Page 73 of Overcast

He motions impatiently with his hand. “Alright, brat, lift your shirt and—”

“No.”

“Stormi,” he warns. “If you bleed out on my sister’s bed, I’ll have hell to deal with.”

I lift my own shoulders. “Sucks to be you.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “If I move, are you going to scream?” I nod. “You’re asking for it.” Not sure what that means, but don’t care to know.

”I can get looked at tomorrow when I go back. It’ll—”

“Yeah...about that.” His hand goes to rub the back of his neck. “There’s been a change of plans.”

I swing my head for the hundredth time during this conversation.

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I am going home.”

“You don’t have a home.”

His cold fact hits my gut, and I cringe in response to it. He need not know what I plan on doing. In fact, I hope he never finds out because I’m disappearing after this.

I just need to Google someone that can help me change my name and get me the documentation I need.

“You don’t have a bank account,” he continues. “You don’t own the house you’re living in, your piece of shit dad does and—”

“What does that have to do with you? You’ve done enough to me.”

“I want to help you, but—” This time, I tread in his direction. The scream I want to break free from my lips is about to blow from pure frustration.

"You can help me by walking out of this room. I want you to leave me alone. I never want you to shadow my doorstep again. Your sister promised to—"

“Those men will find you again, and God knows what they wanted. Somehow, you’re in this.”

"No—" I reach up to rub my right temple. "—I'm taking off. I'm not your problem. And I'm never coming—" Emric is chest to chest with me, bumping me a little with his flat torso, and my lips snap shut.

My stomach twists tighter. I don’t feel good. I’m hot, have been since I ran desperately into this house, and I’ve been sweating ever since.

“You’re going to, what?” Emric’s tone is light, but it’s a ploy. A game. He’s a master manipulator, and I’m the target.

“It’s none of—”

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t pull the ‘none of your business’ line with me. I’ve heard the shit so often in my lifetime with Reagan that I’m not going to deal with it when it comes to you.”

I force my chin to rise. It’s time to show him I’m not the weak little girl he picked up during a screwed up situation. “It’s true.”

“I’ll decide on what I make my problem.”

How many different ways can you tell someone to leave you alone?

"And making sure you don't bleed to death is one. You're coming back with me in the morning after Reagan makes you breakfast. You're going to stay until I have this figured out."

“I will not be stay—”

“If you do—” He leans closer, smelling of weed and liquor. “—and do it like a good girl, I’ll get you documentation to change your identity. I will give you compensation for the trouble I put you through to start a fresh life. Whether you like it or not, sweetheart, you were in this the moment I yanked you from that shithole you were camped up in. And if you go out there now, you’re a walking neon sign for those men to come back and swoop you up. And I can’t save you.”

“You didn’t save me—”

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