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Story: Did They Break You

CHAPTER

THIRTY-FOUR

REMI

“You already sound drunk, Rems.” Sloane’s accusation in my ear annoys me. She made it to her sister’s and called me as soon as she did. But I am not drunk. I’m just buzzing.

Just buzzing a lot.

The cabin is packed , and no way was I partying with Van sober.

Which is what I tell Sloane, my words a little slurred as I do. “It’s fine,” I assure her, glancing at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It’s cramped in here, a tiny shower and a toilet within grasping distance from where I stand. “I’m just tipsy.”

I rake my eyes over my reflection. The orange in my hair has faded a little, and it looks good, my French braids back in, orange and blonde mingling together in a way that reminds me of Creamsicles.

I have on heavy eyeliner, a black sheath dress that hits mid-thigh, a gray flannel shirt tied around my waist, and black boots that come to my knees. All from the shopping trip with Van before we hit the road. My birthday presents from him.

I’m spoiled when it comes to my friends, and I know I don’t deserve it. One day, I’ll pay them back for everything.

Van convinced me to get out of my hoodies and right now, I feel good about that decision.

I mean, hell, it’s my birthday, and although most of the people in this cabin—Van’s fellow art majors, plus Ryann—don’t know that, I do.

My stepdad never acknowledged my birthday after Mom passed, not once.

I remember in middle school, filling out forms, and I had to enter that date on one. I stared at the paper, blinking. Trying to get it right. Sometime in September, I knew that much.

But I’d had to go home and ask Silas when the date was.

My teacher called him about that.

That didn’t go well for me, because I “made him look bad.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat, and the fact that I have to see Silas in a few weeks.

That’s not today.

Tonight, I can have fun.

I rode with Van here in his G-wagon, admittedly much cooler than my Corolla.

In addition to the clothes, he also got me two iced coffees on the way, which is like mini birthday presents in themselves, and I’ve got a black, leather-bound journal in my room of the cabin, with orange, glimmer pens as my other gift.

“Just be careful, Remi.” I hear the worry woven in Sloane’s voice, and I don’t like it.

I close my eyes, some of my confidence faltering. For a second, I can smell Storm’s scent, feel Cortland’s words against my ear.

Such pretty words, just like that night in his truck before he fucked me all up.

“You’re everything, Remi.”

But then I see his phone. Maya. He’s still with her.

He’s blown up my phone, but I’ve carefully avoided him, blowing off lunch with Van, spending more time alone. In my room.

In my head.

I’m just doing what I should’ve done when I first saw Cortland in front of the student service’s building last month.

I’m pretending he doesn’t exist.

“I’ll be careful , Mom ,” I tease Sloane.

I hear her laughter on the other end, and I sigh, smiling at myself in the mirror, ready to grab another drink. Ryann makes vodka-cran like no one’s business. I mean, it’s only a few ingredients, but it just tastes better when she does it. “Anyway, gotta go. Van is waiting for me.”

I end the call with Sloane, pull my phone from my ear.

I have a text from him, and my heart picks up speed in my chest as I read it.

Cortland

What are you doing?

I bite the inside of my cheek and think about ignoring it, like I’ve done all his other ones. He can keep Maya, letting her suck him off in front of Storm and they can be one big, open family.

I don’t want any part of that, do I?

Then I think of Storm’s eyes on me on the couch.

“You like him looking at you?”

My face flushes hot, but my heart… my heart hurts.

None of your fucking business.

Before I can tuck my phone in my studded black bra, he’s already typing.

And since I’m staring at my screen, I might as well wait for his reply, right?

I hear loud laughter down the hall from the living room of the cabin, music thudding loudly, too. “Crimes” by Picturesque.

I happen to love that song, and Van knows it.

I smile to myself, then Cortland’s text comes through.

Cortland

Really that upset about my dick in Maya’s mouth, baby?

I almost break my manicured black nails as I squeeze my phone so hard, pressing the tips against the screen.

But I just did them on campus last night with Sloane—after the MacBook, I paid for both of us—the first time in…

over a year. I had to keep my sleeves down, careful not to let my manicurist see my new hobby.

Just as I take a breath, ready to tell him to go fuck himself and block him while I do, another text comes through.

Cortland

Nothing actually happened, and it was before we agreed not to fuck with other people. It didn’t mean shit. It doesn’t mean shit, and I don’t want you to do something stupid because you’re mad at me. I already saved you once, Remi.

I blink at my screen, propping my hip on the counter of the bathroom as I face the door, trying to think. I’ve had about two of Ryann’s speciality drinks, and I meant what I told Sloane. I’m not drunk.

But seeing those words from Cortland, protective, more like the person I used to know, it does something to me.

You feeling guilty, Cortland?

His reply is instantaneous.

Cortland

Always, pretty baby.

My heart skips a beat. It’s as close to an admission of him actually fucking me over that I’ve ever gotten. I don’t know how to feel about it.

Define “something stupid.”

If he wants to play games, I can, too. Van has some hot friends, and now that Cortland’s fingered me in a graveyard and went down on me in the library, I’m feeling a little braver.

Besides, you don’t turn twenty every day.

Cortland

Don’t test me.

You’re not very intimidating through a screen.

But I’m smiling despite myself, feeling a chill slide down my spine at his aggressive words.

Cortland

What about when my hand is wrapped around your throat, Remi?

For a moment, I’m speechless, staring at his message. Feeling warmth unfurl in my core, a need in my low belly. And for a moment, I wish he was here.

I wish I could trust him.

But I think about Maya’s texts. Me in his bed.

That’s assault. Leave me alone.

I stuff my phone in my bra and unlock the door, walking out to join the party.