Page 26 of Burn With Me

There are days when I wish I could just admitwhoI’ve become as a person. I’m no longer the scared little girl watching her mother dwindle away to nothing. No longer the child whose innocence was stolen by a boy with so many issues, you never knew which one you were going to get.

I’m a young adult who has had a lot of her world handed to her on a silver platter. Who is afraid to leave the comfort of her home because the thought of being alone isterrifyingbut alsoexhilarating.

It’s like the pain and the turmoil fuel me.

I’m a fucking mess.

Jackson Tailor is the last person I want caught in my tangled web. One day as a fly trapped in my silky spun lies and he’d want to tell me how fucked up I am and how I deserve everything Chris gives me.

I’m not the type of girl you just fuck and leave. I’m the type that will drag you down and fuck your life up.

Chris crosses the room and wraps his fist around my hair, pushing me into my closet. His face mere inches from mine, spittle hitting my cheeks while he clenches his teeth and asks, “Did you promise to fuck him? Guys like that don’t just give up that kind of money for a fucking dance.”

“Youwanted to parade me around tonight like a show dog. Don’tget upset when males come around and treat me like a bitch in heat. Your boss was highly impressed that you brought that kind of money in tonight. What thefuckare you so upset about?”

My voice is low—his parents are just down the hall in their room—but the rage is apparent. Reaching up, I grasp hisfist, which is more tangled in my curls than squeezing to hurt me. “Get out of my room.”

“What did thirty-day deposit mean, Ginny?” He lets go of me, retreating to the other side of my closet. It’s a walk-in, but it’s still small, leaving less than a foot between us.

“I have no idea. The guy is a douchebag.” The pins holding my hair up hurt now that they’re all askew, so I start pulling them out one by one, massaging my scalp as I go.

My comment seems to appease him. But before he can say another word Christine appears in the doorway. “What’s going on in here?”

She looks between us with apprehension written on her face. Making me wonder why, all of a sudden, she seems to have had a change of heart where her son is concerned.

“Nothing, Mother. Was just saying thank you to Ginny for whatever it was she did to get Jackson’s money.” His tone is still accusing, and I silently curse Jackson for the attention he bestowed upon me tonight.

“Oh, I read up about that man. Seems like he has a new girl on his arm every day. He’s probably already forgotten about your sister. No offense, Ginny,” Christine says as she walks further into my closet to help me remove the pins.

Her words don’t offend me. It’s clear they are spoken in an attempt to get her son to not waste any more time thinking about it, and it works.

“She’snotmy sister.”

“She is in mine and your father’s eyes.” She shoots him a look I can’t see, but whatever is on her face makes Chris roll his eyes and straighten up to leave.

“Goodnight,” he mutters as he walks out.

Neither of us says anything as we continue pulling pins out of my hair. Once we're done, she gently urges me to turn so that she can unlock the straps of my dress. My hands catch the front so it doesn’t fall off and pool to the floor.

“Thank you,” I say without turning around.

She pats my back gently. “You’re welcome, dear.”

“I heardyou had quite the night on Wednesday.”

My fork pauses midway to my mouth, a drop of vinaigrette falling back onto my plate as my eyes meet Scott’s across the table. Our regular Friday morning appointment was moved to the afternoon due to him flying in from California. Since I had a shift at Decadence after I worked at the clinic this morning, I suggested we have lunch together.

It wasn’t completely out of the ordinary to see Scott dining at Decadence. It was just usually with Carmela and sometimes Senator Mick Charles while they went over business.

Taking the bite of my salad, around a mouthful of arugula, I tell him, “Your nephew is quite the handful.”

Scott laughs and flips another piece of paper in the packet he’s initialing through. “Well, if anyone can put him in his place besides Stacey, I imagine you’d be perfect for the job.”

He looks tired. His skin has an unhealthy pallor, and there are dark circles around his eyes. “You look like you haven’t slept in a while.”

“Don’t you worry about me, Ginny.”

I’m silent for a few more bites. He hasn’t touched his sandwich. He’s barely looked up from his paperwork since he sat down.

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