Page 101 of My Girl
“Okay, I won’t,” he says softly. “Please don’t cry.”
The clock ticks in the kitchen. It’s past nine now. I missed my bus.
I need to go. I need distance from this. From Pahrump. From Crave. I need space to figure out where I fit in. If shared blood means anything to me.
To us.
“Can you drive me to Vegas?” I ask.
Ned kisses the top of my head. “Of course I can,” he says. “I’ll do anything for you, beautiful.”
Ned helps me into my room and even stuffs different outfits into a duffel bag. When the police come to investigate the gunshot, Ned lies to them, protecting me from their questions and from making thisthingwith Officer Gaines any bigger. After that, I get him a pack of frozen peas from the freezer. He holds it to his face and beams at me like he wants to give me the world. Maybe he does.
I should feel safe. Loved. Protected. Cherished. I should feel satisfied by a man like Ned, but I don’t. Not even a little. Doing the right thing matters more to Ned than I do, and that’s how it will always be. I’ll always matter less.
Ned will never possess me like Crave does.
Chapter31
Crave
I consider goingto the Galloway House and staying in the basement until she returns. I think about hunting humans out in the desert. Finding another lucky set of hikers. All of it bores me.
Four days pass like that.
Eventually, I head to Las Vegas. I tell myself it’s because I need the money; I can’t show up at the mall anymore. But it’s not about paying rent.
I drive the taxi up and down Las Vegas Boulevard, taking drunks to late-night diners. Business types to the right conference centers. Party girls to the hottest nightclubs. My mind mixes those flashing signs until all I see is her.
Wouldn’t it be beautiful to see Rae die?
To force her to watchmedie?
To make her kill me?
To have all of this end?
A few women in matching sequin dresses wave at me from the Cosmopolitan’s ramp. They squeal at each other as they pile into the back of my car. One of them plays a pop song on her phone. They sing off-key and at the top of their lungs. They’re unbelievably annoying.
You should kill them,Rae’s voice says in my mind.They have no purpose in this world.
I lick my teeth, glancing at the women in the mirror. A blonde. A brunette. Another with an ombre hairstyle.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I say in a low voice.
Of course I would,Rae says in my mind. I picture her sitting in the backseat of the taxi, smashed in between the sequined women. Rae’s mischievous laughter echoes:I want to watch what you do to them, then I want you to fuck me on their dead bodies.
“You’re a depraved little slut,” I say, locking eyes with the imaginary Rae in the rearview mirror.
“Huh?” one of the passengers asks. “Did you say something?”
“Did you just call me a slut?”
“Where are we going again?”
“You’re heading to the Linq, right?” I ask.
“Happy Half Hour!”
