Fractured Things - Samantha Lovelock Page 0,49

I’m going to need some information. You’re acting weird, and outside of the single line I got last night, Sunday won’t answer my texts.” He looks at me expectantly. I throw off the sheets and stand, hiking up my pajama pants and grabbing a sweatshirt from my dresser. Flopping into the chair beside him, I pull my hoodie on and arch my eyebrow at him speculatively, wondering how much I should say.

“I fucked up, and now I’m just plain fucked. Can we leave it at that and not pick at it? Can we just drink and play video games and not think until it’s a decent hour for me to go back to bed?” I hold my breath, not sure what I’ll say if he forces the issue. But he’s my best friend, and I should have known he’d have my back without question, even if it is driving him nuts not knowing what the fuck is going on. He nods with a last questioning look, and we spend the next twelve hours fighting zombies and getting wasted.

Chapter Sixteen

Deciding a shower and change of clothes are necessary before we go to the cemetery, I sprint up the stairs, stripping off my sweater and leggings as soon as I round the corner into my bathroom.

I wash my hair and scrub myself with the vanilla and orchid scented body wash that has quickly become my favorite. When I reach to clean the most delicate part of me, I wince at the lingering pain from the force of my sexcapades yesterday. With the physical ache comes a wave of emotion far more painful, and I jam it back down, not willing to look at it right now.

After rinsing and drying off, I wrap a fluffy dark purple towel around myself and try to figure out what one wears to say a final goodbye to a parent they haven’t seen in years. On the way past my bed to the closet, something shiny catches my eye. Reaching down, I snatch my phone off the duvet, flipping it over to see the new case on the back—white with small black glittery stars on it—replacing the one that broke when it hit Poe’s wall.

How the fuck?

Powering it on, I count eleven new texts from Poe and two from Payne. Not even bothering to read them, my finger hits delete on every one. Resisting the urge to whip the damn thing across the room again, or at least rip the cover off and stomp on it a few times, I drop it back on the bed and finish getting ready.

Dressed, with my hair done and a bit of mascara and lip gloss on, I grab my purse and make it to the top of the stairs before gritting my teeth. Going back to retrieve my stupid phone, I shove it in the back pocket of my jeans. My aunt and Sunday are waiting for me in the kitchen, and when I walk in, I eye them both with suspicion.

“Anybody care to share how my phone made it home, and with a shiny new case no less?” As if on cue, it trills merrily from my pocket, and I pull it out to see ‘The Only Dick in The Room’ flash across the screen. Dismissing the call, I dump the phone in my purse this time and pretend not to notice the look that passes between the two females in front of me.

“Poe dropped it off last night. He came by to let me know he told you the truth about your mom and that you were with Sunday. I told him he could leave it in your room for you,” my aunt admits with a shrug. She quickly changes topics while ignoring the fact that my eyebrows nearly leave my forehead, they raise so high at the mention of him being in my room. “Do we all want to go together to the cemetery?” she asks.

Sunday realizes I’m about to blow another gasket and smoothly steps in.

“If it’s cool with you, Miss B, Stell and I will take my Rover and meet you there,” she announces while nudging me in the direction of the front door. Once we’re outside, and out of Cecily’s earshot, she tries to reason with me. “Let it go, Stell. It’s no big deal. He got you a new case and brought your phone home. That’s it.” Finally giving in with a huff, I climb into the passenger seat of her SUV, and