Page 42 of Cruel Charming Psychos (Necessary Evils 2)

Nick laughs too. “Yeah, well Mother isn’t going to be so happy with her friend when she finds out what she did.”

Emily rolls her eyes. “Have you ever seen her happy with anyone? It’s like she lives in a permanent state of coldness.” She takes a look around the room and shrugs with apathy. “It’s not the worst digs in the world.”

“I know you probably want to be left alone,” I say, “but due to recent events, we don’t think that’s a good idea. Nick is going to stay here with you.”

“What if I want you to stay too?”

“If that’s what you want, then I’ll be right here by your side.”

Nick’s phone rings. He retrieves it from his pocket. “Okay, I’ll be right back. I have to take a phone call for real this time.”

“I’m surprised our phones still work,” Emily says. “How long do you think it’ll be before they shut them off?”

“Trust me, they’re not going to even think about the phones. They have so much other shit to worry about right now.”

Emily’s eyes wander until they rest on my forearm that’s covered by a long sleeve shirt. She reaches for my sleeve and pushes it upwards, exposing the scars on my wrists. She smiles as she stretches out her own arm, offering her freshly stitched wounds for display. “Look, now we have matching battle wounds.”

I pull my sleeve back down and force a half-assed smile. “We have enough scars on our hearts and souls. We don’t need them etched into our skin. I’m not proud of these markings.”

“You should be. They’re proof you survived your worst days.”

“I’m afraid those days are still ahead, just on the horizon.”

ChapterNineteen

ADDISON

I’ve never been one to be able to easily discern the truth from the bullshit. It used to be that it didn’t matter, that I believed whatever I needed to believe in order to survive one day into the next. Lately, the truth has become a luxury I’m unable to afford to ignore, as if my apathy to candor could swing the pendulum of fate.

As I made my way to the motel my mother and I have been holed up in since Emily burned our house to the ground, I couldn’t shake the idea that Nick’s mom was telling the truth about the money my father left behind. She’s not known for the truth, but neither is my mother. At the end of the day, it’s the least of my concerns. After all, what difference does it make if my mother ends up being slightly worse than I ever thought she was? It wouldn’t change anything. I would confront her, and she would lie at first, and then deflect before ultimately shifting the blame to me. It would end in a screaming match that I don’t have the time for.

Not when there are more important things to worry about.

The plan is simple enough. Get Emily somewhere her parents can’t find her and then make one last appearance in the Hamptons before escaping into the sunset in search of a better life. Anywhere else has to be better than this. Anywhere but here. I don’t know what will become of Nick and me. Sometimes, it feels like there’s too much trauma shared between the both of us that it can never work the way it should. Sometimes, it feels like we’re running into the fire when we should be running separate ways.

But I’ve always run straight into the fire. I guess I like the way it burns.

I rip the keys from the ignition before climbing out of the car. My boots crunch against the gravel as I make my way to the exterior door of the motel.

The first thing I see when I step inside is my mother standing between the two queen beds with a cigarette in hand. It’s like she’s been waiting for me to arrive. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever,” she says as she exhales a cloud of smoke.

“I’m just here to grab a few things.”

She nods as she takes another drag, but her gaze doesn’t leave me as I grab a duffel bag from the closet and begin emptying out drawers. Thankfully, there’s not much to grab.

She snuffs the cigarette out into an ash-stained glass ashtray. “I see what’s going on here.”

“Congratulations,” I say deadpan. “You have eyes.”

Then, she grabs me by the wrist and twists; a stronger grip than I’d ever give her credit for. I shoot my gaze upwards to meet her halfway before shaking her off me.

“Where are you running off to this time?”

“Anywhere but here.” I zip the top of the black leather duffel and toss the strap over one shoulder. “If it feels like I’m disappearing again, then that’s correct. This time, I’m giving you the decency of saying goodbye even if I’m not quite sure you deserve it.”

“You sure know how to make your mother feel special.”

Every fiber in my body yearns to confront her about what Nick’s mother said, but do I really have the luxury of time? A question is never a question with my mother. A question is only ever answered in half-truths and vitriolic confrontations that turn into a bloodless battle to the death. I twist on my feet, prepared to run but I can’t bring myself to do it.

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