Page 9 of Jerk
Heat slaps my cheeks, a jolt rushing through me.
“He didn't! That’s different!” I’m surprised at my quick response, defending him when my father did the same. Dad was sloppy. Menacing. Ryung’s touch had control.Toomuch control.
My mother laughs. Not like I’m funny. Like I’m pathetic. “You’re no different.” She exits the room, leaving Carrie staring at me with the concern lacking from her.
“Miss Hannah, are you okay?” Carrie asks as I rise off the floor, the sting from my father’s strike still dancing on my skin. She's a small woman, shorter than the rest of my family, with a voice as quiet as her presence. “Do you need?—”
“I’m fine.” She reaches for me as I leave the room, but I pull away. “Clean this up. Fast, please.” I don’t need my father blaming my mother for anything else.
Once I'm back in my room, I collapse into my pink velvet chair in front of my vanity. Closing my eyes, I grip the edges, like if I squeeze hard enough, it will all go away. Like I’d forget this fight. Like I’d forget my parents need a fucking divorce.
Taking a deep breath, I try to remember what tonight has in store. A chance to remind people I've changed. Another breath and I lift my head, wincing when I see the damage. My cheeklooks like a cherry, bright and irritated. Leaning in closer, I hiss when my fingers graze my skin, a sharp burn coming with my touch.
“Don’t let it ruin your day, girl.” Today’s a big one, and glancing at the clock tells me I’m behind.
Brushing my robe off my shoulders, my eyes fall to the imaginary scar on my collar again.
“I call this one… ‘Mine.’”
His voice echoes in my head, his touch doing the same on my skin.
Why didn’t you stop him?
The chime from my phone helps shake me out of my daze, my head turning to it on my fluffy bed behind me. Texts from the Posse group chat light up the screen.
My stomach flutters with excitement as I pop over to my bed. Then it sinks, a knot tightening.
“You got to be kidding me,” I mutter, sitting up as I read their words.
Zurie: I’m sorry Hannah, I cant make it tn, but I know itll still be great! [yellow heart emoji]
Chloe: same
Marisol: sorry Hannah
Hell, even Marisol?
Hannah: Is something going on?
My back hits the soft mattress, the down duvet providing less comfort than usual. There has to be a good reason for them to miss such a big moment. But staring at the chat doesn’t give me an answer.
Hannah: Guys?
As I wait for an explanation, I reach for the closest distraction. QuickGram. The first video is a makeup tutorial with a trendy eyeshadow palette. The next, fashion inspiration on how to style a silk scarf. The third video on my feed makes me sit up. It’s from Marisol. Zurie and Chloe are in it, posing in front of Marisol’s massive mirror, dressed in black leather. My eyes narrow on the words on top of the video.
Ready for @CrimsonChamber tn.
Is this a joke? Crimson Chamber isn’t a place I’ve heard of and I know every spot in Paradise Hill. More notifications appear on my phone from my email. The one we set up for tonight’s event.
Subject: Tonight’s cancellation
Subject: Revoke RSVP
Subject: Unavailable
What the hell is going on?
Tapping the account in Marisol’s post brings me to a page that already has thousands of followers and only three posts. The images don’t show the venue, just stylized photos of BDSM equipment instead, and they’re all tagged with one account. @RyeReigns.
