Hideaway (Devil's Night 2)
The young guy, probably only a few years older than me, looked at me like he was part terrified and part confused.
Okay, let me be clearer then.
I got in his face. “Get. Out!” I bellowed, my face hot with fire as I whipped the cane against the wall above his head over and over again. “Get the fuck out! Go! Go! Go!”
“What the fuck?” he barked, scrambling off the bed and scurrying for his clothes. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Nik, what are you doing?” I heard my mother ask me, but I ignored her.
I breathed hard. The camera, the men, drugs…fucking slut. I swallowed the bile rising up my throat.
The guy scrambled back into his jeans, grabbing his shoes and swiping his shirt off the chair, and shot me a scowl as he bolted from the room.
My mother quickly slipped into her nightgown and robe, but I followed the guy out, making sure he took his friend.
I saw him hopping on one leg, trying to get his shoes on. “Man, get up!” he whisper-yelled to his buddy.
The other one started to peel himself off the sofa, but I bolted over and grabbed the camera.
“Hey, that’s ours!” the young one shouted. “We paid her! What’s on that is ours!”
But I just stood there, my fist squeezing the cane as I dared them. “Gabriel,” I said slowly. “Torrance.”
They quickly exchanged a look, and I watched as their faces fell. Yeah, that’s right. That name was useful when I needed it to be.
They didn’t know my father couldn’t give a shit less about what my mother did.
“Get out,” I repeated one last time.
They moved slowly, but they moved. They picked up their coats, grabbed their drugs, and walked out the door, the young one shooting me anot
her displeased little scowl before he walked out. “She wasn’t any good anyway,” he spat, his eyes flashing behind me.
They walked out, and I charged over, kicking the door shut right behind them.
Hearing a shuffle behind me, I whipped around, tossing the stick onto the couch.
My mother stood in the living room, having just come out of the hallway, her red silk robe falling mid-thigh, partially covering her pink nightie. She chewed her thumbnail, chin trembling.
“What’s the video camera for?” I asked.
“I needed money.”
“I give you money!”
“That doesn’t even cover rent!”
Her eyes pooled with tears, and I charged over to the couch, tossing off the new pillows she’d bought.
“What about this shit?” I charged, continuing to walk around the living room, sending a wall hanging swinging on its nail and a crystal bowl on the end table wobbling.
I turned around, taking in her fake nails with the French manicure and the spray tan. Gabriel paid me shit, a “woman’s wage” compared to what David, Lev, and Ilia made, and after I paid my rent and the few utilities I had, she got the rest. I somehow managed to live on less! Why couldn’t she? I felt a sob well up in my throat, and I just wanted to fucking strangle her.
“There’s millions of other people in the world and they make it work somehow!” I shouted, charging up and getting in her face.
Everything was fucked, and the walls were closing in. I hated my life. I hated Damon and my father and Kai and everyone. I just wanted to go to sleep for a year. When were things going to be different?
“He was right,” I gritted out, staring at her but seeing only myself. “You’re just a sloppy, junkie whore! What are ya gonna do when no one wants to pay for your tired, old pussy anymore? Your tits are already sagging down to your knees!”