Page 79 of Nemesis

Slam.

Elora’s face floats in front of me.

Slam.

Artemis lifting her shirt, exposing her breast.

Slam.

Tattooing Elora, her pale white skin soft under my gloved hand.

Slam.

Going through the motions of tattooing Artemis, even though I have no ink. I’m just doing it to fuck with her. But she hasn’t mentioned it at all.

Slam.

Shoving her dress up, feeling irrationally angry that my body was reacting to hers.

Slam.

Nothing.

I breathe out raggedly, the pain from my chest now transferred to the back of my skull. I sag down the wall, nearly falling over. I catch myself on my forearm, then crawl toward the bathroom. I barely manage to get there before my stomach cramps, and the little I ate for breakfast comes back up.

From outside comes shouts, jeers.

Cheering.

Not the nice kind.

I drag myself to my feet and crash into the wall.Fuck, that hurt. I keep going to the front window, splitting the blinds to see the street.

Someone is being carried.

My brow furrows, and I lean forward more. The sun has mostly set, giving everything a twilight hue. It’s hard to pick out details, but I do see long brown hair caught up in a fist.

I yank open the door and stumble down the front steps, barely keeping myself upright.

Too many hits.

I somehow stay on my feet and push the gate open, calling to them, “Where’s the party, fellas?”

There are five of them. No, six.

One turns back to me. “Go home, bro.”

Anger stokes in my chest, and I glare at him. “Bro? We’re buddies now? I just want to know what kind of fun you’re having.”

“You’re drunk,” he says.

A brush-off.

He gives me his back, and I follow him. My head throbs, but it’s my own fucking doing. I hurry. My stride is uneven, the pitch of the sidewalk definitely not helping. And yet, I can’t let them take some girl with them?—

I reach out and clamp my hand down on the guy’s shoulder. The one who stopped to talk to me, who’s at the back of the pack.

They’re shit talking. Saying what a good catch they found.

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