“It’ll be quick,” he tells her, shoving her shorts down her legs.
“Not right now,” she slurs, closing her eyes.
You can hear him slap her, and then there’s very little struggle as he undoes his jeans, grips his hard dick and begins to fuck her. Her hands reach up and she tries to push him off, but he grabs a pillow and places it over her face, suffocating her to death. Jimmy makes sure to finish, though. Then when he gets off her, he takes what’s left of the pills and flushes them, then sets the pill bottle next to her for it to look like a suicide, hoping that they didn’t request an autopsy. A girl like Lucy—a drug addict with a suicidal background who was just released from a seventy-two-hour hold? They wouldn’t think twice about it.
“What are you going to do?” he growls when Turner ends the video.
I lean down into my bag and pull out a roll of duct tape. I rip two pieces off.
“What the fuck …?”
I place one over his lips diagonally while he tries to shake his head to prevent me from doing so. Then the other the opposite way. I go back to my bag and grab the tube.
“Hold his head,” I tell Turner.
He walks over behind the chair he’s restrained to and wraps his arm around Jimmy’s neck, in a headlock, tilting it back. Jimmy tries to fight for his freedom, but he doesn’t get it.
I walk back over to him. “You’re gonna feel some pressure …” I trail off and start to feed the tube down his nose. His body jerks, and he coughs behind the tape. His cheeks filling with air, and his eyes water. His hands clench and unclench. Once the tube is down his nose, I tip the bottle to the end and squeeze, the charcoal filling the tube. “I’m pumping your stomach, Jimmy. Just like they did hers. The only difference is that you’re going to choke on your own vomit and die.”
“Like the piece of shit you are,” Turner adds with a sinister smile.
His body starts to convulse, and we both let go of him, stepping back. We watch his body turn on itself while he chokes on his own vomit. It shoots out his nostrils, and his eyes grow cold before his head falls forward, going limp.
Turner looks over at me. “Thanks for the help.” He slaps my back.
I just nod. If it were up to me, I would have buried him alive, but this was Turner’s revenge. I’m just happy he let me be a part of it.
He pulls a joint out of his pocket and lights it up. Taking a hit, he then hands it over to me. I stare at it for a long time, thinking about Lucy and how I let her down. How, once again, I wasn’t there for her. I should have saved her. I don’t love her the way she needed me too, but I did care for her.
APRIL
I sit up in Grave’s bed the moment I hear the front door open and close. He’s been gone for hours. The sun came up three hours ago, but I’ve stayed here, waiting on him. I wasn’t able to sleep, and I’ve been sick to my stomach. Worried to death over where he went and what he was doing. Why he shut his cell off.
His bedroom door opens, and he walks in.
“Where have you been?” I demand, feeling both pissed and relived that he’s okay.
He comes to a stop and looks up, his eyes meeting mine. My heart picks up at the look in them. They’re red and I notice he stumbles. He’s either drunk or high. Maybe both.
“Not sure how that is any of your business,” he says.
“You left me here alone so you could go get fucked up?” I ask, trying to understand but not start a fight. I don’t know how fragile he is right now. Lucy is dead, and I know he’s hurting.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he sits on the end of the bed and removes his shoes. Then he stands and undoes his belt.
“Grave, we need to …”
“No, we don’t, April. What I did and where I went is none of your business,” he snaps.
“You’re doing this again. You’re trying to push me away.”
“Then take the hint and leave,” he growls.
I nod my head and lick my dry lips. “I know you’re stronger than your demons, Grave. I just wish you’d realize that too.”
He gives a rough laugh. “Don’t start that shit with me. Next thing, you’ll be telling me is to go to rehab like my brother.”
I stand from the bed. “Grave …”
“Get the fuck out of my house, April!” he shouts, pointing at the bedroom door.
My bottom lip starts to quiver, and I try to swallow the knot that forms in my throat. I don’t want to leave him, but I can’t make him let me stay. This is his house and he obviously no longer wants me.
Instead of waiting for me to do what I’m told, he enters his bathroom and slams the door shut. Then I hear the sound of the door lock.
I run over and start banging on the door. “Open the fuck up, Grave! We’re going to talk about this.”
The shower comes on, but he says nothing.
I wrap my hand around the doorknob and start shoving on the door while my free hand pounds on it. “Grave! Open the fucking …”
It swings open, jerking me into the bathroom in the process, causing me to run right into him. He stands before me shirtless and pants undone but still pulled up around his hips. His blue eyes glare down at me. I take in a shaky breath, not knowing what to do exactly. I don’t want to push him, but then again, maybe that’s what he needs. “I’m trying to help you.” I soften my voice and place my hands on his chest. His heart pounds against my palms.
“April …” he growls my name.
“Please, Grave.” I plead with him. “I love you.” I need him. What happened to Lucy was heart breaking and I’d hate to see him go down the same path. Maybe if her brothers had helped her, she wouldn’t be dead. “You told me you loved me.” He looks away from me and I see the tic in his sharp jaw. I’m not getting through to him. “Did you hear me?” I begin to slap his chest, growing desperate. “Answer me!”
Wrapping his hands around my wrists, he squeezes them, forcing me to stop. “I don’t need your help!” he snaps. “And I sure as fuck don’t need you.” Then he shoves me out of the bathroom and slams the door in my face.
I begin to cry, knowing that he’s too far gone. I’m not enough to make him stop. Lucy’s death was hard on him and not even I can numb the pain. I run a hand through my hair and get dressed before walking out with my head down. Doing as I’m told, knowing that I can’t talk him into letting me stay.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
GRAVE
I SETTLE INTO the couch, my arms fanning the back of it, and look up at the ceiling. The room spins, and my vision goes in and out while “Sail” by AWOLNATION plays through the speakers. The words pound in my head like a drum. Two weeks I’ve gone without April, and it’s been hell. But it’s what I deserve. I was horrible to her. Just because I had a moment of weakness. I told her I didn’t need her and to leave. She fucking left. What did I expect her to do?
“Man, it’s gonna be fine,” I hear Trey say as he snorts a line of coke off the coffee table. “You were fine without her before, and you’ll be fine now.”
I block him out, close my eyes, and listen to the thunder shake the walls. I draw in a long breath and fill my lungs with the tainted drugs. It’s not the same.