“Uh-oh…” Emmie grimaces. “We’re in trouble now. I know that look in your eyes.”
I grin. Yep, she knows me all too well.
I came here to break Slate Declan, and that’s exactly what I plan to do. Even if it means that I have to fix him before I can do it.
CHAPTER FIVE
I press the pad of my hand to my head, trying to get the pounding to stop. My eyes haven’t opened yet, but I know when they do that banging in my brain is going to get worse. I crack them open, instantly assaulted by AC/DC’s Thunderstruck. I slam my lids back down. Zeke put the rock band’s poster up on the ceiling tiles. It’s his introductory song before he fights. I groan. How in the hell did I wind up in the den?
After the fight, I did those few bumps of coke Gathie had given me, and then went out and found some hydros. When I got home and started coming down from the high, I popped a couple of sleeping pills. At least this time I didn’t wake up in the bathtub, getting an ice-cold shower courtesy of my brothers ‘cause they thought that I’d OD’d again.
I roll over on the couch, cross my arms over my chest, and tuck my fists into my sides. The fucking thing is uncomfortable. I lift my lids, and through the hazy blur, I focus in on lush pink lips and cat-like eyes. Man, that all-American drug brings her to me every time. Still, I’ll never tire of her visits. Her vision comforts me. A smile slowly slips over my lips. “Hey monkey,” I groggily say to the beautiful hallucination sitting in the chair across from me.
“Hi, Superman,” the figment sweetly responds.
Loving the sound of her voice, my smile grows. “Oh, I’ll be your Superman, babe,” I say, nuzzling against the pillow as I let my heavy lids drop back down over my eyes.
I’m not sure for how long I fall back to sleep—could’ve been five minutes or five hours—but when I wake again, I’m still on the hard couch. More alert, my body takes note of the worn cushions and jabbing springs. I rub my face against the rough throw pillow. Blinking a couple of times, my eyes open. “Oh, come on,” I groan. “You’re still here?”
“Yep.” The gorgeous illusion grins. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I swing my legs around and sit up. I scrub my face, trying to snap out of it, but when I look back up, Rayna’s still here. “You never do.” I laugh at myself. I’ve lost it. I’m now having a conversation with my hallucinations.
She leans forward, bringing her beauty closer to my ugly. “What does that mean?”
I glare at her. “You know what it means.”
“No, I don’t,” she says, eyes narrowing.
“Go away, Rayna. I don’t need you messing with my shit right now.”
“I told you, I’m not leaving,” she says in an all-too-familiar tone.
I stand up, walk over to her, place my hands on the chair arms, and lean down. She looks different, older. That’s right. I saw her last night at JZS and that’s why I imagine her like this. Hell. I knew she was in town and that I’d eventually run into her. But when I saw her drop that damn tear, no doubt pitying me like all the others, it pissed me off. Rather, she saw me as the monster that I really am. That sordid part of me that I kept hidden from her for all those years we were together.
Her eyes stay in line with mine, our faces get closer, and I watch the lump slide down her throat when she swallows. Damn. It seems so real. I grip the chair arms. “Get. Out. Of. My. Head.”
She shifts forward; our mouths barely touch, and I swear, I feel her breath on my lips when she says, “I’m not in your head.”
I inhale her. Shit! I even imagine her scent. “Yeah, you are,” I say, now arguing with my hallucinations.
“No. I’m. Not.”
I lift my hand from the chair arm. It’s time to end this shit. I reach for her nape to pull her mouth to mine. I feel her soft lips sink into me. “Fuck!” I jump back, nearly falling on my ass. I swipe my fingers across my mouth and look down at her. “You’re fucking real?”
“Yes, I am.” She nods as the haze around her dissolves, leaving a very real Rayna sitting in the chair before me.
My entire body goes numb. I glance down at my exposed scars then anxiously look around the room until I spot a hoodie. I walk over. With shaky hands, I grab it and pull it on. I yank the hood up over my head and take a deep breath, trying to overcome the fucked-up situation I’ve awoken to. What is she doing here, in my home, in the fucking den? How long has she been sitting there, watching me? How long did she have full access to my revolting body? Oh, man. I think that I’m gonna be sick.