Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,280

like that. I didn’t know when he led me up here. How did I not know? My head shakes and I feel so stupid, so foolish. So guilty.

I part my lips to tell him, the alcohol making my head feel so heavy. But he kisses me instead, and then pulls back to take his shirt off. No, I just need to tell him no. He’ll listen. He’s not trying to take advantage of me. It’s my fault. “I thought you just wanted to mess around a little.” My words come out muffled.

“What, baby?” he asks as he pushes my legs apart wider. I try to pull them closed, but his hips butt against mine. I was just looking to have a little fun.

His hands shove my skirt up and my arms are too heavy to push him away.

I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I was reckless. It was my fault. I don’t know if he heard me whispering no. It makes me feel a little better to think he didn’t, and I don’t know if that’s more fucked up than the alternative.

My breathing is ragged as I shove the memory out of my mind and let go of the Brillo pad. There are red marks on my palm from where the pad has dug into my soft flesh, but I hardly notice it, a chill snaking down my spine. I stopped going to parties, but the reliance on drugs and alcohol didn’t end. And one mistake led to another that I’ll never forgive myself for. Even now, I still ache in my lower abdomen at the memory of waking up on a bloody mattress months later, my nightgown soaked with dark red blood. I didn’t know I'd been pregnant until I had miscarried. More mistakes. More blame. More guilt.

That was enough to send me spiraling down into darkness; I just wanted to end it all. I had a bottle in my hand as my legs hung over the bridge. I’d drink the pain away and fall in. I was so done with making mistakes. But Danny saw me. He saved me.

And now… he’s discarding me like none of that meant anything.

“Are you okay, dear?” a familiar voice asks, breaking me out of my dark trance. I whip my head around to see Clara, the head cook of the shelter, staring at me with concern. She’s a large woman in her early fifties, with greying hair that’s always arranged up high on her head in a loose bun. Her outfit, an oversized blue dress with a white apron, only makes her appear more matronly. She has a large oval-shaped face, lined with gentle wrinkles, and her hair contains striking streaks of grey that give her a distinguished look. I flash her a modest smile I hope she thinks is real. I try my best to keep my troubles hidden whenever I’m here, or anywhere really. I don’t like to spread negativity. Give your pain to me. Only me. Danny’s words from the night he first showed me the cane come back to me. I turn my back to her and grab the dish towel, drying my hands before turning back to face her. “I’m fine. Why, what’s up?”

Clara nods at the dishes. “You seemed a bit distracted. You sure you’re alright?”

I huff out a humorless chuckle. “Oh no, I just zoned out.”

Clara places her hands on her wide hips, giving me a knowing look. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I flash her another smile, this one easier. “I’m positive.”

For a moment, Clara looks uncertain as if she wants to press the issue, but then says, “Okay, I’m here for you if you ever need someone to talk to, okay honey?”

Warmth spreads through my chest and it’s hard not to let the emotions I'm feeling play across my face. It touches me that Clara cares at all about what I might be going through. But then again, she wouldn’t be working at a pantry that fed the homeless if she didn’t possess so much empathy. There are so many people here who need help. And not because they were careless and reckless and hurting the people around them. They didn’t choose it.

“Okay,” I tell her with gratitude, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Make sure that you do.” Clara gives me a heartfelt smile before going off back to her chores.

I spend the next half hour finishing cleaning up the last of the dishes and then head out behind the building with