Reaper's Fall
Page 48
“Yeah, because art is so fucking lucrative,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It’s fun, but the club has more important shit that needs doing. I’m gonna go now—take care, okay?”
Then he gave me a hard kiss and walked out of the room. Five minutes later Jess opened my door without knocking as I scrambled to cover myself with a blanket. At least Taz wasn’t behind her this time . . .
“You and I will be having a talk later,” she said, her face stern. “But right now I need you downstairs and ready for the carnival in ten minutes.”
I scowled.
“When you’re trying to recruit volunteers, it’s a good idea to be nice. You know, the opposite of your normal self?”
She sighed and shook her head.
“I’m not being mean—I’m just worried about you. This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”
Oh, she was so out of line. Sooo out of line.
“Hypocrite, much? At least I know Painter’s real name. You dragged Taz home and I’ll bet you don’t know his. Do you?”
Her eyes flicked away. Ha! Suck it, bitch.
“That’s different,” she replied after a long pause.
“How—exactly—is it different?”
“I don’t care who I sleep with,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe that makes me a slut, but I don’t get emotionally involved when I fuck someone. It’s just sex . . . but I don’t think it’s just sex for you and Painter, and that means you’re going to be really hurt when he screws you over. And he will screw you over—he’s like me, Mel. Slutty. He doesn’t care who he hurts and he’s got the track record to prove it. You deserve better than a guy who’ll use you and then disappear.”
Wow. That was dark.
“I think that’s simultaneously the nicest and nastiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I admitted, frustrated. I reached for a T-shirt, pulling it over my head before leaning toward my dresser for some fresh panties. (One of the joys of having a very small bedroom—you can always reach everything.) She sighed, dropping down next to me on the bed.
“Melanie, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” she said, catching and holding my gaze. “You’re the one who never judges me or hates me for the stupid shit I’ve done—”
“Oh, I’ve hated you a few times.”
She rolled her eyes, bumping into me with her shoulder. “You know what I mean. It’s not a secret I’ve had issues. The counseling has helped, but you’ve stood by me through everything, even before I pulled my head out of my ass. You’re always the smart one, the one making the good decisions. You keep me on track and tell me when I’m doing something stupid that’ll hurt me. Now it’s my turn. Painter and Taz are fun guys—they’re sexy and exciting, and I’m sure Painter’s really good in the sack. Taz sure as hell is. But don’t think for one instant that I believe what he says or that I’m counting on him to be around when I need him.”
“Hey, just because you had a bad experience with Painter doesn’t mean he’s incapable of doing good things,” I snapped. “And what’s with this ‘I bet he’s good in the sack’ shit? I thought you slept with him last year, out at the Armory.”
The thought of them together still ate at me. I’d always sworn I didn’t want to know the details. Now I did. I totally did.
Jess looked away.
“It wasn’t a bad experience because of him, not really. I was fucked up that night, drunk and stupid. We spent about half an hour together in a room upstairs, me and him and another guy, Banks. That’s when London showed up to rescue me, along with Reese.”
“But how did you go from drunk and stupid to screwing two guys?” I asked without thinking. Shit, how inappropriate was that question? “Sorry.”
“We’ve covered the whole slut thing already,” Jess said, looking embarrassed. “So, moving along—that sucked. I was humiliated and pissed and I probably blamed him for a while, which is ridiculous because the whole thing was my idea in the first place. Not only that, he saved my life down in California and spent a year in jail for his trouble, so if anything, I owe him even more than I owe you. But here’s reality—he’s not interested in being with anyone long-term and unless you’ve been kidnapped and reprogrammed by aliens in the last twenty-four hours, you’re not looking to be a club whore. I just don’t see what good can come from the two of you sleeping together.”
“Maybe I just want to have fun,” I told her, resentment building. “Have you considered that? I’ve busted ass for years, trying to hold my dad together and my life and school and everything else. Maybe it’s my turn to have some fucking fun, so you should back off.”
Jess stared at me, stunned.
“Mel . . .”
“No,” I continued. I was on a roll. Maybe we should sort this shit out once and for all. “I love you and I appreciate the fact that you’re worried about me. You did your duty as a friend. I’m awarding you a gold star and a cookie, but now it’s time for you to walk out of here and let me make my own decisions.”
Jess stood slowly, still looking unhappy. “All right, then. I’ll leave you to it. But Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“When it all falls apart around you and you’re scared shitless? I want you to remember one thing.”
