Page 10 of Out of My Flocking Mind

It always came down to this, didn’t it? Every person in my life seemed to want the same thing—to own me in some way. They wanted me to give up what I had and accept a place by their side, like that was winning the lottery. They thought me trading my life for theirs was a step up I should take gratefully.

And why did it still disappoint me so much? Why was it still so upsetting to hear that? Maybe because I’d taken so much time trying to stand on my own, because I cherished that freedom so much, so when the people who should have understood me didn’t?

It hurt.

But I couldn’t explain that because it felt like bearing a fresh wound, like admitting to my own weaknesses, and I hated that.

So I did what I always did. I plastered a smile on my lips and pretended like nothing hurt me.

Chapter Three

There was something uncomfortable about spending time with Ignis. I mean, there was the disconcerting feeling that came with hanging out with a person whose job comprised analyzing the thoughts of people for a living.

Maybe that would have bothered me more if I’d worried about my sanity, but the truth was I knew exactly how shitty my choices were. It didn’t take someone with a PhD to recognize that.

Despite that, however, I still adored my time with her. She managed to make me feel as though someone could tolerate me even with all my nonsense.

“Another!” I called out loudly after gulping down the shot, barely giving myself time for a grimace before demanding more.

“Don’t you think you should slow down?” Ignis asked.

I pursed my lips and blew a raspberry, sputtering both saliva and liquor as I did so. “Slowing down is the last thing I want! We came out to have fun.”

“Actually, we ‘came out’ because you claimed you were in crisis,” Ignis said, though her tone held no actual upset.

“I am in crisis.”

“Being bored isn’t crisis.”

Before I could respond, the bartender brought over another four shots and placed them on the table. He sure attended to us quickly, but the flashy credit card I’d given to him earlier opened a hell of a lot of doors, I’d found. It was thicker than most others and made of metal. It was black, and had Kelvin’s name along the bottom.

Was it petty to run up his card?

Maybe.

Did I plan to stop?

Well, ask that to my new, fancy outfit and the embarrassingly large bar tab we’d run up so far tonight.

The moment I flashed that card, however, people started acting a hell of a lot nicer. Money really did open doors, and I planned to walk my ass through them at Kelvin’s expense.

“So what’s with the drinking?” Ignis asked. Her words weren’t as crisp as they were when sober, but she also hadn’t held up her end of the drinking games. I’d probably gone two or three for every one of her drinks.

Not that that was all that uncommon. For as much as I adored Ignis, she wasn’t much of a drinker.

I wasn’t either, a lot of the time, but today? Today the idea of getting black-out drunk sounded fan-fucking-tastic. Hell, maybe liquor then a quickie with a handsome and stupid man who took directions well to top off the evening.

“Grey?” Ignis’ voice reminded me of her question.

“Rough couple days,” I admitted.

She nodded. “I heard from Harrison about what happened.”

I flinched at first, thinking about the attack, about that horrible feeling of someone slithering into my mind to unlock everything inside.

“Grey?” Warmth on my arm made me jerk my head up to realize Ignis had been talking to me.

I blinked quickly, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts and memories that I’d hoped I’d drowned in alcohol already. I smiled. “When was that?”

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