Page 8 of Poisoned Pawn
When we arrive at my place, Rick helps me get Toni inside and up the stairs into the bed in the spare room.
“Jesus, she’s heavier than she looks,” I exclaim as we reach the bottom of the stairs.
“I heard that,” Toni’s sleepy words carry down the stairs, and we both laugh.
At the front door, Rick stops before stepping out. “Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to send one of the guys over?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine. Honestly. Wrong place, wrong time, that’s all. I feel awful for Hannah’s family though. And her friend.” That damn niggle is back, whispering words of caution in my ear. Shoving it down, I let Rick out, thanking him and wishing him a goodnight.
“Call me if you need anything. And don’t say I didn’t warn you when Aidan hears what happened.” He points a finger at me with a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, yeah. Go, get home to Jess. Give her and Max a hug from me, and I promise to come and see you all soon.” He nods then turns and walks off down the path to his car. “Thanks again,” I call as he climbs in his car and drives away.
I lock up and grab two bottles of water from the fridge before heading upstairs. I put one on the bedside table for Toni then head to my own room.
I toss my outfit on the floor and throw on an old t-shirt, then jump into bed, plumping up the pillow as I turn on to my side. I lay staring at the clock on my bedside table, watching as the digits flick over and the minutes count down to 2 a.m., 3 a.m., until my eyes finally drift shut around 3.30 a.m.
* * *
I’m making my second cup of tea as the TV plays in the background. There’s still no movement from Toni, but it is early. The events of last night have made sure my sleep was little to none.
Carrying my cup into the lounge, I’m just lowering myself on the sofa when the newsreader’s words catch my attention, and I look up to see a picture of Hannah Swift, the girl who was shot last night, splashed across the screen.
I listen as the male newsreader explains how the young girl was enjoying a night out with friends when her life was cut short as she was leaving Neon Flux. He goes on with the usual spiel that police are looking for any witnesses who might have any information to help their investigation.
I switch the TV off just has another news story comes on, not interested in hearing more depressing shit. I drink my tea and play some mundane game on my phone to distract my mind. Having used all my energy for now, I switch out of the game as my phone chimes with a message from Rick checking everything is okay. Sending him a quick reply, I carry my cup to the kitchen then head for a shower.
By the time I come back downstairs, Toni is sat on the sofa cradling a cup of her favourite coffee.
“Hey, you okay,” I ask dropping down beside her with my legs tucked underneath me and facing her.
“Yeah. A little freaked out still.” She lifts the cup to her mouth, then stops and adds, “You could have died—we could have died, Star.”
“I know, but we didn’t.”
“No, but that poor girl did.” Her eyes drop to her cup for a moment. When she raises them back up to look at me, her eyes are heavy with tears. “Do you know how relieved I was when I realised it wasn’t you? How awful is that?”
“It’s not awful. It’s a natural reaction. I felt the same when I knew you were okay.” She doesn’t need to know it’s not the first time I’ve been so close to getting shot.
“Maybe, but it doesn’t make the guilt taste any better.”
“No, it doesn’t. Come on let’s head into town and shop. I have a date tonight.”
Her head snaps up, wide eyes pinned on me. “What the fuck! And you didn’t think to mention this, huh?”
I laugh. “I didn’t mention it because you know how disastrous my dates are. I’ve no doubt this will be another wasted evening. But look on the bright side, I’ll have another hilarious and enthralling episode of ‘what not to do on a date’ for you tomorrow.”
“They are disastrous because you are so damn picky. Just close your eyes, open your legs and get off. If he talks too much, then stick a tit in his mouth. Every man loves to suck boob.”
“Oh my god,” I say through my laughter. When I’ve got myself back under control, I say, “And I’m not picky, just particular.” If only she knew exactly how particular I am.
Even after years and hours of talking with my therapist, my sex life isn’t close to being conventional. And while I’m okay with it to a degree., I don’t share my preferences with people—not even my closest friend.
It’s not that I don’t trust Toni, or even think she won’t understand. It’s more about me, about still not being able to fully reconcile what happened to me and what turns me on. Not forgetting she’s bound to ask questions. And I’m certainly not prepared to delve into my sordid past. And I don’t want Toni giving me the look—the one that shows sympathy, yet they have no idea what to say or how to deal with you telling them you were kidnapped and sold to a paedophile sex ring when you were barely eight years old.
Yeah, I’m that girl.
The tainted, damaged girl who gets turned on by rough sex and being praised as they make me…