Page 134 of Insatiable

“I never said that.”

“No,” I reply. “I’m asking you.”

Say yes.

Say fucking yes.

I don’t want her to be here if she doesn’t want to, but I also don’t want her to leave.

“You said you took something you shouldn’t have, and thought I’d paid to have sex with you.” Shaking her head, she adds, “I’ve never seen you like that. The Kade I knew hated drugs and never got himself into that kind of condition.”

“The Kade you knew died two years ago,” I tell her. “Forget about him.”

She chews on her lip. “He isn’t dead.”

I will be soon.

Or she will be.

I want to speak, but I’m frozen by how sad she looks.

“You scared me last night.”

She slips back into the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face, and I watch her through the crack in the door. She pauses and lowers her head as she holds the sink, takes a deep breath and comes back out.

“I have a spare toothbrush you can use, and your clothes should be ready soon. I had to put them into the cleaning service because they were covered in blood.”

Once I freshen up and take a piss, I notice she washed blood off me again – there’s a cloth soaked in blood in the trash.

I slip out the bathroom and try not to care that she’s still here.

She cheated on me. And it’s annoying me that I’m starting to ignore that fact.

My phone is off, thankfully, so no one can contact me. Barry would have made sure I can’t be traced here either.

Technically, I should be safe here.

“I’ll call an Uber in a while,” Stacey says, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s a bit early yet.”

“An Uber?”

Nodding, she says, “I can’t be here with you. I just booked another flight, but it’s in two days, so I’ll stay somewhere else until then.”

I don’t want her to leave. I kind of like having my phone out of battery, and being here…

With her.

I’m putting her in so much danger. Even though Bernadette shouldn’t be able to find me here, there’s still a chance, however small, that it could happen.

Then she’ll find Stacey. And keeping my ex off her radar will be fucked.

Bernie can’t find out about her, or what she means to me.

Meant.

“I’m too ill for you to leave,” I lie, dropping back onto the mattress. “Go later.” I take a bold chance by looking up and saying, “Come back to bed.”

Stacey stands from the edge of the bed and turns with wide eyes. “What? No. I can take the sofa.” She points at the small, definitely uncomfortable couch next to the window. “Go to sleep. I’ll call an Uber when you wake up.”

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