hate white sheets. Blood stains too easily.
I dart my eyes to the closed white door, hear something from beyond it. People talking. Frying bacon.
It takes me a second, then my pulse picks up speed as I see my black backpack by the door, skeleton bandana laid over it.
Fuck.
Julie. Finn. Ophelia.
They’re all in this goddamn house.
I remember the drive from Alexandria, North Carolina to Acid City, Virginia. Ophelia leaned across the console of the M5 and…
Fuckkkk.
I bury my head in my hands, elbows on my knees as I realize I’m in boxer briefs, no shirt on.
I let Ophelia suck my dick.
I let her suck my fucking dick.
I think about last night. Julie greeted me warmly. O, not so much. Finn was sleeping. Ophelia brushed her teeth, probably getting the taste of my cum out of her mouth. Sid loved that shit. She wouldn’t have brushed her goddamn teeth.
I asked Julie about the kitten’s head.
She’d thrown it in the garbage out back.
Said the alarm from one window had gone off the other night. She seemed spooked, but also pissed O was in her house. Gave me no other good information. Isn’t Finley, because he’s stayed far the fuck away, in another state, wanting nothing to do with his fucking son.
Julie had offered me a drink.
The three of us had too much.
Ophelia wanted to sleep in this room, but there’re four bedrooms in this airy house, and I stumbled up to bed by myself, letting the girls deal with their shit.
I pick my head up, glance at the nightstand.
There’s a line there, a snipped off straw, what I prepared in the night.
My phone is face down beside it, and I take a breath, run my hand over my nose again, taste blood in the back of my throat. Blood and whiskey and the bitter taste of coke, like crushed up aspirin.
I swing my legs, see my boxers riding up and giving me a view of the Unsaint’s tattoo on my thigh, taking up nearly the entire fucking thing.
So many scars.
But I know Sid’s.
I run my finger over it, deeper than the rest. Longer, too.
My chest clenches, my throat tightening.
She won’t forgive me for that. Ophelia. She won’t fucking forgive me, even though I’m here because of her.
I need to know if I can find anything here. Someone is after us. Her.
And he isn’t watching her like he should, if those photos are any indication.
He’s giving her the fucking freedom she wants.
I slam my fist on the dresser, snatch up the straw, rail the fucking line and drop the straw, closing my eyes, swallowing down the bitter taste of coke as my pulse picks up speed.
There’s a soft knock on the door and I flinch.
Clearing my throat, I manage to call out, “Yeah?”
“Morning,” Julie says, her voice quiet. “Breakfast is ready, if you’re hungry.”
I’m fucking not. “Thanks,” I call out. “I’ll be down soon.”
I hear a baby cooing, making some kind of blubbering sound, and that tightness in my chest knots heavier.
“Okay. No rush,” Julie offers, then I hear her walk away, the creak of the stairs as she heads down.
She’s a lot more mellow than she used to be, and I can’t help but wonder if that’s because she thinks this visit may be something more than it is.
I didn’t tell her about Sid.
About the marriage.
About any of it.
Because it’s not her fucking business. The more people mad at my wife, the more I worry. I just let it go. Kept another secret for her.
It didn’t matter.
It does now, I guess.
Swearing under my breath, I run my hand through my hair, then drop it to my knee, palm up.
That fucking X.
Sid’s X.
My wife’s fucking brand.
I stand, swearing again, then walk to my bag, tie the bandana around my throat and pull out my clothes and get dressed, wondering what the fuck I’m supposed to find here when Julie doesn’t know shit.
I should’ve stayed at the other house last night. Shouldn’t have stayed in this one, with both of these girls I’ve fucked here, but it doesn’t matter.
O and I will be on the road later today, headed out.
I’ll call Mav, see if there’s anything specific he wants me to look into. Otherwise, I need to get back to North Carolina.
Even if she doesn’t want me right now, I have to be closer to my wife, and I know the fucking little compound he’s keeping her at.
When I’m brushing my teeth in the guest bathroom, I glance at my reflection, right above my dark