Page 32 of Two Sides of Sin

A sharp, dry laugh escaped me before I could stop it. The timing was almost cruel.

“You okay?” Cindy asked, leaning against the prep table, her eyes shifting from Julian back to me. “Seriously, he looks like he’s about to start a cult or a riot. Maybe both.”

I shook my head, my eyes still locked on his dark silhouette through the window as the radio hammered home the point: “You’re poison, running through my veins… You’re poison, I don’t wanna break these chains.”

“I’m fine,” I said, grabbing a tray and feeling the phantom burn of those lyrics. “The radio is just playing my life story. He’s poison, Cindy. I’m just waiting for the antidote to kick in.” I laughed dryly. “No, it’s fine, really… It’s just… complicated. He’s an old family friend. Honestly, I’d rather not go there right now.”

“Ah, I get it,” Cheryl said, leaning against the heat lamp. “An ex. That totally makes sense! Even more reason for you to come out with us again tonight. You need to wash that man right out of your hair.”

I tried to protest, leaning my head against the cool metal of the industrial fridge. The double shifts were catching up to me, but the thought of going home and staring at the ceiling, wondering where Julian was, felt even more exhausting. “Guys, I’m so tired. I think I’m actually starting to malfunction.”

But they wouldn’t take no for an answer. They were my connection to the “normal” world, and they weren’t letting go.

“We’re meeting up with a bunch of friends in the woods,” Cindy said, her eyes sparking with excitement. “There’s this spot we’ve been going to for years to have parties. A bonfire, some music, maybe a little moonlight. Billy will probably be there, too. It’s going to be so much fun, June, and you need exactly that! Please don’t make me beg. It’s embarrassing, but I will!.”

I looked at their hopeful faces, then back through the window at Julian. He was watching the door where Billy had just exited with a silent, possessive angst. The thought of being somewhere he couldn’t follow—somewhere deep in the woods where I could just be a girl at a party, drinking a beer and laughing at nothing—was too tempting to pass up.

“Fine,” I said, crossing my arms with a mock scowl. “But only for a few hours. If I don’t get some sleep tonight, I might actually collapse into a pancake tomorrow morning.”

Cheryl squealed with excitement and pulled me into a quick hug, the scent of her hairspray and cheap perfume comforting. “Yes! We’ll get ready at my place, okay? It’s closer to the party. I’ll drive us after work.”

She flashed me a dimpled smile and headed back out to the floor. I took a deep breath, smoothing my apron and tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

As I walked back out to deliver a tray of burgers, I didn’t even look at Julian’s booth. But I could feel his eyes burning into me, heavy with a silent, desperate question I had no intention of answering. He thought he was the only one who could play games. He was about to find out how wrong he was.

Chapter 25

June

The air in Cheryl’s bedroom was thick enough to choke on, artificial mist of hairspray that felt like it was physically holding me down. I felt like a porcelain doll being prepped for a pageant I’d never signed up for. Cheryl and Cindy were a whirlwind of frantic movement around me, their hands a blur of Smokey palettes and blunt liners. They were trying to paint over the cracks in my soul, but I knew the foundation was still crumbling.

“Is this really practical for a party in the woods?” I protested, my voice sounding thin and foreign even to my own ears. I tugged at the hem of a skirt that felt less like clothing and more like a dare.

The reflection staring back at me in the full length mirror was a stranger. My hair was tousled in a way that looked effortless but had taken Cindy twenty minutes of calculated tugging to perfect. My eyes were rimmed in charcoal, making them look wide and haunting. Gone was the girl who spent her nights whispering to the shadows of a floral-walled bedroom, in her place stood someone ready to burn the world down just to feel the heat.

“Practical is for hiking, June. This is for fun,” Cheryl said, dabbing a final coat of gloss on my lips.

I stared at that girl in the glass. I looked grown up. I looked dangerous. It was a desperate, clawing attempt to shed the “girl next door” skin I’d been wearing like a cover for years.

“You look incredible,” Cindy whispered, her eyes shining with a genuine, sisterly pride. “Now, let’s go before the sun sets.”

The woods bled directly out from behind Cheryl’s house, a wall of ancient, gnarled oaks that seemed to watch us with judgmental eyes. As we walked, the damp earth clung to my heels and branches scraped against my bare legs like scratchy fingers. Every shadow looked like the hood of a dark car, every rustle of dry leaves sounded like a heavy, familiar step.

Then, I saw it, the orange flicker of a bonfire dancing through the trees. The daunting silence of the walk was shattered by a low thrum of bass that vibrated through the air.

As we broke through the final line of brush, the clearing opened up, a massive fire roared in the centre, sending sparks spiralling toward the stars. There were dozens of people, far more than I expected. My anxiety instantly flared, a cold knot of dread forming in my gut. I felt exposed in these clothes, suddenly very aware that I was away from home and surrounded by a bunch of people I didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Cheryl said, sensing the tremor in my hand as she grabbed it. “It’s just a party. I’ve got you.”

I took a deep breath, pushing the nerves down until they were just a dull hum. I wasn’t going to let the twins haunt this night, too. I straightened my shoulders, felt the weight of the revealing fabric on my skin, and walked towards the flames.

The night passed in a blur of alcohol fuelled fun. Every time a thought of Julian’s split lip, or his dark guarding eyes tried to seep into my mind, I reached for another shot. I was drowning him out, one burning liquid swallow at a time. My vision was swimming, the edges of the bonfire blurring into the dark trees like a watercolour painting left out in a storm. But I didn’t care. For the first time in six months, the screaming silence in my head was finally blissfully quiet.

The fire roared, a towering beast of orange and gold that sent sparks dancing into the night sky. I sank onto a fallen log at the edge of the clearing, the heat prickling my skin and the scent of smoke clinging to my hair. I just wanted one night. One night where I wasn’t a project or a prisoner.

Then I felt that familiar, icy crawl down my spine.

I looked over, my heart sinking into my stomach. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…