Real(80)

My eyes widen in horror, and my determination to see my sister falters woefully at the thought of licking any part of this man. Omigod, I want to run so bad from here, my veins already feel dilated as the blood pumps into my muscles, priming me to flee. Flee to the car, back to my Remy.Riley grabs me, his face a mask of concern.



“Brooke,” he says in warning, and that snaps me back to what I’m here for and I quickly squirm free, once again facing Scorpion.

How can I leave? How will I otherwise get to talk to Nora about this shit she’s in? Just the thought of her in this Human Worm’s grasp disgusts me. How can I see her with this type of pervert and not do something to help her? Swallowing back the painful dryness in my throat, I tip my face back with false bravado, desperate to do anything except lick that grossness on that man’s disgusting cheek. “I’ll kiss it, you have my word.”Fear Factor.

You can do this for Nora.

If you could do the hundred meters in 10.52 seconds, then you can kiss this sucker’s stupid skin mascot!

Evil lurks in his eyes as he studies me thoughtfully, then speaks mockingly down at me. “If you’re not going to lick it, then you’ll have to at least hold it for five seconds, hmm? Remy’s bitch? Go on now. Kiss the scorpion.” He taps the scorpion, and my stomach seizes spasmodically as I struggle very hard to keep my expression blank and show the Human Insect how unconcerned I am with his revolting request.

Drawing a deep breath, I forbid my knees to quiver as I go up on tiptoes, pucker my lips, and squeeze my eyes shut, loathing and rage seizing my insides as my lips hit his dry painted skin. Holding the contact, I feel poisoned inside as I make it last five seconds, my heart black inside me. Hurting and coiling in complete and utter embarrassment. My legs waver as another second passes, and my systems feel paralyzed in this purgatory, where every ounce in my body is repelled by this embodiment of Rotten and only sheer willpower holds me up on my toes.

These are the longest five seconds of my life. Where I am humiliated beyond humiliated, angry beyond explanation, and feel as low as when I saw the video of my broken self on YouTube.



“All right then.” With a smile nothing short of disgustingly wide when I drop back down, surprised there is even ground under my feet, he extends his thick arm out to Nora, and I’m reeling with self-loathing as I hold my spine straight and head for Nora, resisting the urge to go into the kitchens and scrub my mouth raw. It feels dirty and cheap. No, not it. I. I feel dirty and cheap, and the thought of kissing my beautiful Remy with this same mouth makes my eyes tear up and my throat constrict.

I already feel drained by the time I reach my sister’s table. Around us, there are empty tables with upside down chairs littered throughout, except for our small table, which is set with one electric tea light at the center and chopsticks for four.

“Nora.” My voice is deceptively soft, but inside I’m a mass of conflictive emotions, even resentment toward my sister for sitting here, watching me have to kiss her filthy boyfriend’s tattoo. But seeing the lifeless expression on her face, I just know the girl across the table from me, willowy and frail, pale and not really happy, isn’t really my sister.

Reaching for her hand on the table, I’m saddened when she doesn’t let me hold it and instead shoves it under the table with a little sniffle. We stare at each other for a moment in silence, and it strikes me that the sight of that black scorpion almost crawling into my sister’s eye is the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen in my life.

“You shouldn’t be here, Brooke,” she says, her eyes on the men and Riley and Melanie, who wait in stunned silence by the door. When our eyes meet again, I’m shocked by the animosity in her gaze, openly lashing at me.A sudden anger seizes me too, and I narrow my eyes. “Mom wants to know if you liked the Australian crocodiles, Nora. She loved the postcard you sent and can’t wait to see where else you’re heading to. So? How were the crocodiles, sister?”



There’s a world of bitterness in her voice when she answers. “Obviously I wouldn’t know.” She wipes the back of her hand across her nose and looks away, scowling at the mention of Mom.

“Nora…” Lowering my voice, I signal at the empty Japanese restaurant containing the Scorpion and the three goons, who watch us from the sushi bar. “Is this honestly what you want for yourself? You have your whole life ahead of you.”“And I want to live it my own way, Brooke.”



There’s a bunch of defensiveness in her tone, so I try to keep from sounding aggressive. “But why here, Nora? Why? Mom and Dad would be heartbroken if they knew the things you’ve gotten yourself involved in.”