Page 8 of Echoes of Nevermore
“I’m going to stay here with Rizzo, you go ahead and get a feel for the place,” Scott tells me almost as soon as we’re inside, nodding to the guy who greeted us.
“Rizzo’s the name, and…” he pauses, shifting his gaze toward Scott and then rapidly back to my face. He abruptly clears his throat, and I arch an eyebrow in response. What’s going on? Is he choking on air? I watch him cautiously for a moment. His breathing seems fine, and he’s not smacking his chest with his palm like a person would as they try to dislodge something from their throat. So, that’s a big fat no. He isn’t choking, he’s ok. My eyes zip to where his has been, wondering if there is a reason for him doing this, or if I’m making something out of nothing.
Scott hasn’t said anything or even shown an iota of concern for his cousin. I don’t know how close they are, but given we’re at his house, I find that odd for anyone. Scott is clueless; his eyes are busy scanning across the room. His sights zero in on a redhead in a skin-tight beer wench outfit that has her tits spilling out of the top.
Rizzo clears his throat louder this time, grinding his teeth together afterward, and then runs his hand through his long hair. Ah. There is a reason, Rizzo must be trying to get Scott’s attention, probably warning him that I see his ass being disrespectful and oggling her tits.
“So, uh, as I was saying, the name is Rizzo.”
“Star.”
He lifts my hand, kissing the back of it, and nods his head. “Enchanté.”
I smile purely out of courtesy for him. I try to ignore Scott gawking at the other girl, but this is getting embarrassing. I widen my eyes, glaring at Scott briefly, then back to Rizzo. I hope he isn’t as big of a dumbass as his cousin is and doesn’t say or do something out of pocket. We just met, but my bullshit filter had already broken before we arrived. I don’t think I can handle any more stress tonight.
Rizzo combs through his hair with his fingertips, gathering it into his hand, and then flips a pink hair tie off his wrist onto his ponytail. “Yeah, so, Star. You must be this idiot’s better half, huh? His words are soft at first and then grow louder toward the end of his statement.
This gets Scott’s attention. His focus darts off the redhead and onto my face quickly. He slyly smiles. He probably thinks I don’t notice where his eyes linger.
“You’re staying here, with Rizzo?” I repeat his words in a knowing tone, wondering if he’ll lie or be honest. My money is on the first choice.
“Yeah. Mmhmm. I am. Whatever you say.” He absentmindedly nods, looking past me and into the crowd.
I’m not an idiot. As soon as I’m out of sight, Scott will fly across this room and be shooting his shot with big boobs Magee. I saw the way he watched her with his eyes full of hunger. It’s the way he used to look at me, and back then, I lived for that feeling. Now, I wouldn’t split a single kernel of corn with him or his hungry eyes. They can both starve to death as far as it concerns me. Though I know I should be, I’m not hurt. There isn’t an ounce of jealousy in what I’m feeling right now. Disgust and spite…those are different monsters altogether, and they’re surging through my body at an overwhelming pace.
I’m staring daggers at Scott, tapping my foot as I count how long it takes him to realize I’m onto him.
“Erm, like I asked. Are you the lucky lady marrying Scotty boy?” Rizzo asks in an uneven tone, taking his hair in his grasp again, twisting it into a bun, and securing it just above the nape of his neck. This guy's hands are in his hair a lot. Maybe it’s a nervous tic. Who knows?
“Yeah, no. I’m definitely not marrying Scott.” I admit without a hint of remorse.
“You aren’t?” They both say a beat out of time of it being in unison.
“Not now.
Not ever.
Not in a million years or another lifetime.”
Neither of them speak, but Scott chews on the inside of his cheek, irritation practically rolling off him. He’s trying to stay calm because we’re in public. I was right to wait and not break things off while we were alone in the car.
I shrug. My fingers curl around the engagement ring that I’ve worn for far too long, and I yank it over my knuckle so fast that my skin stings. Using my left hand, I open Scott’s fingers, smacking the ring into his palm. “So, no, to answer your question, I’m not marrying him. I’m not anything to him; I’d rather spend the rest of my life behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit.”
“C’mon, Star. Don’t be like that. Is this about the redhead? I wasn’t gonna do anything. I was just admiring her earrings.”
Lie.
“Unless earrings are a code word for tits, you’re full of shit.”
“I’m sorry, okay?”
Another lie.
“Stop!” I cut him off before another damned lie leaves his mouth. “Just fucking stop, would you? This isn’t about her, it’s about the fact that you’re an inconsiderate, narcissistic asshole. Oh, and add that on top of the fact that you have a microscopic cock, and you couldn’t give me an orgasm. EVER! Get your shit out of my house and get the hell out of my life!” I’m screaming by the end of my rant, and every set of eyes around us is on me.
“Star,” he repeats my name in a pitiful tone, and reaches his hand out to grab me.
A sadistic laugh boils out of me as blind rage rips apart every bit of rationality I have left. I swat his hand away and then ball my hands into fists. I lock my elbows in place and stiffen my arms at my sides to stop myself from shoving him on his ass.
