step out into the hall, I hear a knock at the door. Gritting my teeth, I stop at the front door. I swear to god if it’s Kennedy, she is going to wish she didn’t show back up here.
My patience to deal with her is non-existent at this point, and though I don’t want to physically hurt her, I’m toeing the line between right and wrong at this point. Unlocking the deadbolt, I tug the door open, a barrage of words cling to the roof of my mouth when I find it isn’t Kennedy at all, but Talon.
“Hey, fuckface, got out of there fast enough,” he says, shoving into my apartment. Fucker wants to get punched in the face, doesn’t he?
“What the fuck do you want?” I whirl around to face him, slamming the front door since I already know he isn’t going to be leaving right away. I’m not really in the mood for company tonight. I’d rather drink myself to death at this point.
“Is that any way to greet the person who comes with twenty-five thousand dollars in his pocket for you?”
My face deadpans. “Just give me the money, jackass. I’m not in the mood for company tonight.”
Talon wiggles his eyebrows at me. “Oh, really? Is that why you ran out of the pit and to that chick? I saw her walking down the street on the way over here. Did you fuck her?” I don’t say anything, mainly because there isn’t anything to say. I don’t have to tell him who I fuck and don’t fuck. Does he think he’s my dad or something? Agitated, I roll my shoulders. It feels like I’m being interrogated.
“I’m going to take your silence as a yes since you aren’t denying it.” He smirks. “Did you at least make it hurt? She deserves some pain after the story you told me. Hell, you should’ve kept her here, maybe I could’ve fucked her too. Made sure she got the point.”
I don’t understand my reaction to what he’s said, but I pounce, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. “Don’t fucking touch her! She’s mine. Do you hear me? Don’t touch her. Don’t look at her. Nothing.”
“Jesus, dude.” Talon tries to push me off, but my grip on him is too tight. I’m tempted to rearrange his face, but I hold back. I’ve hurt enough people tonight. “I heard you loud and clear. Don’t touch the blonde. I got it.”
I release him with a shove, and he stumbles back. The shock over my outburst is written all over his face, and I don’t want to see it. I’m ashamed to be feeling this way. I hate Kennedy, fucking hate her so much, it’s all I can feel sometimes, but every once in a while there is something else, something deeper. It comes out of nowhere and makes me think twice about what I’m doing to her.
“You okay, man? You’re acting weird,” Talon says, pushing me to my limits. His voice is a saw cutting through me. I want to flatten him.
“I’m fine. Now get the fuck out of here before I beat the fuck out of you. I want to be alone,” I yell at him, pointing to the door. He backpedals, his entire face ashen now. I can’t imagine how I look at this point. Like a beast that’s ready to explode.
Slamming down onto the couch, I take my head into my hands and listen for the door to close. When it slams shut, I shove up from the couch. Her fucking scent is all around me. It’s in my head, under my skin. I hate her. I fucking hate her. There is no room for anything else inside of me. Walking into the kitchen, I grab the bottle of bourbon off the top of the fridge, twist the cap off, and bring it to my lips.
My muscles quake as I tip the bottle back and let the liquor pool inside my mouth before swallowing it down. It burns a path of fire deep into my belly, warming the coldness inside my chest. Tears prick my eyes as I sag to the floor and continue drinking.
“Why the fuck did you do this to me, Jillian?” I scream into the empty space.
It’s not her fault she died. It’s not her fault that she got into the car that night. It’s mine. It’s Kennedy’s but never hers. She didn’t deserve to die. I drink some more, letting the brown liquid cloud my mind,