Page 16 of The Cruelest Chaos
New Year’s Eve can do that sometimes. With my mother, it’s already a 50/50 shot.
She made sure to remind me of that when I was leaving and she realized I ate the last piece of bread. An end piece. It’s all I’ve eaten in the past forty-eight hours. This party had lots of alcohol. No food I could find.
What a waste of time.
But the Xanax helped me sleep. I didn’t take as much as I told him I did, but I didn’t want to talk to him, and itwasenough to knock me out for however long I’ve been sleeping in here.
Slowly, I slide to the edge of the bed. I realize it’s fucking huge and I have no idea why he’s so close to me. I don’t even know why he slept with me. He could’ve left me in the woods.
It’s strange he didn’t.
I keep wiggling over to the side, then swing my legs off the bed. I sit up, careful to move at a snail’s pace so the mattress doesn’t shift beneath my weight.
I wait a few seconds. He’s still breathing soft and slow, his wide lips still parted. They were soft against my skin. Even when he used his teeth. When I think about it, I want to dive back under the covers.
Curl up next to him. Wrap my arms around him.
That’s why I’ve got to get out of here. I feel my face flush with embarrassment for my fucking self.
I push those thoughts away, slide off the bed, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. My ankle doesn’t hurt, so I guess I didn’t really twist it. Small not-quite mercies. The pain would’ve kept my mind off the hunger.
I might have to leave my boots. I’m not stumbling around in the dark looking for them.
I glance down, thankful I’m still in my dress. I must’ve taken my jacket off in the night because I’m not wearing it now. I’ll have to leave it, but it’s North Carolina. Winter isn’t that cold here. In Berkeley, West Virginia where I was born, there’d be snow on the ground the whole season.
I’ll have to hitch a ride home, but it won’t be the first time I’ve ever done that.
I take one step on the hardwood, holding my breath, waiting for the floor to creak. Or my stomach to growl.
I need a goddamn job so I can buy Mom and I food, but I haven’t found one since our last move, despite my applications.
There might be ramen somewhere in the cabinet at home.
Maybe I’ll steal some food from this guy’s house. Natalie said it belonged to Atlas and his friends, and I guess Maverick is his friend.
This place is like a compound. He’s probably got more than enough food to spare, just not out on display for the party.
I take another step.
And another.
I start scoping out the door, gauging just how loud it might be when I open it.
But then I hear a voice at my back, groggy with sleep. “Going somewhere?”
I freeze.
I know I can leave. I know he can’t keep me here. I know that, despite the fact he indulged me in helping me get my mom’s screams out of my head last night, he’s not going to tie me to the bed and make me stay here.
But maybe I want him to.
I close my eyes. Think back to brushing out the horses Tuesday at The Ark. Letting go. That’s what Marnie, my therapist, tried to help me with then. Letting go.
I let the thought go. “Yeah,” I say quietly in the dark, “I’m leaving.”
“It’s three a.m.”
That’s surprises me, but I say nothing. It’s only been a few hours. I guess it might be harder to get a ride at this time of night. Not without paying for it. But I could make some money that way, too.
