As Sydney strolls by me today, she mutters under her breath, “Fucking slut. I know what you did the other night.”
The other night? I have to think about what I did… Oh, that was the night she caught me and River in his office making out. But I don’t say anything to her because there’s nothing to say.
“You know, you can be such a bitch,” she says, picking up the pace just a little as she looks at me from over her shoulder. “I have no idea how River can even touch you. You’re fucking pathetic and disgusting. You probably have herpes with how much of a whore you are. You’ve practically slept with everyone in this town.”
I’m not a whore. Yes, I have sex, but not that much, and not with just anyone. It’s all very high schoolish and I really just want to walk away, but I find myself standing there. The word whore has triggered an unexplainable rage within me. One that’s so overpowering it drowns everything else around me out. My vision blurs. My hearing pops. My pulse hammers and a figure appears behind Sydney. He’s not real—I’ve seen him before and know he’s just an illusion. But every time it happens, it makes me sick to my stomach.
You’re a whore!
You’re a whore!
You’re a whore!
It’s not my voice inside my head. Not Lily’s. It’s male. Baritone. Angry. I’ve heard it before. These episodes aren’t new to me at all. I sometimes wonder if something from my past sets them off, but since I can’t remember anything, I just get angry. Enraged. It’s so thick I can’t see. I’m not mad over the insult at this moment, but some time in my life, I have been. And sometime in my life, I’ve cowered like a child from the sound of it. I want to do it now, especially with the man there, staring at me, eyes I can’t see, face a shadow. I want to look away. Wrap my arms around myself and pretend to be somewhere else. Surrender and give up.
You will not. You can’t just stand around and let this go on. Take her out. Stop being Maddie.
“I don’t know how,” I whisper, my body starting to tremble as I grip onto the chair for support because my knees are about to buckle. The man fades in and out of focus.
You’re a whore!
Make her hurt. Like you’re hurting. Don’t be weak. Make her suffer.
Chapter 6
Lily
As soon as I get control, the imaginary man vanishes¸ because I have more power over the mind then to let the ghost memory remain there, attempting to torment me.
“I’m not a fucking whore,” I say in level voice. Sydney’s lucky we’re in a crowded place, otherwise this would all be over with in the snap of a finger. “And if you call me that again, you won’t be walking away from me.” My hands are calmly at my sides, my posture straight, my gaze unwavering. I’m in more control than I’ve ever been, which is good. Maddie is weak and the most undecided person I’ve ever known. It’s no wonder she needs me.
“Excuse me,” Sydney says, inching toward me, but then rethinks it and retreats. “What’s y-your deal,” she stammers, bumping her hip against a chair.
“What’s my deal?” I press my lips together, deciding how to go about this. If Maddie were completely silent, I’d probably knock her out and walk away from it. Suffer the consequences. It’s not like I haven’t done that before—suffered. And I can sure as hell do it again. I take a few calculated steps toward her and slant my head to the side, inspecting blondie. “You really want to know what my deal is? Really?” My voice drips with sarcasm.
Sydney’s lips part as if she’s going to say something, but then she gets this frightened look and starts moving around quickly, practically jogging around the tables, ramming into some of them. All I can think is tackle her down and enfold my fingers around her neck. Strangle her, like I did to the man in the road. I want to so badly but I know I can’t, not with four sets of eyes on me. I have to ball my hands into fists and stab my nails into my palms to contain my inner desires that I don’t understand. I draw blood. Cut skin. It feels good, so I plunge my nails deeper into my skin I don’t move even when Sydney disappears into the back room. It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever had to do—not following after her.
You’re a whore!
The voice is right—I am a whore. That among other things. I’m a sinner. A rebel. A punk. A psychopath, at least according to the voice. It’s not like I chose to be this way. Shit has happened that created me. Shit I don’t understand and don’t really care to understand. All I care about at the moment is chasing after Sydney, pulling her hair out, making her bleed. Watching her veins pop open. Spilling blood. Making her pay for saying those things to me. Not being weak and letting myself get walked all over. That’s Maddie’s thing. I’m alive just thinking about it and finally I decide to give into it and let Maddie deal with it later. I step forward, ready to go through with it—rip her to shreds.
“You okay?” Bella touches my shoulder and I whirl around, almost hitting her in the face.
She blinks, stunned, surrendering her hands in front of her and I blink, nearly falling to the floor as it feels like a ghost rushes from my body and I’m gone back into my hiding place, where I can’t be seen. Locked up, just like always.
Story of my life for the last six years, ever since I lost control.
Chapter 7
Maddie
“Relax, Maddie.” Bella lowers her hands only when I’ve took a few breaths and calmed down. “Jesus, you really shouldn’t let Sydney get to you. Trust me. It’s her mission in life to get a rise out of people.”
