Page 67 of Embers of Torment

Della

Half crawling, half falling off the couch onto the floor, I took a moment to get it together and stood, ignoring the crumpled tissue glued to my kneecap. After twenty-four hours of nonstop crying, I was emotionally, mentally, and physically exhausted, with my heartache temporarily tucked away.

I glanced at the clock on my bookshelf and wobbled to the bathroom to pee, not bothering to straighten my twisted-up pajama shorts and tank top. Finished, I washed my hands and stared at my image in the mirror. "Holy moly, what a freaking monster."I turned my head from side to side, musing at how hideous I looked. My complexion was a blotchy red-and-purple mess, lined with streaks of mascara, and my face was so swollen my eyes were reduced to horizontal slits. I poked at my bird's nest of pink hair, standing up in multiple directions with an elastic band tangled by my ear.

I grinned at my reflection, curious if it would enhance or detract from the stunning image. "Oh, my. That's better. Della,you are freaking lovely," I gushed before bursting into a round of hysterical laughter. Once my outburst subsided, I wobbled back to the living room and plopped onto the couch, noticing the wads of used tissue stuck to the soles of my feet. Bereft of energy, I toppled to my side with half my body dangling awkwardly off the upholstery.

I didn't care.

I lay there for a long time, staring at the wall until I had to move. My leg had cramped and was hurting, the pain steadily growing worse. I tried to sit, but it was too much effort, and I rolled off the cushions instead. Sprawled on the floor, I reflected on the shit show of my life.

The asshat from my childhood at Bertram Elementary was Jace. How, for God's sake, did he end up thrown back into my life? I tilted my head toward the ceiling and closed my barely open eyes.What did I ever do to deserve this?

Sighing, I shifted my shoulder and straightened my leg. I always tried to be a decent person, so it wasn't divine intervention. There was logic here, somewhere. Adam! He was the key. I wouldn't have met Jace for the second time if it weren't for Adam. But what in the bejesus brought Adam to Morgan Systems from North Carolina? That was an intriguing question, and I'd have to wait until later for the answer.

Rolling onto my side, I grabbed my pink fuzzy slipper and shoved it under my head for a makeshift pillow. In the end, none of it mattered. I wanted nothing to do with Jace. He was blackened toast to me, unpalatable and leaving a bitter taste.

Snickering, I realized I must have lost my mind because I was beginning to find the situation amusing the more my brain cells became functional again. I sure as shit couldn't cry anymore, I didn't have a tear left in me, as attested to by the two empty tissue boxes on the floor.

Wondering what time it was, I reached up and felt around the coffee table for my phone. Locating it, I snatched the device and tapped the screen. I got nothing. Then it dawned on me that I'd shut it off last night because Jace had insisted on blowing it up. I turned it on and immediately dropped it. It was like my cell had a life of its own with its overture of buzzing and dinging. When the noise stopped, I looked at the display, floored by the number of missed calls from Jace, Adam, and Kendra.

Kendra!

Holy shit. I forgot about the barbeque.

Oh, well. It didn't matter. I couldn't have gone anyway. One look at me and everyone would have freaked out, especially my brother. I'd have to make up an excuse later. I had no idea what it would be, and right now, I didn't particularly care.

I closed my eyes, feeling myself drift off to sleep—until a knock sounded on my door.

"Not again," I moaned and rolled over, my face pressed against the bottom of the couch. "Whoever keeps knocking on my door can freaking go away." I tucked my cheek into the footbed of my slipper, ignoring the fuzz tickling my nose. Then I heard a key in my lock and my door opening.

"Shit!" a woman's voice shrieked.

I opened my left eye a crack, seeing Kendra rush toward me. She knelt on the floor.

"Oh, Della," Kendra wailed, her high-pitched tone reverberating in my head.

"Jeez, stop." I threw my hand out to curtail the painful racket. "You don't have to be so freaking loud." I grabbed the couch cushion and pulled myself into a sitting position.

Kendra gasped when she saw my gorgeous appearance in full view. "Oh, honey," she cried. She reached for me, and I pushed her hand away.

"Quit it. You don't have to smother me. I'm peachy."

"No, you're not. You look—"

"Like a beauty contestant."

"Lord, no. You look—"

"Like a monster?"

"Stop it, Della," Kendra snapped. "This isn't funny. You scared the shit out of us, and you look horrendous. My God, your eyes are barely open." Reaching over, she picked a wadded-up tissue from my hair and tossed it on the coffee table. "That's so gross."

I shrugged. "It's my new hairdo. Now spill it. Who isus, and how did you get in here? Wait. How'd you even get into my building?"

"It's a long story."

"Super. Then you can start explaining."

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