he asks, but I don’t reply.
