Page 18 of Taste of Addiction

“She said that you were ‘huffy and puffy’ with her in the kitchen when she first arrived and were nasty when she asked you a question. Said she was very concerned over you and was just trying to be friendly.”

“And you believed her?”

“I know how you get jealous—”

I end the call. Nope. Not a chance in hell am I dealing with this right now. He didn’t give me a chance to explain, and his hostility toward my apparent attitude is annoying. I never even had a bad attitude. But, if anyone deserves to have one right now, it is me. I am so over this place that I feel like the walls are going to close in and suffocate me.

My iPad buzzes with an incoming video call. My phone vibrates with a phone call and several text messages pop up on the screen. I ignore everything. He can spend the rest of the day coming up with a good apology. I don’t care to hear from him until he can say he is sorry. How can he just take Sophia’s word at face value? What kind of hold does she have on him still? And the nerve of her to even fabricate such lies. She was the one attacking me with her snide comments about me trying to hurt myself for attention in front of his building. I growl to myself as I throw on a jacket and shove my feet into sneakers without even bothering to untie them. My hair is still damp from the bath, and the nap only added to its wayward volume. I slide on a red knitted hat with a big pom-pom ball of fluff sewed into the top.

I stomp out of my room and work my way through a path to the nearest exit. Collins catches me at the bottom of the stairs and has his phone up to his ear—probably getting an earful from Big Boss Man. I push right past him and ignore his directives to stop. I unlock the series of deadbolts from the front door and turn the knob. Buzzers blare since I do not bother to put in the code on the keypad, but I just walk out into the fresh air with Collins at my heels.

“Miss McFee, stop. Please.”

“No,” I say, not even turning back. “I just want to go for a walk. Please leave me alone. Today’s not the day to mess with me. This is your one warning.”

I feel his presence shadowing me, but he resists the need to carry on with his talking, for which I am glad. I do not want to talk to anyone right now. Everyone can just leave me the hell alone. And if Sophia has half a brain, she will hide somewhere and not show her face to me for the rest of today. I am not sure I am capable of exercising any self-control.

I walk along the perimeter of the house and find the stone walkway that leads to the back. I veer off and make my own path through the woods when I come across a field. I plop down in the grass and lie back to stare up at the sky. The earth is cold and unforgiving. The clouds refuse to part to make way for the sun and look like they could burst out in tears at any moment.I know the feeling.

I don’t see Collins or even sense his presence. I know he is watching somewhere, but he is at least respecting my need for the illusion of privacy. I close my eyes and welcome the cold breeze that whips along my neck and exposed skin of my face and hands. I block out all of my thoughts and just revel in the calm serenity of being still.

And I breathe.

I just simply breathe.

Drifting in and out of my awake-and-sleep cycle, I allow my mind to empty. I turn on my side and feel the first droplets of water falling gracefully from the sky. For a second, I think they are my own. I look up and see the rolling gray clouds. Time to haul my butt back into the prison. I am barely to my feet when it starts to pour. I whip around and search for the opening to the patch of trees that border the house when I spot Collins running my way.

“Miss McFee, we’ve got to go now,” he says, grabbing my elbow and guiding me back the way I came.

“You’ve been out here the entire time?” I ask, out of breath from the jog we are on, trying to get back before we are both entirely soaked.

“All two hours, yes.”

Wow. Two hours? My skin is cold and my body aches from lying on the ground. It doesn’t take us long to get to the main door, but by the time we do, I am drenched. My sneakers slosh out water with each step, and I kick them off outside and leave them there on the doormat to dry. Their newness is now covered in mud and pine needles.

I toe off my socks inside and hang up my jacket on the hook near the door. My red hat follows. I fluff out my matted damp hair, trying to spark life back into it.

“Sorry you had to stay out there so long. I just needed to clear my head.”

“I understand, ma’am. Please call Mr. Hoffman. He’s been worried about you since you left the house, and there is only so much I can relay over text.”

I nod but only to appease him. “Okay.” There is no way I am calling Graham back. He can deal with the limited information supplied to him with the safety reports. I am pissed at him. And I have no intention of trying to get unpissed.

“My shift ends soon, so if you need anything before I leave, let me know.”

“Thank you, Collins.”

I march back up the stairs and find my room at the end of the hall. I peel off my damp clothes and hop into the steamy shower just to warm up my body. It feels like the coldness goes deep to my bones. I dry off and decide that it is never too early for pajamas. I select a soft cotton pair from the stash that is just a solid lavender color.

My stomach sends me another reminder to feed it. I haven’t had anything to eat since my morning bath when I nibbled at fruit, and it has to be dinner time or later by now. I slide into a pair of fuzzy black slippers and go off in search of food.

The kitchen is fully stocked with all the ingredients to make a salad, a sandwich, or soup. It is six thirty and there is no sign of life in the house. I pull out a loaf of bread, the pimento cheese spread, and the already prepared bowl of salad mix. I use the toaster oven to toast two slices of bread and then smear on a thick layer of cheese spread. I add a balsamic vinaigrette dressing to my side salad and decide to eat at the dining table that is surrounded by windows. I move about the kitchen gathering utensils and a napkin when I bump into something.

“Ouch! Watch yourself.”

I look up in confusion at Barbie Bitch. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Well, I live here too now. So get used to having to share the space. It is as much mine as it is yours.”

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