Page 21 of Drawn Blue Lines

Regency Court – Room 233

“Fuck!” I balled it up and threw it across the bar.

She knew about Leo Pinellas.

Worse than that, now I had no choice.

Her trump card ended up being my Achilles heel.

Chapter Seven

Adriana

The scotch smelled like Band-Aids soaked in disinfectant.I had no idea how he drank this shit.

Picking up the clear plastic cup, I popped the pills in my hand into my mouth and tossed back what was left, shuddering at the vile taste.

It tasted just as bad.

Crushing the flimsy cup in my hand, I crossed the tiny motel room and dropped it in the trash can. Then again, I was drinking cheap booze out of a plastic cup I found on the bathroom counter. I wasn’t exactly the epitome of class. I might as well have sipped Cristal from a salad bowl.

My father would roll over in his grave if he saw how low I’d sunk.

My father.

The words hit my chest, knocking the breath out of me. My lungs seized as if I’d run full speed into a brick wall. I groped the scalloped neckline of my dress, desperate for something to ground me to this room. Far away from the lies whispered to a little girl or the truth beaten into a defiant woman.

But this was reality, and the truth was, my father wouldn’t care what I’d become. He wouldn’t care because he wasn’t my father.He never had been.

The same numbness started to surface, and I closed my eyes and squeezed my fists by my hips, fighting it with every fiber of my being. I refused to drift in between worlds, hovering in that fragment of space where no light could penetrate.

A void. An abyss.

I squeezed my fists tighter, my nails digging hard into my palms. “No,” I whispered. “I won’t give you power. Not here. Not now.” Opening my eyes, I blinked a few times as the room came back into focus.

I was still here in this crap-ass motel room.

Slowly, I unclenched my fists and glanced down at my phone.

And he was late.

Running a hand down the front of my dress, I straightened the tight lacy material, and a small smile tugged at one corner of my mouth. The royal blue lace overlay hardly masked the body-hugging nude lining. It had better do the trick because I was running out of options.

Grabbing my phone off the stained red and lime greenbedspread, I tossed it between my hands a few times and then checked the time.

9:36 p.m.

I had to give Brody points for self-control. After leaving Caliente a little after two o’clock, I would’ve bet money he’d have beaten my door down by at least four. Although, to be fair, the note I left wasn’t exactly inviting. I’d wanted to antagonize him. Maybe push his buttons a little.

I eyed the offensive scotch bottle sitting on the small table as the clock on my phone changed to 9:41 p.m. If he dragged out this pissing contest much longer, I might be tempted to drink more than a sip just to block out the image of the dark ring around the bathtub and the stains on the bed.

God, I missed having money.

I had just grabbed the last plastic cup from the bathroom and filled it with the vile liquid when the sound of repeated fists pounding on my door diverted my attention.

“Adriana! Adriana open this damn door right now, or I swear to God, I’ll break it down.”

For reasons I couldn’t explain, I smiled and swayed my hips, sashaying across the room until I was pressed against the cheap metal. Holding the bandage flavored disinfectant in one hand, I pressed the other against the door. “Who is it?”

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