Page 39 of Such A Filthy Girl

Calling through to her again, I watched as Graham walked out, slamming the door.

My stomach burned. The urge to trackGraham down and rip his spine through his fucking back calling to me.

Hanging up, I grazed a finger over Estella’s crumpled form on the screen.

Sweat pricked along my collar.

I couldn’t leave her alone and breaking.

Grace and Dad had already left for the airport to jet off to their ten-year minimoon. I couldn’t send Grace.

I had to go.

A quick search furnished me with a cab booking. Within twenty minutes, I stood at the threshold of my home, my pulse thundering at my throat.

The cab pulled up, the driver giving me a casual wave.

My inner turmoil meant nothing to the stranger.

That familiar wave of nausea washed over me, the weight of it pressing me back toward safety. I fought the urge to flee back up to me room.

Estella needs me.

That thought drove me to take one step forward, pulling the door closed behind me. I blinked through the blurry wave that hit me, locking the door to stop myself from slinking back through it in defeat.

Fire tore at my calves with every step toward the cab, my chest compressing my lungs, every breath more shallow than the last.

The car hazed up ahead, the ground rocking.

But I kept moving forward.

One foot after another.

Gravel shifted below me, feeling alien after the years since I’d stood anywhere but the solid floors of my home.

Not since I’d seen my mom bleed out all over the tiny stones right where I stood.

The memory had my legs quaking.

Just a few more steps.

The cab driver came out of the car, opening the back door for me with a quizzical look on his face.

‘You all right?’ He asked.

I nodded, sweat trickling down my forehead.

The leather interior accepted me as I tumbled into the car, breathing heavily. The driver ducked down, his brows knitting.

‘If you puke in here there’s a two hundred dollar charge.’

‘Just go,’ I muttered, closing my eyes.

If he didn’t take off, I’d be crawling back to my desk like a scared little rabbit.

The crunch of the tires had me clinging to the seat.

Prying the cover from my phone, I took out the aged, folded piece of lined paper I kept hidden there.

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