I get comfortable, fully facing her and propping my head on my hand. Her eyes flutter when I notch my finger under her chin, demanding her full attention.
Gently, she pulls away, but I don’t let it bother me. It’s a start.
“Your mom doesn’t hate you, Addie. She hates herself. And she doesn’t
resent you because you’re not living the life she wanted for herself, she resents
you because you were living the life you wanted, and she wasn’t.”
She stares at me, seeming to contemplate that.
“The best thing you can do is keep living that life, little mouse. Continue being a successful author who loves horror movies and haunted fairs. Who loves her Nana and the gothic mansion she inherited and finds a thrill out of the ghosts
that walk the halls. You’ve always been unapologetically you.”
She wrinkles her nose as if she’s disgusted. “So, you’re wise and shit, too?”
She scoffs, a sound of abhorrence, though there’s a faint glimmer in her eye.
“Despicable. What are you bad at?”
My smile turns salacious, enjoying the way red tints her cheeks. “I’m very bad at lots of things. And I hear that practice makes perfect.”
She groans and shoves me, and I laugh when she flips over, turning her back
to me. We both know she’s laughing, too, but she just isn’t ready to admit it yet.
That’s okay. I’ve got nothing but time.
Chapter 24
The Diamond
“I have an awkward question,” I start, and I almost immediately regret saying
anything at all when Zade grins slyly at me. He probably thinks I’m going to ask
him to do something weird.
This will be the first time I’m planning on leaving the property since I’ve been home, and my anxiety is high. It’s been a little over a week since I had talked about my mom with Zade, and it made me feel… better. Enough to get up every day, shower, take walks to the cliff, get some fresh air, and just… live.
I think I’ve reached the point where I need to feel human again, but there’s been one nagging concern in my head that’s keeping me from feeling that.
“Can… Would you mind driving me to the clinic?”
Usually, I’d drive myself, but the thought of getting behind the wheel again makes me break out in hives. My car was totaled in the accident, and even though Zade bought me a new one, I can hardly get in it without having an anxiety attack. Plus, it’s missing the ketchup stain on the roof, and I miss that stain. I still don’t remember where it came from, but I’m pretty sure it was from a flyaway French fry after I hit a speed bump too hard.
So anyway, I decided Zade taking me would cause more annoyance, but less
panic.
His face relaxes, and I think he knows what I’m asking.
“Sure, baby,” he agrees, nodding toward the door. “I’ll be in the car.”
He stands, then pauses and looks at me. “And by the way, nothing is awkward
between us. If you need me to pluck a butthole hair, I’ll do it.” He shrugs, “Or
you know, pop an ingrown hair on your vagina.”
My mouth drops open, but then my eyes narrow, and I cross my arms.
“How much shit did you watch me do when you were being a little creep?”
His grin only widens in response before he walks out of the door.
I swear I hate him.
But I’m thankful that he’s not asking questions. How does one say, hey, I want to get tested for STDs because I had a bunch of dicks in me without at least one person feeling uncomfortable? Doesn’t really come out right, no matter how you word it.
I will forever be thankful for Francesca forcing Rocco and his friends to use
condoms, aside from the first time Rocco assaulted me. She said we would be worthless if they gave us diseases. But it was useless anyway—they certainly didn’t use condoms when they forced us to perform oral. I think it just made Francesca feel like she was being responsible.
According to Rio, there was an incident long before I arrived, where one of
the guys gave all the girls syphilis. Since then, Francesca has been diligent about
them getting tested if they wanted to partake in our ‘lessons,’ but I wouldn’t trust any of them to actually keep their dicks clean.
Xavier used condoms, too, but there was one occurrence when the condom
broke. I bite my lip, anxiety flaring just thinking about that minuscule chance that I got knocked up anyway, despite that I have the IUD. It’s improbable, but not impossible.
My heart drops, picturing the disgusted look on Zade’s face when finding out
that I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.
I know him well enough by now that I’m confident he wouldn’t actually give
me that look, but that image plagues me anyway.
I wouldn’t blame him if he did. That disgust is what I feel every time I stare
in the mirror. Which is why I tend to avoid it at all costs.
I’m getting a pregnancy test, and if I did get that unlucky, I’m throwing myself off the building next.
I’ve been out of the house for a total of two hours and forty-seven minutes,
and I’m fucking exhausted. I'm still riddled with anxiety, nauseated by the possibility that I’m as filthy as I feel.
“You look like you need ice cream,” Zade announces, his palm flat on the steering wheel as he makes a left turn. It’s… hot. Watching Zade drive is foreplay.
Even worse, he’s wearing a leather jacket over his hoodie today, and I still haven’t been able to unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth.
I blink, the loss of blood making me a little woozy. I told the doctor to test me
for every STD known to man—especially herpes since that’s one of the scarier
and mostly silent ones—and I lost count of how many tubes of blood she drew.
She stared at the barcode on my wrist almost the entire time, and after the gauze stemmed the bleeding, she slapped a Band-Aid with smiley faces on my arm. I laughed, then cried when the pregnancy test came back negative.
“Ice cream?” I echo dumbly.
“Do you like ice cream?”
“I—well, yes,” I stutter, my brain slow to catch up with the randomness.
“What’s your favorite flavor?”
“Mint chocolate,” I answer, watching him make another turn. He’s heading in