“And now you want my sympathy?” I reach for the door handle. “You want me to feel sorry for you because you got what you deserved?”
I yank the handle. The door opens an inch before he slams it back closed.
“Let go.”
“Not until you listen.”
“I don’t need to listen to anything.” I look him dead in the eyes. “You deal drugs. You get high. You left me stranded with yourcome all over me. And now you’re sitting here covered in bruises like I’m supposed to care.”
“I didn’t get high by choice—”
“There’s always a choice.” My voice is ice. “You made yours. Multiple times, apparently.”
Something flashes across his face—pain, maybe, or anger. Good. Let him hurt.
“You don’t understand,” he says.
“Oh,” I mock and cross my arms tighter. “Go ahead. Tell me the sob story that’s supposed to make this okay.”
He’s quiet for a long moment. His hand is still on the door, keeping it closed, but his grip has loosened.
“My stepdad,” he finally says. “He called me in. I had to go.”
“Had to.”
“Yes.”
“And the drugs? Did youhave totake those too?”
His jaw works. “He forced them down my throat.”
I laugh. It’s sharp, bitter. “Right. Your stepdad held you down and made you swallow pills, smoke, inject, whatever the fuck it is that you’re high on. That’s your story?”
“It’s the truth.”
“The truth.” I shake my head. “You know what the truth is? Drugs killed my mother. They made my father disappear. They’re destroying my brother piece by piece.” I lean forward, making sure he can see every ounce of disgust in my eyes. “So forgive me if I don’t give a flying fuck what happens to you.”
“Lexi—”
“We had a deal.” I jab a finger at his chest, right between two of the bruises. He flinches.
“I told you, I don’t—”
“I don’t care.” I grab the door handle again. “Deal’s off. You’re done. We’re done.”
This time when I pull, he lets the door open.
I get out, start walking across the parking lot. My heart is racing, hands shaking, but I keep my stride steady.
His footsteps follow.
“Lexi.”
“I’m walking away from you.”
“Lexi, stop.”
I spin around. He’s standing there shirtless, bruised, pupils still blown wide, looking like every warning sign possible.
