Page 49 of Getting It Twisted

Under Gillian’s watchful, icy blue gaze, I walk up to Jessie and ruffle her hair. “It’s okay, little Jess. I’ll catch up with you later.”

Once we’ve packed ourselves into his car, Daniel clenches his hands around the steering wheel. “Sorry about that.”

I shrug. “Whatever.”

“No, it’s not whatever. She shouldn’t treat you like that.”

“I’m used to it.” I send him a tired smile. “You’re the only one who can stand me.”

“That’s . . . not true.”

“I sure don’t know of anyone else who can.” My tone is light, but something burns at the back of my throat as I say it.

“Jessie likes you.”

“Jessie likes everyone.”

“Not everyone.”

I don’t have to ask; he’ll spill it anyway if I’m quiet for long enough.

“My uncle,” he mutters. “She doesn’t like my uncle.”

I grin and cross my arms, leaning back in the seat. “Who does?”

We spend the rest of the ride in silence. Dark patches of trees and a dreary, cloud-covered sky greet us at Wayward Road, and as the car rolls to a stop, Daniel turns to me.

“I have work in the morning. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Try to stay out of trouble until then.”

A sick, nervous feeling surges up in my chest. Part of me wants to kiss him. Part of me doesn’t want him to leave at all. But when I glance over, his gaze is too guarded, his mouth a tense line.

I get out and watch him drive away. My hands clench in my pockets, and as the nervousness recedes, a great emptiness replaces it.

Why? I’ve got everything all sorted out. Daniel promised he’ll come here and rail the shit out of me at my convenience. Only . . . I don’t think that’s all he wants.

He wants what lonely people trap themselves into so they can get a consistent fuck.

He wants a relationship.

A boyfriend.

Love.

Pleasure is easy to understand and easy to forget about. I know how to take a man to heaven in three minutes flat. But this? I haven’t got a clue.

I’m fucked. Completely and utterly fucked, in all the wrong ways.

The sky reaches above me, black and moonless. Smoke and pollution from the nearby factories drift over these lands. Perhaps that’s what poisons the minds of the people out here. Perhaps that’s why my mother was such a crazy bitch. Perhaps that’s why I am the way I am.

I exhale a cloud of smoke and lean back on the patio bench. The effects of the weed tingle into my fingertips and make me feel light and heavy at the same time. Dizzy. Weightless.

It’s eight in the evening the next day. Daniel told me he’d come after work, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Maybe George has finally convinced him of what a bad seed I am.

Ennis’s dog barks in the distance. The sound echoes in my ears and seems to go on forever. I lean back and let it take over my mind for a while, annoying as it is. It’s better than what’s moving in there on its own.

Sometime later, Jagger barks again, closer than before. Back when my mom was around and that dog came within ten yards of our house, she used to yell and wave her off. Once, she’d riled the dog up so bad Ennis had to come hobbling to calm both of them down.

Theresa tended to make even the kindest, most docile creatures lose their minds. And I’m not kind; I’m rotten, so the effect she had on me is no surprise.

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