Page 66 of Overdose
She storms toward me like she’s ready to rip me in half. Fire in her steps. Fury in her throat.
“What, are you seriously stalking me now?” she spits. “Didn’t get your way, so now you’re lurking around my motel like some obsessed psycho?”
“Stalking? No—fuck, I wasn’t?—”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not. I swear?—”
“Right, 'cause you’re so honest,” she snarls. “You’d never keep shit from me, right? Never twist it all until I can’t tell what’s real?”
“Blair, listen?—”
“FUCK YOU,” she screams, voice cracking under the weight of it. “I know everything, Noir. I knoweverything.”
She jabs her finger into my chest like she wants it to punch through.
“I know you knew her. I know you werewithher. That you fuckingliedto me. Abouteverything.”
Her breath’s coming hard now. Shaking. Wild. But it’s not grief—it’s fury. The kind that burns straight through your lungs.
“You fucked me. Lied to my fucking face. You pretended I was just some girl you met at a party that you actually liked. You made me feel like—like you actually gave a shit about me. But you never did. No, you just saw my sister when you were with me. Touching me. Nothing but lies the whole fucking time.”
I freeze. Like something just got knocked loose in my chest.
My lips part. No words come.
I try to speak, but she cuts me off before I can even catch a breath.
“You fucking used me!” she snaps. “You used me in this sick little war you’ve got going with Dagger. Like I was nothing but a pawn. Like I wasn’t even real to you, just the shell of the girl you fucking lost.”
Something hot and sharp detonates in my gut.
“I used you? Oh that's fucking rich. You think he’s the good guy in this?” I growl. “You think Dagger’s some fucking saint? That he didn’t fucking lie to you? That he didn’t sell her the same shit he sells you? He’s the fucking reason she’s dead!”
She smirks. That kind of smirk that’s all hurt and venom. Kissed teeth. Red-rimmed eyes. Tears streaming down her face but still full of fire.
“God, you’re fucking stupid,” she hisses. “He might not have wanted her the way you did, but he cared. He cut her off when he saw what it was doing to her. He told her no. Tried to stop her from going deeper.”
“No—”
“But that’s typical fucking Brynn, right?” she snaps, voice sharp enough to cut. “Wouldn’t take no for an answer. She stole his goddamn phone, Noir. Went behind his back. Hit up his contacts like she was invincible. She got herself in that deep because she couldn’t stop. Not for him. Not for me. Not even for herself.”
She laughs, bitter and shaking. “But you know what really pisses me off? From what I hear, there was one person—one fucking person—who maybe could’ve pulled her out of that spiral. Just one. And where the fuck was he?” Her eyes burn. “Nowhere. He was such a bitch, he couldn’t be fucking bothered.”
Her voice is shaking now, but every word lands like a slap.
“So now, Dagger may not be a fucking saint, but he didn’t kill her. She did that to herself. And you—you needed someone to blame, so you picked him.”
It hits like a punch. Sudden, and brutal. I can’t breathe.
Fuck.
I stagger back a step, something jagged tearing open in my chest. My hands twitch at my sides like they’re looking for something to hold onto, but there’s nothing but air and consequences.
I see Brynn but not the way I want to remember her. Not the flirty smirk or the neon-slicked skin or the way she used to dance like her body belonged to the bass. I see her twitching. Sweating. Nodding off mid-sentence. I see the glassy look in her eyes when she swore she was fine, when I knew damn well she wasn’t.
And underneath that, I see my mother.
