GREED(109)

At that most fortunate of moments, we heard Ali calling out Brent’s name in the hall outside the door and he tensed, his eyes going wide. I could only inwardly smile at what was to come. Before he’d had a chance to react to her calling to him, she’d walked into the room.

“Brent?” She asked him. She saw our position and the recognition I’d seen in all the others before her was so obviously written all over Ali. She wasn’t going to fight it. “I’m sorry,” she said politely, like I wasn’t in a compromising position on the floor with her boyfriend. She’s so pathetic, I thought. She closed the door. We heard her pounding the floor to the stairs, running toward Sav no doubt. Sav would have to pretend she had no idea.

He threw himself to his feet, abandoning me half-hazardly on the carpet and immediately began chasing her. Well, that’s a first, I thought to myself. Usually they went right back to business but I suppose we hadn’t gotten far enough. Yeah, that’s why he left you lying here, half-undressed, chasing after his girlfriend, Soph.

I balked at my own idiocy and stood up.

I walked to Sav’s parents’ bathroom and leaned over her mother’s side of the double sinks. I fixed my bristled hair and ran my nail along the line of my bottom lip, fixing any gloss smudges. I tucked my form fitting black and white v-striped silk button up back into my pencil skirt and stared at myself.

A single tear ran down my cheek and I grimaced. Not now, I thought. I was my own worst enemy. That was my secret weakness. Rejection. Rejection of any kind, in fact. I hated it more than anything.

“You’re too beautiful to be rejected,” I told the reflection in front of me, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

I ran the tap and splashed a little water on my face before removing the small bag of coke I’d hidden in my strapless. I fumbled with the little plastic envelope, spilling it onto the marble counter and cursed at the mess I’d made. I scrambled for something to line it with, finally stumbling upon her father’s medicine cabinet. I removed the blade from her father’s old fashioned razor and made my lines. I remembered her mom kept small stacks of stationery paper in her desk in the bedroom and I went straight for that, rolling the paper into a small roll.

The tears wouldn’t stop and I knew I wouldn’t be able to snort with a snotty nose. I went to her parents’ toilet and tugged at a few squares of toilet paper, blew my nose then flushed it down. I swiped at the tears on my cheeks and bent over my lines just about the time a policeman came rushing in, catching me right before the act for the second time that night.





“What are you doing? Put your hands on your head,” I heard a man’s deep voice say.

I languidly stood from my unfinished lines and stared into the mirror. Sharing its reflection with me was a young, rather hot cop. Shit. I dropped the rolled up stationary that smelled like old-lady lavender potpourri and lazily put my hands over my head.

“Turn around,” he said, fingering the cuffs on his belt.

I turned around and faced him, his eyes widened at the full sight of me. He stumbled a little, a hitch in his step, as he progressed my way. He brought my right hand down slowly, then my left and swallowed just as Brent had earlier. Gotcha’.

“What’s your name?” I whispered, his face mere inches from mine. Beats Antique’s Dope Crunk rang loudly from downstairs. No wonder I hadn’t heard them come in.

“That’s none of your concern,” he said but the hesitation in his voice told me he thought he’d like it to be.

“I’m Sophie,” I told him as he clicked the first ring around my wrist.

He kept narrowing his eyes at me but they would drop to my breasts then back up.

“N-nice to meet you, Sophie.”

“Nice to meet you, too...,” I drug out, waiting for his name.

“What are you doing?” He asked me, throwing glances over his shoulder, no doubt worried if more officers would be joining us.

“Nothing. Cross my heart,” I appraised, taking my free hand from his and crossing my heart, which just so happened to be at the crest of my cleavage. His gaze flitted down and he started breathing harder.

“Casey,” he told me.

“Casey,” I said breathily, testing out his name. He fought a drowsy smile, apparently liking the way I said it and I smiled.

“L-let me have your hand,” he said.

I gave him my unconstrained hand without a fuss. He took it and restrained it with the other.

“All tied up now, Casey,” I whispered, raising my fisted hands just as he closed his eyes, almost drifting forward a bit.

“Come with me,” he said, pulling me from the counter. His eyes glanced down at my lines and he shook his head. “What makes you do that shit?”