Page 41 of Out of My Flocking Mind

“How often?”

“That I can’t tell you. When did you start feeling unwell?”

“Two weeks ago,” Harrison said when I didn’t answer. At my look, he shrugged. “You started rubbing your temples at that point.”

“Two weeks ago means you went three weeks without serious symptoms. You could probably go two weeks then, but I’d suggest you try not to go more than a one.”

“That often?” I shuddered at the idea of being trapped like that, as though a noose tightened around my throat. “Why one week instead of two?”

“Just because you don’t tell the effects right away doesn’t mean they aren’t there. You’ll start feeling sick by week two, but your body will struggle before then. To feel your best, you’ll need more venom each week.”

“More venom, huh?” I laughed at the way he phrased it, how innocent it sounded. He made it seem so simple, like we weren’t talking about him sinking his fangs into my neck.

And I tried very hard not to think about what would happen after that, because I sure as fuck couldn’t imagine resisting the way his venom made me feel. It meant that every single time we had to do this—weekly it sounded, like some fucked-up therapy session—I’d end up in this same position?

It took me back to when he’d bit me, to the way I’d felt strangled by it.

“I’ll give you a moment.” Harrison rose from his seat, walking toward the backdoor. He headed outside, leaving Kelvin and me alone.

Fuck, that wasn’t what I’d wanted. If anything, it made the tension between us even more overwhelming, more obvious. Every moment that passed, my heart pounded harder against my ribcage, so loud that I would have sworn Kelvin could easily hear it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft. It was a far cry from the memory of last night, the filthy things he’d whispered into my ear. In the daylight, he seemed like a different person.

I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the table, trying to slow my breathing.

“What can I do?”

I shook my head, unsure of what to say. What I wanted was for him to fix this, to make it so it never happened, so I wasn’t trapped. However, I knew better than most that there were some bells that couldn’t get unrung. This was one of them. “It’s funny—I didn’t think this possible before. Even after you bit me, when I was waiting for the trial, I didn’t think you could really form a bond.”

“I’m not trying to cause you pain,” he said. “I want to make this as easy as possible, but I don’t know how to do that.”

I snorted, my eyes closed, hating the way him speaking—even from across the table—still somehow sounded like him whispering right into my ear. It felt intimate, even more so since I wasn’t looking at him. “How did we end up here?”

“Maybe we were always headed here. I’m not a man who believes in fate, but maybe there is something to be said about paths intertwining.” He paused, then let out a soft sigh. “I met with a Nature Spirit one time, and they claimed that the entire world was formed out of a tree, that we were all just roots and branches and leaves on the same tree, bound together like vines. I thought he was an idiot back then, but when I look at you? I wonder if there wasn’t some truth to that theory, because I’ve felt a pull toward you all the years that I’ve known you.”

“Fate is bullshit.”

“The fact you believe that doesn’t surprise me. You aren’t the type to want to believe in anything having control of your life.”

“And yet here I am, bound to you. If there is such a thing as fate, she’s a fucking bitch.” I turned my head on the table so I could look over at him, resting my cheek against the smooth wood. I expected at first for him to argue, for him to tell me all about how I was wrong, that I should accept my place, that it wasn’t so bad.

Whether Kelvin just knew better than to try to sell me that shit or if he truly understood how hollow those words would be, he didn’t do it. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah, well, we’re in agreement about that. She really is one mean bitch, and all we can try to do is survive her.”

* * * *

I had needed the weekend to recover, but that didn’t mean my brain was any less frazzled come Monday. Still, I forced myself to get up, get dressed, and drag my ass to school along with Harrison.

The man who, by the way, had failed to even mention what had happened with Kelvin. Whether he did that because he regretted it or he was just trying to be nice, I had no idea. Whatever the reasoning, I appreciated it. I didn’t want to discuss that mess—even if the reality was that it had replayed in my head over and over again.

And yet again when I’d taken a leisurely bath. As it turned out, I was exceedingly good at remembering details at moments like that. I rather enjoyed the memory of the time, even if I’d never admit that to anyone.

So here we were, back and school, another pocket full of drugs to pawn off on other kids. I just had to hope that we’d find our supplier soon, because I had no idea how long I could keep this up. It wasn’t the selling, or even the guilt, but more the eight in the morning start time and snotty kids.

And the slang. No cap? I still had no fucking idea what that meant, but I knew that by saying it, I annoyed the little fuckers here which was exactly why I said it so often.

I took a sip of the coffee, wondering just how a school could have a café on campus. The reasoning didn’t matter that much—I planned to take full advantage of it. And I had. This was my third cup of the day. Even without the sexy memories from last week, my heart rate was in peak condition from all the caffeine I’d poured down my throat.

I’d sold a few bags thus far, mostly to regulars who had come to me the week before. It seemed that Harrison had done what he’d said, managing to create a product that people wanted to try again. It worked well enough for me.

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