“Jase,” he says in my ear. “Slow down. Slow down now.”
The pressure breaks, and I whine in the back of my throat, my body jerking, the spike of release so sharp it feels like dying.
Holy shit…
“Raine,” I whisper in recognition, and gratitude, and goddamn relief, and then I wake up, gasping for breath.
In Mayleen’s apartment, on her ratty sofa.
Without Raine.
And as I remember everything, my relief turns to bitter anger and despair. Raine thinks I’m using his brother, and Jesse Lee. That I’m wasting their money on drugs or booze. No wonder he hates me.
Fuck. It’s as if I can never catch a break in my goddamn life.
It pisses me off, and it stabs me deep inside, because he’s right to think I’m a junkie and a good-for-nothing. If I allowed myself to let go, I’d snort enough coke to escape reality for good. I mean, some people are depressed. I’m not. My life is shit, and it’s all I can do not to go knocking on the Club’s door and beg for a bag of powder to take off the edge of despair.
But Raine can’t know this, any of this, and these dreams need to stop.
Mayleen puts her suitcase down, an old, battered thing covered in stickers, and hesitates. “Tell me the truth, Jason. Why are you sending me away?”
Using my full name is a sure sign that she’s super serious and not up to any hedging and teasing.
Just as well. Not sure I am, either. But I try anyway.
“What are you talking about?” I force a grin and scratch the back of my neck, then lower my hand hurriedly. She knows my tells. “I found you a good job, a nice place. You told me how many times over the years that you wanted out. Well, you’re out.”
Her face lights up, and I don’t have to force the grin anymore. Hell yeah, this is a good thing. She’ll be safe, she’ll be happy.
“And what about Adam?”
“I’m getting you all out. Trust me.”
“And what about you?”
I open my mouth, but again the words don’t come. Dammit. “I uh. I’ll follow you. Soon.”
“Jason.” She stares me dead in the eye. “Promise me.”
“Promise you what?”
“That you’re getting out, too. That your plan includes yourself.” She puffs out a breath, tucks her hair behind one ear, her long earrings twinkling. “Come on, don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?” She’s lost me here.
“You promised me once before, Jason. That we’d stick together, no matter what. I’m holding you to that promise.”
Shit. “We were kids.”
“We were fourteen, and what the hell does that matter?” She takes my hand in her smaller one. “I’m not leaving unless you promise again.” She squeezes, her grip surprisingly strong for someone that fragile-looking. Those green eyes pin me like a moth on paper. “Promise.”
Jesus. “I… I promise I’ll try, May.”
“Not good enough.” Her voice hardens. “Come with me now.”
“I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?”