“Hey, Tally.” I open the door wide. “What’s up?”
“Just checking in to see if you guys need anything.”
I glance at the staircase. “Chaser’s been…sick. He’s sleeping.”
“Oh, sorry,” he whispers. “You want to get out of the house for a bit?”
“Actually, I was out earlier. At the library.”
“The library?” He rocks back on his heels. “I’ve lived here my whole life, and I don’t think I could find it if I had to.”
“I wouldn’t advertise that.”
He chuckles.
I jot down a quick note for Chaser.
Not that he’ll wake up and wonder where I am, but just in case.
Chaser
Out with Tally. Love, M.
I read the note a few more times. It doesn’t say anything different.
How long was I asleep?
Why the fuck is she out with him again? I glance around the kitchen. My father went all out fixing up the house for us. New appliances replaced the hideous avocado green ones I grew up with. I’m not sure how long he expects us to stick around or if he wanted to fix it up because he plans to sell it after we leave. Or maybe he just needed a way to launder some dirty cash. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful the hideous gold carpet is also gone. The walls have been freshly painted some sort of cream color Mallory picked out. Most of the furniture is brand new too.
Furniture Mallory picked out with another man.
“Fuck.” I scratch my hands through my hair and yawn. So fucking tired. But at least I haven’t had any coke in days. Still crave it like a motherfucker. Sleep holds the cravings at bay. So I spend lots of time doing that. The shadow monsters still chase me in my nightmares, but they’re less vivid and don’t come for me as often.
I guess it’s progress.
Headlights wash over the kitchen, and an engine rumbles in the driveway. I move to the front door and stare out the lone diamond-shaped pane of glass. Tally’s truck.
Fucker.
I blow out a breath and retreat to the living room.
What the fuck are they doing out there?
Finally, Mallory’s key scratches in the lock, and the door swings open. She turns and waves, a big smile on her face.
The smile vanishes when she notices me in the living room. “You’re up.”
“Hello to you, too.”
She closes the door and flips the locks. Seems more like a stall tactic than a safety precaution. Can’t imagine why, I sure have been a delight to be around lately.
“Was that Tally’s truck?”
“He wanted to come in and say hi, but I told him you were sick.” She shrugs and walks into the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”
Starving. If I’m not sleeping, I’m eating lately. She may not want to talk to me or even look at me, but Mallory’s fed me like a king since we moved in here.
Tonight, I couldn’t give a fuck about food. “Where were you?”
“Out with Tally.”
“Yeah, got that. Where?”
She turns away from the refrigerator and frowns. “We went to the movies.”
Not sure I heard her correctly, I cross my arms over my chest and stare at her. “You went on a date with one of my brothers?”
She blinks, and her gaze searches the kitchen as if I’d directed my question to someone else. “What are you talking about?”
“I haven’t even taken you to a movie yet.” Shit, does Mallory even like movies? Of course she does. She wants to be an actress for fuck’s sake. Why haven’t I taken her out on a normal date?
“We’re both busy working when we’re in L.A.,” she says quietly. “It’s not a big deal.”
“I don’t like you going out with other men.”
“Going out with other men? Are you listening to yourself? He’s been friendly to me. That’s all.”
“How friendly?”
“Are you kidding?” She smacks her hand against the refrigerator. “Your father made him take me shopping.”
“Yeah, to punish me.”
“Well, you were too busy getting high to care.”
Ouch. First time she’s lobbed that one at me. I deserve it. Doesn’t mean I enjoy it.
“I don’t want you going out with him again.”
She glares at me. “Is that right?”
“You’re supposed to be here helping me. Not running around with one of my brothers.” Holy hell, I can’t even blame those idiotic words on cocaine.
Anger glitters in her eyes, but she answers with disturbing calm. “I’m here, Chaser. I’ve been here every single day since we left L.A.” She jabs her finger in my direction. “And you’re accusing me of cheating? Are you serious?”
“I didn’t accuse you of anything.”
“You know what?” She drops the box of pasta in her hands on the counter. “Feed yourself. I’m going to bed.”
I reach for her as she passes me, an apology burning a hole in my tongue. But she jerks her body away. “Sleep in your old room tonight.”
“I’m not sleeping in there.”
“Then sleep on the couch. You’re not sleeping with me.” Her lips flatten into a grim line, and she jogs up the stairs. A few seconds later, the bedroom door slams shut.