Page 25 of Make Me Scream (Visceral #2)

ABEL

“Abel, I want you to meet Adam, my boyfriend.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I mutter into my bowl of dry, expired oatmeal.

“Abel!” Lucy hisses angrily, and I roll my eyes, forcing myself to look up at the greaseball standing in front of me.

He’s tall, and his dark hair clings to his forehead, which is broken out with scabs.

Our eyes meet with a quick flash, and the look I see with his dilated pupils has me squirming in my seat, desperate to get away.

I drop my head back down, my barely-there appetite gone in a flash.

“Hey,” Adam leers, and I feel his eyes all over me. My skin crawls, and I desperately need a shower. I swallow the bile slithering up my throat.

“I gotta go,” I mutter and shove away from the table to disappear into my room. I close the door behind me and drop to my bed, head in my hands. I’m hyperventilating, breaths coming too short and too fast. I need to slow them down, but I can’t. This can’t be happening to me again.

I want to cry, but I laugh instead because what a fucking joke my life is.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t escape it.

I don’t know why it hurts so much—the reality that Lucy has hurt me. It’s not like I didn’t expect it because I did. But I’ve only been here two weeks—and it’s fucking Christmas Eve. I guess I expected it to take a bit longer before the disappointments started rolling in.

But now, I’ve gotta take matters into my own hands and do what needs to be done, as much as it’s going to hurt me. Because I can’t do this.

I can’t risk my life anymore.

With shaking hands, I pull out my phone and scroll through my contacts until I reach the “J’s”, my thumb hovering over his name with trepidation coiling in my gut. Once I do this, there’s no going back.

But then, I hear that creepy motherfucker’s laugh echoing down the hall, and my decision is made for me. I exhale heavily and press call, then put the phone up to my ear. It rings thrice before he picks up.

“Hello?” he drawls in confusion.

You can do this, Abel.

To survive.

“Jason, baby, long time, no speak,” I purr, falling back into my old speaking pattern like it never passed.

“Abel?” he questions, voice raising a few octaves.

I smirk, even though he can’t see. “The one and only.”

“Holy shit, I thought you disappeared on me,” he muses, and I frown.

Fuck, I really don’t want to do this… but Jason was good to me, and he paid well. If it’s just him…

Survive, Abel.

“I did, but I’m back from the dead,” I deadpan, which makes him laugh loudly. I pull my phone away from my ear, rolling my eyes.

“Good to know. And why are you calling me?” he asks teasingly.

I tsk. “I think you know why, baby,” I drawl.

“Oh, do I?” I hear him lick his lips, and I shudder, unable to help my body’s response to his apparent arousal.

Damnit.

“You want me, don’t you?”

“Mmm, you were pretty good. But you did ghost me, which is naughty.”

“Come on, baby. You’ve always known I’m naughty; that’s not much of a surprise. And you like naughty,” I add flirtatiously.

He laughs gleefully, and I smirk, knowing I’ve got him hook, line, and sinker. “You’ve got me there.”

“Oh, I know it,” I drawl. “Come on,” I purr. “Tell me you missed me.” I drop back on my bed and cross my legs, hating the rush of heat in my groin. I missed the power this gave me. The control and triumph.

“I did, baby boy. It’s been too long.”

That nickname makes me wince. I completely forgot Jason ever called me that, and it feels so fucking wrong coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah,” I say, nearly choking on the words. Tears come to my eyes, images of Peris flashing in my mind’s eye. I squeeze them shut and crinkle my nose against the onslaught. They creep through anyway, and I feel them slip through my lashes.

And it fucking hurts.

For the first time in my life, being selfish cripples me, and I don’t know what to do with that. I clutch my chest from the pain—knowing what this will do to Peris and to me as well, but also knowing I can’t stop what I’ve already started.

All I’ve ever known is how to survive, and I can’t stop now.

I need to get out, and this is how I do it.

“So…” Jason drawls.

“So…” I parrot, hitching my voice an octave higher to imitate flirting and to try and work past the lump lodged in my throat. I don’t know if it works, but even if it doesn’t, he doesn’t seem to care.

“I’m guessing you would like to meet up soon then, since you called me?” he questions.

“Whatever works for your schedule, of course, baby. But…” I pause, hesitating.

What if I ask for more? My heart starts to race.

I would have to do it less to get the same amount, and it would be easier…

fuck. I yank on my hair. Sweat beads along my forehead and upper lip.

I swipe my tongue across it and lick it away.

I have to risk it.

“I’m worth a little more now. Is that all right with you?”

He chuckles, and I shiver. I kind of forgot how hot his voice was. “How much more we talkin’ here?”

