Gluttony

He was in love with her.

She had killed his girlfriend.

He was in love with her.

She was a murderer.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Beth had known that her time was up. She had to confess everything. But it was too hard.

She hated herself for her weakness, and for her terror. Was she in love with him too?

She didn’t allow herself to wonder.

A tall, too-skinny guy wandered up to her and, though she couldn’t face anyone, she didn’t have the will to turn away. “No one that pretty should be that sad,” he told her.

Beth took a closer look at his familiar face. It was the guy she’d seen earlier, with Kane. As if the night wasn’t bad enough. “Are you staying here?” Or just following me?

“Looking for someone,” the guy muttered. “But she’s not here. Lucky I found you.”

“Can you just leave me alone?” Beth wasn’t even sure she meant it. At least talking to him was helping to drive Reed’s words out of her mind. I love you. How could she believe that when she hated herself so much? Who could ever love her, once they knew what she really was?

“Whatever. But first.” He reached into his pocked and pulled out a lumpy, misshapen joint. “Pigs got everything else, but this one’s special. Guaranteed to brighten your night. My treat.”

Common sense would tell her not to accept drugs from strangers-especially strangers who associated with Kane. But common sense had gone to sleep for the night, and Beth needed something to get her through the next minute, and the one after that. She reached for the joint. The guy handed it to her, then, as she turned to go, he grabbed her other hand, squeezing tight. “Not so fast. I’m not done with you.”

Whatever he was about to do, she deserved worse. So she didn’t pull back, didn’t scream, didn’t show a hint of fear. She wasn’t feeling any. She felt dead inside, flat and hopeless. Her mind flashed a danger sign, but her body and her emotions refused to react. Whatever happened, would happen.

The guy reached into his pocket again, and Beth saw a glint of metal.

He pulled out a lighter, stuck the joint between her lips, and lit the tip. “Enjoy the night,” he said, already walking away. “Someone should.”

She drew in deep, gulping down the bitter smoke. And again. A burning cloud filled her lungs, searing her insides, and it almost made her smile. Because she knew that soon the cloudy haze would descend and she wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore, not for a long while.

Her muscles went loose as her senses intensified, and the world seemed to get stronger and brighter with every breath. The joint burned out, but the lights and colors around her continued to brighten, until the world seemed to pulse with a rippling energy that drew the earth and sky together into a living creature poised to consume her.

This was new. And it felt wrong.

Beth turned to look for Kane’s friend, but he was gone, disappeared into the crowd, and as she turned in a slow circle searching for him, she found she couldn’t stop, and her spinning grew taster and faster until she was whirling wildly, her hands outstretched and her face tipped up to the sky. She stumbled as the ground tilted toward her, then rolled away, and as she flung her arms out for balance, she saw an impossible trail of blue tracing through the air following her movements. Suddenly the colors were everywhere, bursting out of people’s heads like a Crayola explosion, wiggling and swirling through the air until mixing into a thick, heavy, mud-colored fog that pressed down upon her until she fell to the ground under its weight.

She pressed herself against the wall, crawling, almost slithering, around the corner, out of sight, hiding from whatever was out there, watching, waiting. And in the darkness of the alley, she curled into a tight ball, pressing her legs against her chest and digging her chin into them, trying to think. But her thoughts kept bobbing to the surface and dipping below again, just before she could pluck them away… they were too fast, she was too slow.

This isn’t pot.

He loves me.

I killed her.

What if they find me?

What is this?

What’s happening to me?

What will happen to me?

Help…

That was the right thought, the important one, the one she should turn into words and scream aloud before she got dragged under, but it was so hard to focus, and before she could speak, the idea drifted away.

So did she.

Chapter 9

It was all clear to him now.

Standing so close to Harper, breathing in her perfume, it had been too hard to think rationally. But a couple hours of wandering the streets had given Adam everything he needed to be certain.

It was a frightening choice. Sticking to friendship would be the safe move, that much was obvious. But what if Harper was supposed to be the one?

Not that Adam believed in that cheesy shit. That was for girls, long-distance commercials, and Valentine’s Day. Still, he couldn’t forget how happy he’d been for those few weeks they were together, and how right it had felt to hold her again.

But on the other hand-and it seemed there was always another hand-coming together had nearly blown them apart for good. He had meant what he’d told her in the hospital, months before: He loved her, he forgave her, but he wasn’t ready to trust her. He couldn’t force himself to forget the lies she’d told and the pain she’d caused. She’d manipulated him and destroyed his relationship with Beth, all to get what she wanted.

And, despite how easy it was to believe otherwise when looking into her eyes, he suspected she’d be willing to do it all over again.

Within minutes of leaving her side, he’d known exactly what to do. An hour later, he’d changed his mind, just as sure that he was right. Eventually, he’d gone back to the hotel room-half hoping to run into Kane or Miranda, someone he could ask for advice, even though he knew that no one could help. Not with this. The room had been empty, and he lay down on the bed, closed his eyes, and tried to decide what he wanted.

Was it more important to be happy? Or to protect himself from being miserable?

It was almost midnight, and he finally knew the answer. He just didn’t know what Harper would do when she heard it.

He had intended to walk to their rendezvous point-the New York-New York hotel, with its neon and plaster skyline, was less than a mile away. But now it was too late for that. So instead he was forced to wait in front of the hotel for the taxi, shifting his weight back and forth, nervously wondering how the night would end.