Faster We Burn - By Chelsea M. Cameron Page 0,97

me, I wasn’t going to just leave her outside. I’d get her inside, hopefully a little sober and then take her home. She’d have to leave her goddamn car here and come back to get it, but at least she’d get home safe.

After a little work, with her resisting the whole time, I got her to the couch and she flopped down.

“Fuck you,” she said into the pillow. I moved her head so she wouldn’t suffocate. This could go one of two ways. I could get angry drunk Ric, or emotional drunk Ric. I wasn’t sure which one was worse at this point. Angry Ric liked to break things, but Emotional Ric liked to tell me really personal things about her past that I definitely didn’t want to know. She also had a habit of throwing herself at people, not that I hadn’t dealt with that already.

“You already did, babe,” I said, going to the kitchen to get her a glass of water. She also had makeup smeared all over her face, like she’d been having some heavy make-out sessions.

“Where’ve you been, Ric?”

“None of your business, asshole.” I also wet a paper towel so she could clean up a little. “I loved you and you fucked me over.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m regretting it more than you know.” I sat down next to her and held the glass out. “Drink.”

She pushed the glass away. Oh, this was going to be so much fun.

“Come on, Ric. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

She squinted her eyes at me, but took the glass, slopping it all over herself.

“Look, I know you’re pissed at me, and feel free to take it out on me, but leave Katie out of it. She didn’t do anything to you, so just lay off.”

“Nice try, Stryk,” she said, nearly dropping the glass again. “But that bitch has it coming.” Ric pushed me and I snapped. I grabbed both of her arms, hard enough to bruise.

“I swear to God, Ric, if you hurt her, I will make you wish you were never born. You remember what I used to be like, right? Well if you mess with Katie, I’ll make that guy look like a fucking boy scout. Got it?” She struggled, trying to get away, but I wanted to make sure she had the message.

She growled and tried to lunge and bite me, but I was ready for her. She knew my patterns, but I knew hers, too.

“Don’t even try it, bitch.”

I shoved her away from me and stormed out. I needed a smoke.

***

When I came back, Ric was passed out. Well, at least she wasn’t talking. Bad news was that I’d have to let her sleep it off. She lived in a seriously sleazy part of town, and I wasn’t going to dump her back at her place in this bad of shape. It was a wonder nothing had happened to her yet.

I covered her up and made sure she wouldn’t suffocate on the pillows. I also left a bucket, just in case, and went to my room, taking my banjo. I had different instruments for different moods and this felt like a banjo time.

I warmed up with a few chords and then played some bluegrass. When it came to music, I tended to like things that were a little offbeat, or at least had some interesting and complicated instrumentation. Trish used to say that bluegrass was for losers, but that was because she couldn’t play an instrument if her life depended on it. I’d tried to teach her a ton of times, but she just didn’t grasp the concept. She had a great voice, though, but she wouldn’t sing if anyone ever asked her. She’d only do it if she felt like it, which was usually only when she was alone. My theory was that she was afraid she sucked and she enjoyed singing so much that it would ruin it for her forever. And of course, me telling her she didn’t suck had no impact.

I missed Katie.

Pulling out my phone, I scrolled through the pictures I’d taken of her. Now, if I could only get those blown up, I could wallpaper my room with them.

She’d kill me, but at least I’d get to have her around me.

I thought about calling just to check in on her, but I couldn’t be that guy. Reading between the lines, Zack had been a possessive and controlling, always calling and checking on her and wanting to know where

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