“Five hundred for the night.” I stumble the words out.

“Five hundred, baby? Damn.” He whistles, and I wince. Fuck. That’s too much. I more than doubled my usual price.

No one’s going to pay that much for a whore.

“Let’s see if you can make a fuck worth five hundred dollars, baby boy. How does that sound? If you can, that’s what I’ll pay.”

“Oh,” I chuckle breathlessly, feeling relieved instantly. “You must have forgotten who you’re talkin’ to, baby. You know I can fuck you that good.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?”

I grin into the air, feeling a bit of my old self wash over me—and damn, it feels kinda good. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

My eyes open on Christmas morning, and I’ve never felt shittier in my life. I feel hungover—my head is pounding, and my throat feels dry. My stomach is curdling and roiling, nausea ever-present, and I’m just on the verge of throwing up.

“Fucking lovely,” I mutter as I roll to my side, scrunching my eyes shut. I push out every breath slowly through my nose and out through my mouth, hating every fucking moment that I’m alive.

My phone vibrating beside me makes me jolt, and I groan loudly. I scrabble for it and swipe to answer the call without bothering to see who it is. “Hello?” I croak.

“Oh, no, you sound sick.”

“Elise,” I whisper, freezing up.

“Who else would it be?” she laughs lightly, and I can’t fucking speak. I haven’t talked to her since I left. I’ve been a coward—ignored her calls and texts, refused to answer and face what I had done to her.

“I… don’t know,” I say after a while, squeezing my phone tightly in my hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Feel like shit,” I croak.

“Catch a bug, maybe?”

“In this mold-infested apartment? Anything is possible,” I mutter.

“Mold?” she screeches, and I wince, pulling the phone away from my ear.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I just?—”

“Yeah, I know. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. None of this is fine.”

“Elise, if you don’t mind, I really don’t want to rehash the inevitable.”

“Yeah, of course, honey. I actually called to see if you wanted to come over for Christmas, but I wasn’t sure if you had plans with…” she trails off, and I laugh, despite the sensation rolling through my stomach.

“Nah, was just gonna lie in bed all day, especially with the way I feel. So, if you don’t mind that I’m a little sick…”

“Nope. I’m a nurse, after all.” And I swear I can hear her wink.

“Cool. If you give me a bit, I can head over?—”

“Don’t be stupid!” she chastises me. “Peris is headed over to pick you up.”

“Uhhh…” I suck my bottom lip between my teeth.

“You think because I know you are boyfriends now, you can’t be together?”

I splutter, choking on the spit I sharply inhale. “What the fuck?” I hack.

“Easy, Abel. It’s fine. He’s on his way now. I’ll see you soon, okay? And dress warm, please.” With that, she hangs up, leaving me reeling at the strangest turn of events because what the fuck?

I find Peris’s number and hit call. He answers immediately. “What?”

“You’re so nice to me,” I complain, and he laughs. “Your mom just called us boyfriends.” I find immense pleasure in hearing Peris splutter across the line like I just did. “Yeah, I know. I just did the same,” I say after he’s caught his breath.

I hear his car accelerate in the background, meaning he’s getting closer to me with every second that passes.

“Are you my boyfriend?” I ask hesitantly, guilt gnawing at me.

He sighs heavily, and I just know he’s raking his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what it means to be someone’s, runt. All I know is that you’re mine.”

“Sounds like I’m your boyfriend then.”

“Whatever the fuck you want to call it, as long as you know,” he mutters, and I can hear the waver in his voice. I know how hard this must be for him.

“Do you not want me to say that?”

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Abel,” he snaps, and I sigh heavily.

“If you don’t want to be, then just say that.”

“I just don’t like the word,” is all he says, like that makes any sense, but maybe it does to him, and I just don’t get it.

“Okay, lover, ” I drawl sarcastically.

I hear a tell-tale squeak and imagine his fingers tightening around the wheel like they tend to do. “I hate that.”

“I know.” My face scrunches up in distaste. “Me, too.”

We laugh together, and then, it gets quiet for a few minutes.

“I’ll be there in a few. Be ready for me.” And then, Peris hangs up. I drop my phone with a sigh and force myself to sit up and get dressed, pushing down the waves of nausea I feel every time I move a little too quickly.

By the time I’m ready to go, backpack slung over my shoulder, Lucy starts questioning me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Out.”

“Out where? It’s Christmas, and we have plans.” She gestures between her, her new boyfriend, and me. I roll my eyes.

“You mean you do. I don’t have shit with you. I’ll see you later.” And I slam the door behind me to enunciate my point. I speed walk down the dimly lit hall, heart racing in my throat.

Three… two…

“Abel!”

“Bye!”