Dark Notes(46)

I’m already deliriously drunk on Ivory Westbrook, and I don’t know how much longer I’ll last without giving in.

I can keep the job, try to ignore this forbidden attraction, ultimately fail, and risk going to jail. Or I can quit Le Moyne, remove the temptation from my life, and f*ck me, never see her again.

My chest hurts with the agonizing truth. I know… God help me, I know what I need to do.





“This is all your fault!”

My mom’s tear-drenched screech cuts through me, but it’s the hatred in her dark eyes that makes my insides bleed.

I don’t even know what I’m being blamed for. It’s the middle of the night, and she stormed in here, flicking on the lights and waking me with her crazy wailing.

Lying on the couch where I sleep, I pull my legs closer to my body, curling smaller on my side and holding Schubert to my chest. “H-how? How is what my fault?”

She came home a month ago, crying about the boyfriend who broke up with her. She hasn’t stopped crying.

“If it wasn’t for your…your…” She paces through the parlor and trips over her own feet, yanking on the cropped strands of her hair. “Fucking selfish bullshit!”

She was pretty once, soft and curvy with contentment glinting in her eyes. But drugs and grief have withered her to bones and rancor. Dad would be as heartbroken as I am.

If I don’t get accepted into Leopold, if I never find a way out of Treme, will I end up like that? Whenever my mind flashes forward, I see myself forever chained to Lorenzo and his violent needs. How could I not turn to drugs as an escape from the torment of his touch? That future terrifies me, but it also hardens me. I’ll make it out of here, no matter the cost.

My mom stumbles through the room, clawing at her sunken face as if trying to remove imagined objects. She must be coming down from whatever she poisoned herself with, her entire body tweaking with unhappiness.

She blames me for that. Her unhappiness. I’m the reason she uses, the reason she’s poor, the reason she can’t find a job or keep a boyfriend.

I suppose, in a way, I am responsible for her misery. My chest aches to go to her, to hug and comfort her. But she doesn’t tolerate those things from me.

Multiple footsteps advance from the back of the house. I bury my nose in the comforting kitty smell of Schubert’s hair and steady my breathing.

Lorenzo and Shane push into the parlor, both dressed in jeans and t-shirts. On their way out or just coming home? I glance at my watch on the side table. 3:15 AM. I rub my eyes. I have to get ready for school in two hours.

Lorenzo gives my mom a wide berth as Shane goes to her, pulling her hands from her face.

“Mom, stop. You’re hurting yourself.” He adjusts the straps of her nightie on her bony shoulders and glares at me. “Why are you letting her do this?”

Seriously? I sit up, holding Schubert in my lap. “I’m not the one feeding her drugs.”

Lorenzo reclines on the opposite end of the couch, watching my mom with amusement. I run a trembling hand through Schubert’s fur. Lorenzo won’t try anything. He probably won’t even look at me.

My mom brings a whirlwind of drama when she comes home, but there’s safety in her presence. She and Shane don’t believe my accusations about Lorenzo hurting me, but Lorenzo is always on his best behavior when they’re in the room. I’ve evaded the rumble of his motorcycle on my walks to and from school, and he hasn’t so much as touched me since my mom came home. Even so, the impatience thrumming from him is palpable.

My mom stares up at Shane, her gaze softening for a calm moment before it slashes through the room and lands on me. “You took everything from me.”

My throat tightens and burns.

She steps toward me, scratching at her scrawny arm. “I wish you were never born.”

Tears prick my eyes. It’s just the drugs talking.

Another step, this one stronger, more sober, her eyes hard and clear. “I hate you, you selfish little bitch.”

Moisture blurs my vision, and even though she’s told me those words a thousand times, I still try. “I love you, Mom.”

She launches toward me, screaming, but Shane catches her with the hook of his arm around her waist.

“I hate you. I hate you.” She bucks in his hold, trying to get to me, her boobs bouncing and falling out of her flimsy nightie. “You ruined my life!”

“I know, Mom.” Shane drags her out of the room. “I’ll get you what you need.”

She doesn’t need the drugs he’s about to pump into her. She needs a job, a passion, and a goddamn backbone.

I curl up with Schubert and focus on the tongue and groove ceiling, trying to stop the tears from escaping. Maybe I need a backbone, too.

Her screams echo through the house and eventually ebb into sobs. “He loved her more. He took from us, Shane, and gave it all to her.”

My heart shrivels in my chest, and the tears fall, hard and fast. I wait for the couch to bounce beside me, and when it does, Schubert scrambles from my arms.

Lorenzo’s hip bumps my feet with his movements. He leans over and forces me on my back, the sinews in his neck rippling the Destroy tattoo. “You think you can avoid me forever?”

“That’s the plan.” I push against his chest as a renewed stream of tears tickle my ears.