Page 77 of Bound By Threads
No more waist-length blonde hair, but now a chestnut brown that reaches just below her shoulders, like she chopped off the old burdens of the past. Her figure is fuller, and her eyes still have the shadows of the past lingering in them.
“Lottie,” I rasp, throat dry. “You wanted to talk.”
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink, just looks at me with barely concealed disgust.
“You know why you’re here,” she says.
It’s not a question, and I’m not stupid enough to think it is.
“I… I think so,” I answer carefully. “I’ve been clean for a week now. I’m trying?—”
“This isn’t about you trying!” She snaps her voice sharp enough to slice through the fog in my head. “This is about what you did.”
I swallow hard.
“I…”
“Don’t,” she hisses, stepping forward, eyes burning into mine. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t know what you were doing. You did. You drugged me, Crew. You watched me freak out as I lost myself. You took something from me.”
My breath catches in my throat. “I didn’t… I wanted answers. I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”
There’s a small part of my brain shouting at me to shut up right now, but Lottie’s eyes squint at me like I’m being stupid.
“But you did,” she cuts in again. “You violated me. Just like all the rest of them…”
I want to ask her what she means, but she carries on. “You of all people knew how afraid I was of losing control, of ending up like my parents. And you used that. You think saying you’re clean now makes up for that?” she laughs bitterly. “It’s been a week, Crew. That’s nothing…”
I’m shaking all over now.
Whether it’s from withdrawal or the look on her face, I don’t know.
I want to cry.
I want to scream.
I want to undo everything.
But time doesn’t work like that.
“Lottie… I’m sorry. I know it means nothing, but I am.”
She looks at me for a long, hard second. Then slowly, she steps toward the door.
Then she’s leaving, and my heart thuds against my chest painfully cause I’ve ruined it. I should’ve got on my knees and begged for forgiveness.
The sound of the bolt sliding into place is deafening.
“What… what are you doing?”
“I want revenge. You’re the first.” She says the words calmly… too calm.
I stare at the door, trying to process the words, but everything sounds like static.
“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?” I ask, my voice small.
“Like you three hurt me? No,” she murmurs through the door, her voice like ice. “But I’m going to make you sit there with it. Just you and four walls. You get to feel what it’s like to be powerless. To have someone else control what happens next.”
“Lottie, please,” I say, panic creeping into my voice now. “I can’t be in here. I’m not okay. The withdrawal, it’s…”
