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Sighing, I drop down flat against the bed again. Porscha would walk in and catch me talking to myself. I don’t offer her a response, focusing on glaring at the ceiling instead.
“Don’t be like that,” Porscha continues. “We’ve had a busy day! I think your lovers are getting distracted.”
Oh good, more things that don’t make sense. I lick my lips and stay quiet. If I can talk to myself, so can she.
She won’t be so easily ignored however, leaning over into my space. She’s wearing something similar to her old clothes, a worn t-shirt and denim overalls partially visible as she stares down at me. “I think they’ve added someone new to their group of two.”
I keep my expression blank, but now her taunting has my attention. I don’t turn my head, keeping my eyes focused upwards, and flex my hands.
This is the most I’ve been able to move these past weeks. She’s either not being as thorough with drugging me over the last few days, or I’m building a tolerance and she hasn’t figured out to up her dosage yet to keep me weak. She slipped in theend when she tried to take out Jo, and she’s slipping again. I just need to wait.
I did solitary in Illinois on a twenty-three to one schedule, sitting in my prison box for most of the day, every day. There was no true interaction between inmates, and the guards were far more fearsome than the likes of someone like Wallsburg. I can wait out Porscha and her bad attitude.
A screen appears above my face, and my brows draw together. It’s someone watching them again, and I can’t figure out who it could be. I want to know who’s on Porscha’s side and why.
I’ve learned the hard way Porscha’s side is always the wrong side.
The image above me has no sound, and it takes a moment to realize I’m staring at Sterling’s back. Porscha’s shown me a couple videos now, enough so that I recognize the house they’re staying in.
The door opens, but no one is there. Sterling steps in, pausing to stare at something I can’t see. Finally, the door closes, and that should be it.
Instead, the cameraman moves closer to the house. That sparks my interest, because I remember Sterling complaining about Jo and Vinny’s security cameras not getting a good image of the killer -Porscha.Whoever is walking that close to the house must be on camera, and I’d guess they wouldn’t risk it if their presence so close to the dwelling can’t be easily explained.
So who? A guard, an officer, another agent?
The curtains are pushed to the side just enough to see in. The angle is shoddy, and I’m guessing whoever this is doesn’t want to be caught spying. Then I spot Jo and Vinny, her body pressed against the wall as Vinny fucks her.
And Sterling, practically falling over himself to sit on the couch.
She cuts it off then, but it doesn’t stop the strange mix of jealousy and lust that rolls through me. I want to be the third, not Sterling of all people. I surprise myself by not being as mad as I feel I should be.
Is it because it’s Sterling? Or because it’sSterling?It's not surprising to see he’s infatuated with Jo like everyone else already is. Even when he tried to appear disinterested I could tell he found her attractive, even when we were younger. He just wasn’t dumb enough to go after a high school girl while in college, and then all of us split apart after my arrest.
“Do you always watch videos of her?” I ask, turning the tables on Porscha.
She growls. “That’s not the point. You see them, loving her? Using her? It’s a reality that will never include you.”
Way to rub it in.
“What do you think will happen if you get out of here?” she continues with a laugh. “Will you go on the run? Or will you tell the world that I’m not dead? Do you really think they would believe you?” She scoffs.
“Even if I told the story the way it actually happened, I’m not blameless. There’s no reason to dig into it again.”
She sighs. “So noble. I think that’s what I liked the most about corrupting you.”
Her fingers skim the side of my arm, and I flinch. I’m never going to welcome her into my space. Her voice is like a knife stabbing into my brain when she speaks again. “But it hurts, doesn’t it? Seeing yourself replaced?”
“You knew it would happen eventually,” Fake Porscha chimes in, and I really hate that my mind is bringing her back now.
The flesh and blood Porscha appears above me, and this time she’s shaking a little syringe. “Don’t worry, some Vitamin Kwill take care of all of that. No worries, boy. Now I need you to stay quiet for a while. We have company.”
I jerk away when she pulls at my IV, and the damn straps don’t budge when I try and pull back from her. If I could just do something…
That calm, floating feeling settles over me again. Like it has every single day that I can recall since arriving here, the worries are just drifting away.
There’s Fake Porscha, standing at the end of the bed now. She’s wearing a top with a rock band on it, it looks familiar.
Ah.I think Jo used to have that t-shirt.