Page 34 of Sensual Games

Did I have the fortitude to handle this? I didn’t have the first clue. A long, hot shower might help put things into perspective, not to mention at least eight hours of sleep. Maybe more. My level of exhaustion left me considering crawling into bed and sleeping until morning. Just then, I felt like I could pull that off easily.

What was I going to do? They weren’t taking care of her, not as well as they should’ve been. “I had to go so badly.” I could hear Mom’s voice in my head. The tremor in it, the embarrassed tears when she had to admit she couldn’t do something as simple as get herself to the bathroom without falling. “I pressed the call button so many times, but nobody came. I didn’t want to wet the bed and lie around in it.”

There wasn’t much I could say. I couldn’t exactly get on her case because she needed to use the bathroom. When I asked for answers from the staff, all I got was the same excuse. They were understaffed, they were doing the best they could, there were too many people in too many beds, and besides, they couldn’t come running for every little thing.

That choice of words still boiled my blood hours after hearing them.Couldn’t come running for every little thing.What was the point of a patient being there, then? That was what I would have asked, too, if I wasn’t so concerned about alienating the people in charge of keeping Mom safe. Then again, they weren’t keeping her safe, were they? Twice in one week, she felt compelled to get up and do something on her own because no one would help her. I asked myself again,What was the point of them?

Did it matter? The fact was, I didn’t have enough money put aside yet to afford anything better. Even when I scrimped and saved every spare penny, it wasn’t enough. I didn’t know when it would be. This was the best I could do for the time being.

I never felt so lost and hopeless. What was the point of anything?

In other words, I was in a low, dark place by the time I reached my front door and slid the key into one lock, then the second. I had packed a bag, so at least I was able to change my clothes while I was there, but I felt soiled and sticky after going two days without a shower.

I wasted no time after locking the door, kicking off my shoes, and taking off my clothes on the way to the bathroom. Not that it was a very long walk.

The first touch of steaming water against my skin was almost good enough to bring tears to my eyes. It took a situation like the one I’d faced over the weekend to remind me of the simple pleasures in life and how lucky I was to have them. Crossing my arms against the tile wall, I touched my forehead to them, letting the water run over my shoulders and back in an attempt to loosen them. They had been tight for days, and sleeping on a rock-hard couch all weekend played a big part.

By the time I left the shower after washing my hair three times to get rid of the odor that had soaked in—stale, sour, nasty—I slipped my robe on and wrapped a towel around my dripping hair. Somehow, it felt easier to face the world now, and Lord knew I needed all the help I could get. What did I need to do? How could I help her?

She wasn’t my only problem, either. I had kept my phone on silent over the weekend, wanting to give Mom a little peace and quiet where possible, but that didn’t mean I had missed the phone calls from Lucian. What was up his ass all of a sudden? He never left voicemails, either, so I had no idea why he was calling. Looking for a good time, maybe? If so, I was not the girl he wanted to talk to because I would not be a good time for anybody.

Now, pulling the phone from my bag, I found a new missed call had come in while I was scrubbing the pee smell out of my hair. Once again, no message. I shook my head with a sinking heart. Knowing him, all he wanted was to know why he couldn’t get his dick wet last week. To him, that was the biggest concern he had. He lived a charmed life otherwise.

One he decided to make my problem when out of nowhere, his voice rang out on the other side of my front door not three seconds after I sat on the bed. “Poison? I hear you in there. Open up.” He paired that with another knock, louder this time.

He had to be kidding, right? He wasn’t seriously here, disturbing what little peace I had left.

Maybe if I didn’t say anything, he’d give up. I picked up my phone and went back through my list of voicemails, but none of them were from him, and he never sent a text to tell me what was so important.

“I want to make sure you’re all right,” he called out. “You’re too type-A to go a whole weekend without returning a call. Let me know you’re okay.”

This was strange, even for him. So much so it got me off the bed and across the living room. I flipped open the chain across the door before opening it to find him scowling. “Finally,” he grunted out. “This is what it takes? I have to come all this way and make a goddamn jackass out of myself to get a response out of you?”

He looked good, but then he always did, though his scruffy cheeks and tousled hair weren’t nearly as important as the arrogant look he wore. “First of all, what gives you the right to demand a response in the first place?” I snapped. Was he serious? “Secondly, if it was so important to speak to me, why didn’t you leave a message and let me know what was on your mind? Am I a mind reader now?”

He probably wasn’t expecting me to spout off on him by the way his mouth fell open, his brows lifting in what looked like surprise. “I only wanted?—”

“You only wanted what?” I asked, cutting him off before he could continue pissing me off. “I hate to tell you this, but I’m not some chick you can call up at all hours whenever there’s an itch in your pants. I have a life. And I don’t owe you anything.”

“Maybe cut the nasty attitude, Poison,” he suggested, eyes going narrow. “I didn’t have to come all the way over here to make sure you were alive.”

“Oh, is that what you were doing?” I asked with a disbelieving laugh. “Thank you so much. Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to enjoy what is left of my weekend in peace.”

He craned his neck to look past me at the bag behind me, left on the floor, along with the T-shirt I was wearing when I got home. “Where were you?”

“Is there a problem with your hearing?” I genuinely could not believe this. “Where do you get off? If you had come here genuinely asking the way a friend would ask another friend if everything’s okay, that would be one thing. But no, you show up with this weird, possessive attitude and demand information. I’ve been through enough lately, all right? I don’t have it in me to handle you too.”

I tried to close the door, but of course, the idiot was too quick for me, placing his hand against it. It was irritating how little effort it seemed to take for him to deny me. “What have you been through?”

“Stop—”

“I’m asking as a friend, like you said. What have you been through? What happened? Talk to me, Poison,” he urged. “I’m already here, so you might as well do it.”

“You are so goddamn charming when you feel like it.” I was too tired to fight anymore, so I let go of the door and allowed him in. “I’ve had a really terrible weekend. I’ve had a terrible, oh, nine months, come to think of it. But this weekend topped them all.”

“How?” He came in, sizing up the room with a single glance, and I couldn’t help but remember how my apartment compared to his. Why did I let him in? What must he be thinking?

I swallowed back the flash of shame that raced through me before I could help it. There were no explanations needed, not to him or anybody else. I did the best I could with what I had.

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