Page 91 of Property of Necro
The real bed.
I hate.
Watching anyone but Mama cook.
I hate.
I haven’t touched a book since I got back. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to read again without thinking of them.
More than anything… I’m just sad.
I’ve never failed a job before, and even if this wasn’t technically a job, I still feel like an epic failure.
On the drive back, I didn’t even have the energy to yell at Dark for lying in the first place. I didn’t say a word to him, and I don’t plan to.
He’s dead to me.
And I’m dead to myself.
A touch dramatic? Probably. But ask me if I care. I don’t.
Twirling the umbrella around in my glass, ice clinks against the side.
Till waves her hand in front of my face. “Earth to Sola.”
She must have been speaking to me, but I don’t care.
I have nothing much to say anyhow.
What is there to say?
The door to the bar opens, and in floats the summer breeze and, with it, the scent of sage. It tingles my nose as the only person who ever smells like that claims the stool beside me.
Kali.
Her long boho skirt brushes the outside of my leg as she settles on the seat and orders a glass of red wine.
“I have a job for you,” she sings, far too chipper for my foul mood.
“No.”
“Sola.” Her motherly tone sets my teeth on edge.
“I said. No.” No more jobs. No more… any of it.
“You don’t even know what it is yet.”
Yeah, and I don’t care.
“The answer is still no. I’m done doing jobs for the club.” I’m tired of being used.
“But you like helping people. You’re a sister. That’s what we do.”
“I know.” I nod, voice low, staring into the pink abyss of my drink. “And I’m grateful, I am. For everything you’ve done for me. For giving me a place to stay and helping me get back on my feet after everything. But I can’t do it anymore.”
Kali pats my shoulder. “Hey. That’s okay. You’re always welcome here. Till can teach you to bartend.”
“I don’t want to bartend.”