Then he gave me a hard kiss and walked out of the room. Five minutes later Jess opened my door without knocking as I scrambled to cover myself with a blanket. At least Taz wasn’t behind her this time . . .
“You and I will be having a talk later,” she said, her face stern. “But right now I need you downstairs and ready for the carnival in ten minutes.”
I scowled.
“When you’re trying to recruit volunteers, it’s a good idea to be nice. You know, the opposite of your normal self?”
She sighed and shook her head.
“I’m not being mean—I’m just worried about you. This is a dangerous game you’re playing.”
Oh, she was so out of line. Sooo out of line.
“Hypocrite, much? At least I know Painter’s real name. You dragged Taz home and I’ll bet you don’t know his. Do you?”
Her eyes flicked away. Ha! Suck it, bitch.
“That’s different,” she replied after a long pause.
“How—exactly—is it different?”
“I don’t care who I sleep with,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe that makes me a slut, but I don’t get emotionally involved when I fuck someone. It’s just sex . . . but I don’t think it’s just sex for you and Painter, and that means you’re going to be really hurt when he screws you over. And he will screw you over—he’s like me, Mel. Slutty. He doesn’t care who he hurts and he’s got the track record to prove it. You deserve better than a guy who’ll use you and then disappear.”
Wow. That was dark.
“I think that’s simultaneously the nicest and nastiest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I admitted, frustrated. I reached for a T-shirt, pulling it over my head before leaning toward my dresser for some fresh panties. (One of the joys of having a very small bedroom—you can always reach everything.) She sighed, dropping down next to me on the bed.
“Melanie, you’re the best friend I’ve ever had,” she said, catching and holding my gaze. “You’re the one who never judges me or hates me for the stupid shit I’ve done—”
“Oh, I’ve hated you a few times.”
She rolled her eyes, bumping into me with her shoulder. “You know what I mean. It’s not a secret I’ve had issues. The counseling has helped, but you’ve stood by me through everything, even before I pulled my head out of my ass. You’re always the smart one, the one making the good decisions. You keep me on track and tell me when I’m doing something stupid that’ll hurt me. Now it’s my turn. Painter and Taz are fun guys—they’re sexy and exciting, and I’m sure Painter’s really good in the sack. Taz sure as hell is. But don’t think for one instant that I believe what he says or that I’m counting on him to be around when I need him.”
“Hey, just because you had a bad experience with Painter doesn’t mean he’s incapable of doing good things,” I snapped. “And what’s with this ‘I bet he’s good in the sack’ shit? I thought you slept with him last year, out at the Armory.”
The thought of them together still ate at me. I’d always sworn I didn’t want to know the details. Now I did. I totally did.
Jess looked away.
“It wasn’t a bad experience because of him, not really. I was fucked up that night, drunk and stupid. We spent about half an hour together in a room upstairs, me and him and another guy, Banks. That’s when London showed up to rescue me, along with Reese.”
“But how did you go from drunk and stupid to screwing two guys?” I asked without thinking. Shit, how inappropriate was that question? “Sorry.”
“We’ve covered the whole slut thing already,” Jess said, looking embarrassed. “So, moving along—that sucked. I was humiliated and pissed and I probably blamed him for a while, which is ridiculous because the whole thing was my idea in the first place. Not only that, he saved my life down in California and spent a year in jail for his trouble, so if anything, I owe him even more than I owe you. But here’s reality—he’s not interested in being with anyone long-term and unless you’ve been kidnapped and reprogrammed by aliens in the last twenty-four hours, you’re not looking to be a club whore. I just don’t see what good can come from the two of you sleeping together.”
“Maybe I just want to have fun,” I told her, resentment building. “Have you considered that? I’ve busted ass for years, trying to hold my dad together and my life and school and everything else. Maybe it’s my turn to have some fucking fun, so you should back off.”
Jess stared at me, stunned.
“Mel . . .”
“No,” I continued. I was on a roll. Maybe we should sort this shit out once and for all. “I love you and I appreciate the fact that you’re worried about me. You did your duty as a friend. I’m awarding you a gold star and a cookie, but now it’s time for you to walk out of here and let me make my own decisions.”
Jess stood slowly, still looking unhappy. “All right, then. I’ll leave you to it. But Mel?”
“Yeah?”
“When it all falls apart around you and you’re scared shitless? I want you to remember one thing.”
