22. Twenty-Second Lesson

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It was Wednesday. Two days to go before I had to settle the debt with Sam, and I wasn't any closer to finding a way out. If I had a bank account, I didn't know of it. The last few years had been all cash. My vivid imagination had done nothing to help me, instead I had conjured several different scenarios of how Sam would hurt me or even kill me. All of them were irrational and stemmed from a paranoid mind, but I was still afraid.

I was hiding in the apartment like I had for these past few days. I didn't dare step outside because the craving had been too big. It was a monster I couldn't control. A beast unleashed. I read books to keep my thoughts occupied, but I was out of good ones to read that I hadn't already gone through at least twice.

Sex. There was a lot of sex in the books, and I knew that sex was one of the fastest ways to get money on the street. I'd done it before, but only when I was high as a kite. I figured it would be very different if I wasn't jacked up.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that I hadn't had anything to eat in days. I knew that went directly against what Marc had told me, but it didn't matter. He didn't matter. Nothing mattered. I was empty. Hollow. It wasn't a bad feeling, at least not entirely. It was familiar and reminded me of Jace.

I missed him.

At one point, I was sure I was in love with him, but the feeling melted away with another set of drugs. Still, it was the closest I'd ever been to love.

I sighed and opened my eyes to flee from my thoughts. Nothing good came out of thinking about Jace. It wasn't helping me, and it wasn't helping him.

The room was dark. I had blinds on every single window, and the only light in the entire apartment was the small display on the microwave. It read 9.45. I hoped it was PM rather than AM.

I couldn't discern the smell of the apartment anymore, so I was pretty sure it stank along with me. A shower would be nice, but it required me to actually rise from the bed. I hadn't planned on it, but then I probably should get up instead of giving up. I'd been through too much to let my life waste away holed up in a dark room.

Removing the blanket, my skin was exposed to the frigid air. It felt like someone had turned off the heating. Hopefully, it was just that I'd stayed too still for too long. The air wasn't moving around enough. Shivering, I made my way to the bathroom and turned on the lights. The white fluorescent glow strained my eyes, and for a while, I couldn't do anything besides blinking.

Fuck this, I thought and felt my way to the shower. I dropped my dirty boxers on the floor, stepped inside and opened my eyes to find the thermostat. The water was cold at first but warmed enough for me to take the final step into the falling rain. Yes, it was one of those showers, and I loved it. Without a doubt, it was the best feature of the entire apartment.

As the water warmed my cold, tired limbs, I continued to think about ways to get money that wouldn't get me into trouble. I knew I couldn't take a loan or any kind of credit for that matter, and I didn't have a single thing to pawn.

For a second, something flashed before my eyes. The box. When I saw it in Marc's house, I had been strong enough to resist taking anything. I hadn't even peeked even if I was sure there was something in there. My resolve was weakening, and I entertained the idea to go and have a look. Perhaps I could ask to come over.

The entire idea was repulsive, and I discarded it a second later. I didn't want to let Marc Matthews down. I wasn't sure exactly why, but I also didn't want to delve too deep into that question.

I washed my hair and scrubbed my skin until it felt raw while thinking about selling myself. That idea should have been more repugnant than "borrowing" something that I had every intention of giving back, but it wasn't. Sex is just sex, right?

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