I nod, still unable to speak, fearing what my voice will sound like—fearing she’ll hear Lily in me. Worried that whatever just happened, will happen again. I feel a lot of fear at the moment. What just happened?
The man is gone. Sydney is gone. I’m shaking, beads of sweat covering my skin, my palms cut open, my mind racing from the lingering sensation of the voice, from Lily’s overwhelming control, from homicidal thoughts, from this crazy feeling of lost time. But I manage to shake it off before I return to the bar with Bella and begin checking the alcohol glasses to see what needs to be refilled, anything to ignore what just happened, because it’s all I can do at the moment, otherwise it’ll get even harder to breathe.
After making a trip back to the storage room, I go to the front counter where Bella is standing in front of the register, filing her nails, eyeing Sydney down, who’s staring, as she flips over a chair from the table and sets it down on the floor. I can’t even remember what I said to her to piss her off so bad. She was insulting me, then I got mad… then I…
“You know, I’m really starting to wonder if she has some sort of underlying grudge toward you,” Bella remarks as she moves the nail file back and forth across her fingertips. “Like maybe she knew you pre-amnesia and is holding a grudge.”
“Yeah, maybe... But why would she know me and not say anything for the last month?” I stare at Sydney trying to will my mind to make a connection. Do I know her from somewhere? I don’t think so... but then again how can I know? How can I know anything about the past unless someone tells me it?
Maybe she’s just not a good person. Did you ever think of that? That some people aren’t good.
“Then again it could just be because you kicked her ass the first week working here.” Bella looks away from Sydney and shakes her head. She reaches for a glass beside the register and takes a long drink. I don’t even bother asking what’s in it. I already know it’s something strong by the way her face twists as she swallows the liquid. Bella is great at pretending to be good, too, when really at heart she’s probably almost as equally as bad as me, well close anyway. “I should probably unlock the front door, huh?” She changes the subject off Sydney, glancing at the clock on the wall and then at the front door.
“Isn’t River supposed to be the one who actually unlocks the place?” I ask, looking up at the picture window above me where River’s office is. “I mean, I know he’s usually late, but he always gets here in time to unlock.”
“Actually River’s up in his of
fice, “ she says as she rounds the counter and heads to the front door, twirling the keys around on her finger. “He came in early today.”
“Really? What’s the occasion?” I ask as she flips on the neon open sign. I feel exhausted, on the verge of passing out. Today’s been a rough day mentally and I’m not sure how much more I can take. I really should have just skipped out on work and stayed with Ryland.
Bella shrugs, unlocking the door with the key then returning to the bar area to put the keys in the drawer just below the register. “Who knows?" Her eyes sparkle mischievously as she winds around the counter and behind the bar. “Maybe he’s excited to see you after your hook-up last night.”
I adjust the bottom of my shirt higher as a bald guy comes roaming in the front door. “We didn’t hook up last night.”
She eyes me over suspiciously as she reaches down the front of her top and rearranges her cleavage so it’s pretty much busting out of the shirt. “I know there’s something going on between you two and I wish you’d just fess up so you can give me the juicy details.”
“Nothing is going on between us.” It’s not a lie. Nothing really is going on, at least not to me. Fun. That’s what I consider it. Pure and simple fun because anything else would be wrong. River’s a nice guy but I don’t feel nearly as comfortable around him as I do with Ryland. That steady peace I feel up in the cabin is more like unsteady nervous energy when I’m near River, mainly caused by Lily because she doesn’t like him very much. “And maybe he just got here early because he wanted to get a jump on things so he could actually come down and hang out tonight ”
She laughs, shaking her head. “You actually think he finally decided after all that studying of people or whatever the hell he does,” she says. “That he actually wanted to be part of society and enter the real world?”
“He studies sociology,” I correct her, grabbing my drink and moving for the doorway that leads to the stairway. “Which is the study of human social behavior.”
“Wow, brainiac,” she teases me then turns around as the bald guy strolls up to the counter, asking for a lap dance, laying down a twenty on the countertop. Bella obliges without her cheery mood deflating. She’s good at that. Either not caring or concealing her emotions—I can’t tell for certain which one it is. I flinch a lot and cry about what I do later in the bathroom, that is when I’m Maddie. Lily owns it.
Turning away from them, I climb up the stairway to the office to see what River’s doing, even though I shouldn’t. Lily always tells me to stay away from him, that he sees too much in people, and if he looks hard enough, he’ll probably see her. She doesn’t like him at all, which is part of the reason why I think I haven’t had sex with him. But I can’t help but go see him. I’m drawn to him like all the sweaty, beer-gutted men that show up here every night, drawn to half-dressed women they can’t touch and booze.
