Page 93 of Don't You Pucking Dare

She turns around fully now, knees on the passenger seat. Her eyes are wild, pupils blown wide. "You don't know the promises I made. I’ve been waiting for that motherfucker to die!"

The boyfriend takes another turn too fast. Trees replace buildings outside the window. We're heading out of town.

I’ve had many instances where I had to remain calm, be the cool one, or she’ll lose her goddamn mind. Right now it’s notany different from when she was getting high. I need to keep my composure.

"Okay, what kind of promises?" My hand touches the bank card in my pocket. I could give it to her, tell her the PIN, and get this over with. Let her waste it on drugs.

"Don't even pretend you're willing to help me now, Lola." Her laugh comes out sharp, hysteric. "I know you... you don't give a shit about me."

"Mom..." The word catches in my throat. That hurts. I visited her every week. Of course I give a shit about her. Through the windshield, I can see we're heading toward the state forest. "People are going to notice that I'm gone."

"Let them call the cops." She runs her hands through her hair, messing up the careful styling from earlier. The mask is completely gone now. "I need that fucking money, Lola, and if you’re not going to give it to me willingly, then I need to beat it out of you."

The way she says need makes my skin crawl. This isn't about greed. This is about survival—hers, maybe mine. The letter in my pocket feels heavier with each mile marker we pass. She needs drugs. She needs men. She never needed me, she only needed the leverage she could from me. I’ve never known anyone more fucking selfish.

I hold up the card. "You want this, mom? You want this that fucking bad? It’s yours."

She reaches for it, but I pull it out of her reach.

"Then tell me what the fuck you’re going to do with the money!" I demand.

"It’s not your money, Lola! It’s mine!" She lunges over the seats, pulling my hair. Little does she know that I endured some torturing by my boyfriend, and I can take a hit. She tugs my head closer to her, shouting at me.

"Let me go!" I scream.

"Give me the fucking card!"

Her boyfriend reaches his hand to my face. He finds my neck and starts squeezing as I flail around, trying to hit him. His hold is strong, so now I’m pulling at his wrist, trying not to pass out. But I can’t fucking breath.

I have no strength to keep fighting, and my world turns black.

Chapter 38

Practice runs late because Coach is riding our asses about the weekend game. The whole Ravens team is feeling the pressure, and Coach isn't letting up. Thatcher won't shut up about the Halloween party, already planning some elaborate shit with the other guys.

"You coming?" he asks, stripping off his gear.

I nod, already thinking about Lola in whatever costume she chooses. "Yeah, we'll be there."

My girl. The words still feel new in my head. Not just stolen moments anymore—she's actually mine now. The kind of crazy that matches my own, the darkness I've been looking for.

Campus is quieter in the afternoon. I sit through my classes thinking about her dorm room, about dinner, about after. My phone's been quiet all day, but that's normal when she's got practice.

The sun's setting when I head to her building, casting long shadows across the quad. Music drifts from the practice rooms—someone butchering Tchaikovsky. Not Lola though. I'd know her playing anywhere.

When I push open her door, Kiah is sprawled on her bed, textbooks everywhere.

"Can't you knock?" She doesn't even look up from her phone.

I scan the room. Lola's cello case is propped in its usual corner, but something feels off. "Where's Lola?"

"As if I know." Kiah rolls her eyes. "You should know."

"You haven't seen her?"

She finally looks up, frowning. "No. Not since this morning. Why?"

I ignore her, pulling out my phone as I turn to leave. Straight to voicemail. The recorded message of her voice makes my pulse spike.

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