Page 185 of Pretty Little Lies

“Enjoy the rest of your day, Viv. Feel free to tell everyone that the red marks on your neck are because I fucked the shit out of you. I’m sure you’ve already been feeding everyone a load of bullshit. It’ll keep with the theme so when you suddenly disappear it’ll be easy to make it look like I’m devastated and that I give a flying fuck.”

Releasing her, I go and join my boys to go over what I learned.

My ex-girlfriend is a cunt, that’s old news.

But she’s one with some shit on us.

FIFTY-TWO

bay

I’m tired.

My brain won’t shut down. My guilt won’t stop eating me alive with all the things I’ve done with zero thought on the consequences afterward.

I’m losing our home.

So, where is Dad going to go when he is released from the hospital? Where are my sisters going to live, where they are safe and taken care of? How am I going to find us a place in thirty days that’s not a complete shithole?

Dad’s Nova rumbles under my fingers as I do my fourth burnout of the night, listening to the tires angrily screech against the wet pavement. With it, I release all my rage on the happenings over the course of twenty-four hours to make themselves heard.

I need cash and I fucking need that shit fast.

The deep rumble of the Impala next to me alludes that it’s lining up, waiting on Nessa to flick her flashlight so we can start the race and I can blow this fucker out of the water.

My eyes flick to Nessa, already watching me and waiting for the moment when she’s going to give the proverbial green light.

I nod, and she returns the gesture, aware from earlier that I’m not in the mood for bullshit. That I just want to get this night over and have wads of twenties and hundreds in the back of my jean pocket.

My phone buzzes on cue then; however, I’m too fucked up on worry to care.

It could be Travis telling me that his dad is on his way to break up on improv drag race, but I can get out of here before that happens. I’ve gotten away from Sheriff Muncy before, outdriving him isn’t going to be an issue I’m going to have a hard time getting out of.

The white light of Nessa’s flashlight flicks on, and I pull the trans brake before the front end of my car lifts before getting caught by the wheelie bars in the back and forcing my tires to the cement.

The Nova has no problems out of the hole, sprinting toward the end of the road when the Impala has other ideas.

It begins to squirrel into my lane.

I’m not even able to get my foot off the gas before the front-end knocks into my fender. My Dad’s piece of art—the car he loves with his whole being—loses its traction and spins.

I have it.

I’ve spun out before and saved the car with no problem, but the motherfucker I’m racing with hits meagain.

Dad’s car instantaneously flips and all I can think about is how many times the unforgiving concrete is scratching the paint? How far this is going to put me back and did it just take me out of the other races for tonight?

My head hits something hard, causing a gasp to leave my lips as the car still spins in nauseous circles, slamming again and again into the ground.

This thing better not fucking start on fire.

What a stupid ass thing to think about.

Mae. Ellie. Dad. I need to stay alive for them.

They need me.

But what good am I even alive? I lost our home over a two-minute makeout session with a dude who can’t even stand me.

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