Page 4 of Clinch'd

“I don't. I mean, I don't know them, but I think the one in charge was Frankie the Snake.”

“Who?” I ask, eyeing her suspiciously. Is she fucking off her meds again? Shit.

“Yes,” she says rudely, raising a brow. “He works for the mob. Don't you read the news?”

“No, it’s too fucking depressing. Why do you think it was him?” I ask, turning the key in the ignition and backing out of the spot.

“Because at the bar the other night, his name was on the list, and someone pointed him out to me.”

“What list?”

“I crashed a party I wasn't supposed to be at,” she says sullenly, looking away.

“Why? Where? Jesus, Lorri.”

“It was at Flight. And I had to sweet talk my way inside. It's not a big deal.”

But she’s avoiding my gaze. Fuck.

“What are you not telling me?”

“It’s nothing,” she insists, but I pull to the side of the road and give her a searing glare. “Fine. I had to use my ID to get into the party, and I borrowed your purse. And since I didn't have my ID…”

“You used mine?” I ask, staring at her blankly. She nods, dropping her gaze and it's only then the ramifications hit me. “They saw you back there?”

She nods.

“And if they bother to do any fucking digging, they’ll find my name on a fucking list for a party you weren’t…I wasn’t invited to?” I bark.

When she flushes and turns away, I pull back out onto the street, unsure if I should be completely freaked out, or just annoyed. With any luck, they didn’t recognize her from that party and it's a nonissue but if it's not...this could lead them directly to her and me. For fucks sake.

I hardly need the attention of the fucking mafia and Lorri…shit.

“When are you going to stop with the fucking bullshit,” I say, following the car in front of me onto the freeway blindly. I’m so fucking annoyed, my skin’s warm because once again, Lorri’s impulsive actions are going to have consequences and I’m tired of fixing things. I’m tired of stepping in and this time, it could be fucking deadly.

“Fuck off. It wouldn't be a big deal if I hadn't gone down that hall,” she mutters, crossing her arms like a five-year-old fucking child.

“Or if you hadn't fucked some stranger. Or if you hadn’t gone to a fucking party with mobsters...or—”

“Okay, I get it,” she shouts.

“When is enough, enough,” I yell.

“When the giant fucking hole in my chest goes away,” she says back, and I glance at her in surprise. “You think this is easy for me? You think because I was younger I don’t remember? Well, I remember enough. And I’m fucking fucked, because the only thing that makes the soul deep rage go away is pretending to be someone else for a fucking night.”

“Lorri,” I say softly.

“No,” she says, slashing her hand through the air. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

My heart thrums the entire way home and sadly I watch her stalk to her side of the room before pulling the makeshift curtain shut.

With a silent sigh, I close myself in the bathroom. I can’t take away what happened, but I had hoped since she was younger that maybe she didn’t remember it.

She’s never mentioned it before. Fuck.

Chapter 2

Cooper

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