Series: Like Us Series by Krista Ritchie
Total pages in book: 241
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1182(@200wpm)___ 946(@250wpm)___ 788(@300wpm)
Is that…?
Fire alarms set off inside my body, telling me to evacuate. Run. I peer back at Luna. She’s waving a french fry at Tom and smiles a little. She’s safe. She’s safe.
She’s okay.
“Donnelly?” Frog says uneasily. “Are you—?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I intake a short breath. “Duke’s on 10th—did that get leaked yet?”
Quinn checks social media. “Yeah, ten minutes ago.”
She knew I’d be here.
I can’t let her inside. So I round the table, about to leave, and O’Malley twists in his chair, seeing the woman through the window. Her eyes haven’t come unglued from mine, not even as she brings a cigarette to her thin lips. “Who is that?” O’Malley asks, tensed. “Donnelly?”
“I’m getting rid of her.”
The bell dings on the door as I exit into the foggy night, the air a little chilly for April, but I welcome the cold, as usual. The marquee bulbs of Duke’s on 10th light up the sidewalk, and I check left and right and see she’s alone.
Thin brown hair pulled into a pony, her white cheeks sunken and pock-marked from the meth. She’s all bones, and she picks at the reddened flesh on her elbow—a tic.
You can’t be here. What are you doing here? Why come at all? Questions die in my head the moment her lips curve in a familiar, endearing smile.
Vanessa.
“It’s been so long. Look at you.” She puffs out smoke and motions to my body with the cigarette in hand. “You look good. God, when was the last time I saw you? You must’ve been twenty-one, twenty-two?”
“About there.” My voice sounds choked. I’m not wearing a radio. No gun. Tonight, I haven’t been a bodyguard. And I know I’m trying to protect more than Luna and her family now. I need out. “You gotta leave.”
Her smile falters. “Now that’s no way to treat an old friend of your mom’s. She really misses you, you know?” Vanessa unzips a crocodile-skinned purse. “I found this digging through some old boxes, and I thought you’d want it. I figured you might not have too many photos of you and her together.” She hands over a creased photograph.
I’m not thinking. I just take it. Haven’t seen my mom in years. Not even a picture. But I never forgot her hair. Vibrant red. Like it’d been set on fire. Never forgot her shadowy, lost smile or the emptiness of her eyes.
We’re side by side on a couch. I’m forcing an unsure smile up at her. She’s staring at nothing. No one. She’s already gone.
“You were around seven there. Remember that?” Vanessa asks. “Your mom was twenty-one.” She takes a longer drag, then blows into the air. “Same age as your fake girlfriend.”
My stomach churns. “Real girlfriend.”
“It’s me, Paul. You don’t need to pretend. I know the truth—”
“I fell in love with her. It’s real now.”
Vanessa grimaces and itches harder at her elbow. “It can’t be real love, baby. She must be playing you…”
I step closer and hold out the photo. “I don’t want it.”
Her face fractures. “Just take a breath. We’re all in this together…yeah?” Her eyes pinch in confusion. “I’ve got some people lined up for you. It’s nothing like before—so hear me out. They’re fans of yours. They just want you to show up. You give them a peck on the cheek, make them feel good for a few hours, and they’ll pay you upfront—more than you can even believe.”
“No—”
“No?” Her face contorts.
It hits me in the gut. That I might’ve never said no to her or Bridget. Not like this, not in my whole life. “I’m not doing that—”
“It’s nothing,” she nearly spits. “A peck? A handshake? For Christ’s sake, you don’t even need to hug them. What’s the big deal?”
“I’ve got a girlfri—”
“Honey, that won’t last. That family will kick you out of their home when they figure out what you’ve done, and you’ll be wishing you had this money waiting for you. And what about your mom, huh? She’s gonna need help when she gets out. I’m just trying to make sure you’re all on two feet. The people I love. I’m not even asking for anything. Not one buck.”
“Then you won’t care that I’m not doing it.”
Disgust twists her face. “You wanna be like your piece of shit father? Is that it?” She steps towards me. I step back. She slams the heel of her palm against my chest. “Is it?!”
I’m unblinking. I see my mom smacking the shit outta my dad until he’s cowered into a ball, shielding his head with his hands. I intervene, and my dad pushes me against the fridge.
“Is it?!” Vanessa slaps me across the face—cigarette still between her fingers, it burns my cheek, and the honking New York traffic suddenly amplifies to a million.
People explode out of the diner. O’Malley is the fastest to reach her, and he thrusts himself between me and Vanessa.