Sinister

Chapter Twenty-One

“You should have asked Ace to help you.” I say and made sure the tone in my voice came off as teasing to hide the annoyance underneath it. “Then you guys could hook up afterwards.”

“Oh my gosh,” She stops wiping over the table to look up at me, eyes glimmering. “That’s actually a good idea. I can invite him over now.”

“Um.” I clear my throat, straining my neck a little as I stare at her. “Um?”

“You can cover your eyes.” She waves her hand and scoffs. A minute passes and she looks at me again, laughing at my facial expression half-heartedly. “I’m only kidding Lea.”

“Good.” I hunker down on the couch and shut my eyes, releasing an exhausted breath.

“How’s life without me?” She said and since my eyes remain shut I only hear her plopping down onto the couch beside me.

I rest my cheek into the palm of my hand and shrug, “I wish you didn’t leave.”

“Are they getting worse?” She asks, adjusting in her seat comfortably.

I nod once, “It’s horrible.” I open my eyes to look at her and she stares back with eyes full of understanding. Anything I had to say, she was open and ready to take it all in. “Dad’s been saying that he’s going to end up giving me another scar like the one I already have. Mom’s been hitting me more and it’s just...you know.” I stop speaking because the more I talked about it, the more I felt this awful sting in my nose that would then activate the tears piling up inside of me.

“I’m so sorry,” She frowns, bouncing on the cushions as she makes her way towards me. Arms spread out and ready to lock around my neck. “You can spend the night here, I’m just sorry I couldn’t afford a bigger place...this place matched with what I had and I wasn’t thinking. I just wanted to leave, I feel so selfish.”

I hug her tightly and sigh, resting my head on her shoulder. “It’s ok. At least one of us made it out.”

“You will too.” She nods, her chin pressing into my shoulder with each motion. “I promise.”

Jason’s POV --

When you win every game for long periods of time, it gets boring after a while.

This entire week I wasn’t planning on doing shit with my business. If people needed cocaine, my advice is for them to look somewhere else until next week. It’s been an entire month and I’ve done too much, working my ass off to keep my name clean and my cocaine cleaner. The money never stops rolling in though, that’s the bright side of things.

In both hands I held a joint in between my index and middle fingers. Every so often, I’d take a drag out of the joint in my left hand and then I’d take a drag out of the right. The process repeated itself: two long ass drags, hold it in, and exhale that shit. I felt good, I felt high, but when don’t I feel high is the real fucking question. Ace and Brody were playing a game of Spades while I finished the joints in my hands. We were trying to plan out a day to get the hell out of the house and do something. If I’m not outside of the house then I’m inside smoking a blunt so either way I’m doing something productive, in my opinion.