Page 62 of Fall onto me

She throws her head back. “I would have been once I got him in bed with me. He would have given in, once he realized that I’m such a better option for him. And now that he knows I’m rich, maybe he still will. That’s up to him.”

“Let me get something through your dumb fucking skull. It will never happen,” I hiss.

She takes a step closer. “Do you want me to hit you like your daddy does?”

Before I know what I’m doing, my fist has collided with her face and she drops to the ground, banging her head against the fender of her car. My stomach drops, having never done anything like that, but when she looks up at me with a bloody grin from the cut in her cheek leaking down, I can’t find it in myself to care.

Kate’s mouth is hung wide open, and Envy stands on wobbly legs. “I will fucking sue you!” she screams; it’s high-pitched and annoying.

There’s no time to second guess what I’ve done because the speaker just announced that we need to line up.

Kate jumps in with Ryder, I with Foster, and we take off.

Sitting at the starting line, I feel nervous. Foster just got out of trouble, and I don’t want to get in any. “You buckled up?” he asks.

I pull the seatbelt over and click it in just as Envy walks out into the middle of the dark street with a flag. She wasn’t racing tonight. “She’s gone back to being a flag girl,” Foster sneers, then narrows his eyes. “Is her face fucked up?”

She’s staring directly at me, and when I don’t respond to Foster, he looks at me. “Skyler.” He shakes his head, trying to hide the smile from his face. “Tell me you didn’t.”

She raises the flag all the way up, never taking her angry eyes from me, and not holding pressure to her wound that proceeds to drip, drip, drip down.

We take off when she puts the flag down, and for a split-second Foster has the opportunity to barrel though her, but no one will make us monsters.

We’re gone in a flash, leaving everyone else behind. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me? I don’t give a fuck about her.”

“I know, but she yelled that she would sue me.”

He laughs. “Let her try, I’ll drag her name through the fucking dirt.” He turns on the nitrous oxide as we zip around a curve. “Let’s win this thing, baby.”

As we pass the finish line, I roll down my window as we pass Envy, who is standing by her car and holding a rag to her face, surrounded by her friends.

While I don’t like violence, I don’t mind the blood that drips from it as she flips us off.

* * *

The harbor is eerilyempty tonight. Only the stragglers are left behind, rummaging from room to room to bargain their next sin.

It makes you wonder if their actions in life led them here, or if it’s by choice. As we pass the room of rich men, dangling bills in front of women, I look at their faces.

The women are young, vibrant, smiling from even the shadows of the room. The men are hungry, greedily eyeing them. As a beautiful blonde takes a hundred-dollar bill from a grey-haired man who probably has a wife and kids and power with his money, I realize he has no power here. These women are the stars of the show, running them and emptying their wallets before they leave. Smart. It’s not like they’ll go home and tell their wives what they were doing.

“I don’t like how quiet it is tonight,” I tell Foster as we round the narrow corridor into the long hall.

He nods in agreement but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he holds my hand tighter as we descend the dark stretch until we arrive at the door.

The television is already on when we walk in, an impatient Keeper waiting behind the screen.

Does he not show his face because he’s a public figure? Recognizable by anyone who watches the local news? Or is it more for secrecy, a rich man but smarter than the others in the rooms throwing money around? Is it someone we know?

He’s tapping his fingertips against his desk, and with everytap, tap, tap,I realize it matches the rhythm of my heart. Slow and nervous. It isn’t until the distorted voice bleeds through the speakers that my chest thunders, erratic and scared. “Hello.”

“We’re done, right? Why did you want me to come?” Foster gets to the point, showing the annoyance we feel with the flick of his tongue.

TK’s hand dips into the dim light, like he’s showcasing something. “There’s a drawer under the desk, pull it open.”

Foster hesitates, but I don’t. I step onto the worn-down carpet near the television, my heart pulsating with every movement, and grab the hidden drawer and pull it. The faster we get through, the sooner Foster is free.

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