Page 107 of Insatiable

I rush out of my room, nearly knocking Mum on her ass in the hallway.

“I was bringing these to your bathroom. Where are you going?”

“Um… I need to do something.”

She grabs my face with one hand. “Your eyes are bloodshot. Are you smoking again?”

“No,” I lie. “I just woke up.” I get to my feet. “I thought you were working today.”

“I was supposed to be. My patient, the little girl, died last night.” She gives me a tight smile. She’s exhausted. “Don’t look at me like that. Get going.”

I nod. “Sorry. Make sure you get some sleep. You look like shit.”

Mum narrows her eyes. “Leave, before I force you to clean the pool with me.”

When I go to turn, she says, “And,Kade? I knowEwanhas spoken to you about this before, but if you’re sleeping with her, please wear protection.”

I pale. “I don’t need to hear this from you. And I’m not sleeping with her, alright?”

“Then be patient with her. Stacey will be ready when she’s ready.”

I stop. “She’s the one being patient with me.”

Mum stares at me for a second, and then her lips part. “Oh.”

Yeah.Oh.

Everyone’s assumption that I sleep around is starting to piss me off. As if I’m not getting annoyed at myself for being a skittish prick when around her, I need to deal with my friends, and now my mother, thinking I’m fucking Stacey.

Wait.

“How do you know? Dad told you?”

She starts to walk away. “Your dad tells me everything. Now go. I’ll see you when you get home.”

Torrential rain pours as I drive away from the manor and out the gates, picking up speed when I reach the motorway. She hasn’t replied to my message yet, so I send another while I drive, asking if she’s home.

“Hi, you’re through to Stacey. Leave a message.”

I hang up and drive faster.

I head straight to the studio and get there within half an hour. The doors are locked, and I contemplate kicking them in to see if she’s inside.

I call again. No answer.

She might be asleep inside.

I knock on the door – three hard thumps. “Stacey? Are you in there?”

Nothing.

I go back to the car and light a cigarette, debating whether to askLuciellafor Stacey’s address so I can make sure she isn’t still walking home.

My heart feels weird. It’s the reaction I used to get as a kid, thinking one of my parents would catch me out on a lie or give me into trouble when I did something wrong. That uncertainty that something bad is coming.

I know what butterflies feel like, but this is different. I feel sick, as if I could throw open the car door and bring up my guts.

I’m dizzy, and IrealiseI’m breathing fast and hard.

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