Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 815(@200wpm)___ 652(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
He’s a nobody.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice losing the bite from earlier.
“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just having an awesome party with all the girls I fucked, which is a lot, by the way. Marcus who? Don’t know him.”
“You sound different.”
I chuckle, but even that takes too much energy. “I’m just high.”
“Where are you?”
“Are you gonna come find me? Wow. I’m so touched, I thought you preferred to block me.”
“Where are you, Preston?”
“On the cliff overlooking Graystone Ridge. You can see the whole town from here. Whoa.” I stare out at the blurry lights. “Mom can’t see this anymore, you know.”
There’s movement on his end. “Why not?”
“She’s dead, genius. Killed herself because I’m such a failure.”
“You? A failure? I thought you were the best man to have ever been born. God’s gift to humans.”
“I’m not. I just say that in case I believe it one day.”
Fuck, why am I telling him this?
The sound of an engine reaches me from the other end, and I pause. “Is that the bike?”
“Yeah. I want to test it out before I return it to you.”
“Don’t return it. I burned yours and you didn’t destroy my car like I thought you would, so…yeah. Jude said that bike was your only mode of transportation.”
“And you felt sorry for me?”
“Maybe.”
“Will you throw money at me every time you feel sorry for me?”
“If you want.”
I lean against the steering wheel, my head twisted to the side so I can look at the phone. Then I turn the volume all the way up because the sound of his gruff voice makes me feel like I’m floating among those stars again.
Maybe this time, that small safety won’t disappear like Mom did.
“You’ll be my sugar daddy?” he asks with a bit of a smile in his voice.
“Sure.”
“I’m extremely expensive.”
“I’m rich. I can afford you.”
“I don’t want your money, baby.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You.”
My heart squeezes and I frown. Need the doctors to look this shit up. Can someone have heart cancer?
Heart malfunction?
“I thought we were done,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
“Do you want that?”
“You’re the one who ended it, prick. But I knew you’d come back. You can’t resist me, can you?”
“No.”
I swallow and remain quiet. I only said that to provoke him, but the low spoken word makes my stomach flip.
Christ.
This isn’t only because of the drugs, is it?
“Preston? Are you there?”
“Hm.”
“If I’m coming back to you, it needs to be different this time.”
“Different how?”
“You can’t keep hiding from me and expecting me to be satisfied with scraps of you.”
“It’s just sex, Marcus. Why do you have to make it complicated?”
“Complicated?”
“Yes, complicated. Feelings are fucking complicated. Can’t we…” I breathe harshly. “Can’t we just have what we have?”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because I’m not your booty call. You don’t get to discard me the moment you’re done with my body.”
“But that’s what we are! You also think of me as your booty call.”
“No, I don’t.”
“N-no?”
“Correct. No. I want more of you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t even know me. You don’t know that I…” don’t exist.
I stopped existing a long time ago. I’m just Preston without a soul. Preston failed reboot. Preston made of nothing
“Don’t know what?”
The words choke me, never finding their way out.
The air thickens. It’s not air anymore—it’s water. Dense and slow, it slides down my throat when I inhale. My body moves through it, sluggish and wrong, the world muffled like it’s happening under the surface.
The phone falls from my hand and clatters to the floor. I try to reach out to it, but I don’t move.
I can’t.
I’m being flooded by thick, muddy water as the static ignites in my brain.
“Preston?”
I can’t breathe.
“Fuck… Preston, can you hear me?”
I open my mouth, but only a strangled sound comes out as I gurgle on the water filling my throat.
“Preston! Say something.”
Stay away.
Stay the fuck away from me.
I look up and I can almost see them, the stars amongst which I used to float and float.
The stars I used to see Mom’s and Dad’s faces on, hoping they’d come and get me.
Help, Mommy.
Help me, Daddy.
Help.
It hurts.
Help.
It really hurts.
Help.
I can’t breathe.
Someone please help me breathe.
I want…to breathe.
“Mon trésor (my treasure)…”
I gasp on water as Mom stands in front of the car in her white nightgown, tears sliding down her cheeks. She’s in the dark, my mom, barely visible within the shadows.
With a shaky finger, I flip open the lighter so I can see her better.
It falls from my hand, and a small fire surrounds me, its heat licking my cheeks.
“Mom, I’m here. Mom…”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand toward me. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay… I can live with you, Mom. Dad doesn’t love me, so we can love each other…”
Her tears turn into blood, dripping over her collarbones, soaking her nightgown in red.
“Mom…”
“If you hadn’t been born, I wouldn’t have died.”
“Mom…?”
Her face turns solid red, and I scream as I hit the gas. “Mom!”