When I get to the top of the stairs, the door is wide open. River is sitting behind the desk his head tipped down as he sorts through the papers. He’s the mere opposite of a Ken doll, but in a good way. I find his floppy brown hair, tattoos, and his hipster style, appealing enough that I keep coming back for more. Honestly, I can’t really explain what my attraction is to him. It’s not usually like me to continue to hook up with the same guy for a month straight. I usually have one-nighters, even though I feel guilty about it—Lily loves them—because I know there’s no way I can have a relationship with someone, without them eventually stumbling across the madness inside me.
“Knock, knock, knock,” I say as I rap my hand on the doorframe, entering the small, very disorganized room that is supposed to be an office but looks more like a storage room. The window to my right gives an open view of the entire bar and stage area where there’s a shiny pole waiting to be danced around.
River quickly glances up, startled by my appearance. “Fuck, you scared the shit out of me.” He’s wearing a pair of square framed glasses and takes them off to rub his blue eyes. “You have a knack for that. You know that?”
“Sorry,” I apologize, wandering into his office that has crooked pictures hanging on the walls, stacks of papers on the desks and overflowing filing cabinets, and the empty energy drink cans and candy wrappers falling out of the overly full garbage can. “So I thought you guys were going to hire a maid?” I plaster on a playful smile because that’s who I have to be around River—playful and flirty. Fun, fake Maddie. “You know, one of those naughty one’s that flashes her ass while she cleans it then gives you a happy ending.”
He looks around the room with his forehead furrowed, like he’s just noticed the mess. “Oh yeah. I think Glen is working on it or something.” He blinks then focuses on me, his gaze slowly drinking me in. “I mean, not the naughty maid part. Just a normal maid.”
“Sure, if you say so.” I press back a smile. “You know Glen is never going to higher anyone right?” I ask, plopping down in the chair in front of the desk and setting my drink on the desk. I cross my legs and tap my fingers on my knee. “He’s been saying forever that he’s going to higher someone to fix the handle on the freezer door, yet it’s been broken longer than I’ve worked here.”
“I’ll talk to him,” River says. “I think he’s just got a lot of other important stuff he’s been trying to take care of.”
“You know Bella almost got locked in there, right? She was in there for like an hour or something before anyone heard her. The thing is sound proof. Seriously, she could have died and no one would have known.” And the cold air would have preserved her body. We would have never smelled the death in the air, breathing it in unknowingly. Vile burns at the back of my throat. God, I wish I could stop.
“Bella’s over dramatic,” he says, relaxing back in the chair. “Almost means she walked in, the door shut, and then she actually had to open it to walk out.”
“Wow, hater,” I tell him, biting my lip as Lily gets aggravated by the fact that I’m flirting with him—she always does. In fact, she always tunes out whenever River and I are fooling around, which means that anything I do in those moments is clearly under the will of my own—no excuses. Which makes Maddie kind of slutty and more and more like Lily everyday. “And here I thought you were all about the love.”
“No you didn’t.” He says amusedly as he leans forward and crosses his arms on his desk. “You’re too smart to think I’m that nice.”
“Everyone else does,” I tell him, relieved to be up here playfully bantering with him for the moment and getting a break from the voices and ghosts that haunt me. “It might have to do with the fact that you blush when I say ‘naughty maid.’”
“I don’t blush.” He rolls his eyes and gives me a look like I’m the most absurd person in the world. “And I really don’t believe that you think I’m nice,” he says. “And if everyone else does, then everyone else is stupid in my opinion, at least around here.”
“Maybe I’m really stupid too.” I say lightly. “You know, you don’t even know me. And for all you know, all our conversations have been centered around me memorizing facts on the internet right before we meet up.”
“You think you’re more mysterious than you are, Maddie, because I do know you,” he says, watching my reaction closely, like he does whenever he’s associating with anyone. “Your a girl who has a very twisted sense of humor. That is hard to faze. That has a lot of secrets. That doesn’t seem to mind giving guys personal dances when a lot of the girls get emotional and complain about it later. That dresses like a different character almost every single day.” He relaxes back in his chair again as Lily squirms inside me and starts clawing her way under my skin. He sees too much. You need to shut him up. “Tell me, who are you today?”
I glance down at my outfit. “I think I was going for badass biker chick.” I elevate my gaze back up at him and force my tone to be upbeat. “Using those stellar sociology skills, are you?”
He shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking. “Perhaps.”
“If I didn’t know any bet
ter, I’d think you were trying to impress me.” I almost smile for real.
The corners of his lips quirk with amusement. “Maybe I am. Is it working?”
“Nope.” I give a soft laugh, tucking a fallen strand of my hair behind my ear. “What is your thesis on again? Remind me.”
“I’m still working on it,” he replies then marginally perks up. “Why? Do you want to offer yourself as a test subject?”
“I’ve already told you before, I’d be a very boring test subject,” I say, getting to my feet without even thinking. It’s so abrupt, so sudden, I can barely process doing it. You can’t let him study you—can’t let him find out who you really are. They’ll lock us away.