Page 70 of Terror Tuesday
She doesn’t even know I’m an open wound.
And here’s the truth I never wanted to face: I’ve fallen so fucking hard for her, I don’t want to be healed.
Squeaks penetrate my ears from the door handle. I snap my head toward it.
Shit.
I scramble, yanking my mask over my face by instinct—wrong move. Now I can’t see a damn thing.
“Open the fucking door!”
Fuck. The pounding is so loud, it resounds through my chest.
It’s the enforcer.
I curse, trip over a box, and crash face-first onto the carpet. Scrambling, breath jagged, I grab my Ruger from my nightstand, slam a loaded mag into place, and rack the slide. The sound echoes through the room like a warning shot. Flipping over onto my back, I aim it at the doorknob.
If they’re busting in—I’m ready.
“Open the fucking door, Val! Come on!”
“Fuck you! I’m armed!”
“Valen. It’s me.”The voice is lower now. Familiar. Cautious. “Put down the bong. I can smell it from the hall.”
Itsoundslike Apollo…
But they can fake voices. You can’t be sure.
“Freshman year,” the voice tries again. “Bonakanosstatue. Do I need to say more?”
“Yes!” I bark. “Prove it, asshole!”
A beat of silence. Then: “I don’t even remember his name. But his ass was already ready—” Speaking lower, I can hear him cringing through the wood. “Gimpma, Val.Gimpma.”
Oh… Itishim.
I rip the door open, smoke curling out behind me like fury unleashed. Apollo’s there. Oz beside him, already smirking like he’s seen too much.
“Fuck, man. You good?” He pushes past like he owns the place.
“No,” I mutter.
Apollo glides his hand over mine, not gently, and disarms me with an exasperated sigh.
“Don’t say shit. I’ve seen you act worse,” I grumble.
With deft hands, he slides the magazine out and pockets it, then unloads the chamber before handing the gun back. “Yeah, but you always did this for me. Here.”
Oz bounces over to the bong and packs it again for himself, squatting on my desk chair to take a hit. Coughing dramatically, he leans forward and slurps up a long strand of spit. “I forgot you like your shit hallucinogenic.”
I lock the door and pull off my mask, finally able to see.
“Fuck, Valen!”My stomach sinks as Apollo spies what’s on my screen. “That’s Olivia Cardell…” Both he and Oz stare at me like I’ve got a weapon pointed at their heads.
Oops. I lower the gun and toss it onto the bed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah? Like that’s a question…” Apollo scans the images carefully, then swings his attention back to me as he steps closer. “Do you know what you’re doing?”
