Aiden's eyebrows snap up. He scans me from head to toe, straightens, and gives me a grin that, under normal circumstances, would warm my insides. "Well, hey there. I haven't seen you before, Beautiful."
Chase must have passed Brittany off to someone else, because he appears at my side and gives Aiden a glance so hateful it should curl his hair.
I scowl. "Look, asshole, you've made your money on whatever you sold her. So leave her alone and let someone who cares deal with her."
His smug smile is the last straw. Suddenly I forget there's anyone else here. In my head, he's my last boyfriend. My last drug dealer. My previous life—the one that almost killed me.
Everything I never want to be again.
"Not my fault if she can't handle the high," he drawls. "Can you blame her for wanting some of this—?"
I slap his face.
The crack of it echoes across the parking lot and stops the entire home-going crowd in their tracks.
Snapping upright, Aiden rolls his jaw. His eyes sharpen to knife points.
A tingle starts at the back of my neck, but I will not back down. "You're sick," I spit at him. "You're nothing but a piece of—"
"Careful," he says in a voice so low, it's a growl. "Careful, now, pretty girl. You don't know what you're dealing with." There's nothing playful, or smug in those words. It's pure, undiluted blade.
"You don't scare me," I lie. "These idiots might not understand you, but I do. You slink out of a hole like a rat and take everything, suck them dry. They don't know you're feeding them death. But I do."
"Last. Warning." He leans down until we're nose-to-nose and his voice is so deep, so hushed, it's like the words are in my head.
I clench my hands to fists at my sides, because I can't risk him seeing them shake. "Leave. Her. Alone."
His eyes darken, thunderclouds rolling. My cravings surge like a tidal wave. My skin tightens, like it's about to split. I force myself to hold his gaze for a three-count, then turn on my heel.
I forgot Chase was there. He's staring at Aiden, tree-trunk arms folded, like a bouncer at a club.
"And you!" I draw up as tall as my five foot six frame will allow and point at her, swaying, babbling in a small huddle of girls on the sidewalk. "If you care about her, help her! She obviously can't handle whatever he gave her. She'll be a lot worse than this if she keeps going. She'll be dead."
He glances over my shoulder at Aiden, then gives me a nod. "We'll help her," he says quietly.
"Yes, because it's just that simple." I roll my eyes. Clearly, these people know nothing. But this isn't my responsibility. I shouldn't even be in this conversation.
Aiden's gaze prickles on the side of my face. And much as it pains me to admit, without the distance of a recreational high, I can't escape that something in him scares me.
My skin thrums with the longing to shake him until pills drop out.
I have to get out of here before I do something stupid.
I shove past Chase, toward my car, startled to find an entire crowd gaping at me like I wrestled a bull.
Then I'm in the driver's seat and yanking the car back into gear, ignoring the people on the sidewalk, the laser beam gaze from Aiden, and the speculative look from Chase.
It's possible I just projected every fear and mortification I have about my own life on to that girl. And I may have slapped a complete stranger because I couldn't slap my ex-boyfriend who—
"That was so cool," Amy squeals.
I gun the motor. "Shut up, Amy." I shove my foot to the floor and pull the car away too fast. Someone I don't know stumbles out of my way. My hands tremble, so I grip the wheel until my knuckles stand proud.
"I can't believe you slapped him!" she gushes. "He could have done anything and you—"
"Amy, please shut your mouth."
Stupid, stupid, stupid to draw attention to myself like that.
"Do you think that Aiden guy will try to get revenge on you?"
I roll my eyes. "This isn't a soap-opera, Amy. As long as I stay out of his way, he'll hate me from a distance." I tell her that, but don't believe it. When I walked up to him, I thought Aiden was another greasy drug dealer using his product to get off because no one would want him otherwise.
I was wrong.
There was nothing weak in him.
And there was nothing I wanted to hate.
The opposite, in fact. My rage was all for the metallic tang of want on the back of my tongue, for that girl Brittany—just like the girl I used to be—who'll wake up tomorrow trying to remember why she feels like shit. For the humiliation and shame she'll live with while everyone else laughs about what she did.
And him . . . Him I wanted to punish for giving her the way to do that to herself.
But damned if I don't wish he'd give it to me, too.
As I drive my little orange corolla too fast through the backstreets of La Vista, adrenalin makes my heart beat so hard it thrums in my ears.
I've known too many guys like that. And hated some of them, sure. But not all of them. Some guys like that have an edge—something that cuts to my bones to offer equal parts danger and freedom.
When I was in Aiden's face, I could feel the thrill asking to get in. And even though it scares the bejeezus out of me, I wanted to. I want more of what he's got.
I blow out a breath.
I cannot let myself get close to Aiden—or anyone like him—ever again. I promised my family. I promised myself.
Amy's thrilled and scandalized babbling fills the inside of my car. I nod, or grunt when she pauses for breath so she won't know I'm not paying attention. I'm too busy forcing myself to keep the car pointed forward, away. The muscles in my back and neck screw tighter with each passing block, but I'm determined. I will go home. I will not go back to find that Aiden guy.
I will never do drugs again.
And I mean it. I do. But the too-tight feeling makes me feel like I might explode out of my own skin. I rub a hand over my face, stretch out my neck and remind myself that the only person who can keep me off drugs is me.
I'm also the only person who can fall of my wagon.
Asking Dad for help occurs to me, but I discard the idea immediately. If I admit how bad the cravings are, my parents will renege on our deal that I can live a normal life as long as I go to these boring group meetings they've found at the Youth Center in town. They'll revisit the residential rehab idea, and that is not going to happen.
So, no. I'll beat back the cravings and the attraction to people like Aiden.
And I'll win.
Because I know if I go back to that life it'll kill me.