V-Day: (M-Day #4) (7 page)

“
Riley!
”
I gasped, stumbling backwards. Ignoring me, as if I didn
’
t exist, he dipped his head back down to lap at Michelle. I screamed.
No
—
no
—
it
’
s not real. Not my Riley. Not my Riley.

The scene changed, taking me back in time to a world that would never exist again
—
a world before Men-V had ruined everything
—
just I had.

“
You need to talk to me, Vi, please.
”

I hunched over, curling into myself, wanting to escape Riley but craving his touch at the same time. I lifted my head slowly, meeting his gaze briefly before my eyes slid over him tentatively. His chiseled jaw was clenched so tight the muscles were jumping in it, his dark blue eyes pained. I reached out involuntarily to push his sandy blond hair off of his forehead that the rain had beaten down. We sat in my car, the engine idling, as Riley desperately tried to figure out what was wrong.

“
Vi, please, tell me what I did. Tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.
”

“
You can
’
t fix this,
”
I whispered, biting down on the inside of my cheek to stave off my tears.
“
You need to just let me go.
”

“
Damnit, Vi! God fucking damnit!
”
His hand slammed into the dashboard causing me to jump.
“
I love you. I
’
m not just going to let you go.
”

“
I was pregnant,
”
I blurted.
But not anymore.
My father had pressured me into having it taken care of. The guilt
—
the guilt was eating me alive. That was why I couldn
’
t bear to look at Riley anymore. I
’
d killed his baby and he never even knew I was pregnant.

“
What do you mean you
were
pregnant? What happened?
”
His face softened as if he expected me to say I had a miscarriage or something. The truth would tear his chest wide open.

I stared straight ahead, watching as the rain pounded on my windshield, causing the world to waver like watercolors.
“
My dad
—
he took me
—
paid for it. I
—
I killed our baby.
”

Riley went still, the pinging of the rain sounding louder because of the silence that was pressing down on us.
“
You weren
’
t going to tell me, were you?
”

“
No. And now
—
now I can
’
t
—
I can
’
t
—”
My throat closed off, stealing my words. I dropped my head forward, the hard plastic of the steering wheel pressing into my forehead.

Riley
’
s strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me into him.
“
I
’
ve known you and Ty practically all of my life. I know how your father can be
—
I know, Vi
—
I know.
”
I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling a shaky breath, wanting to drown in Riley
’
s spicy scent.
“
I forgive you, Vivvy baby. I forgive you.
”

I knew his words were meant to fix it
—
comfort me, but they had the opposite effect. Something akin to a wail escaped from me, and I jerked away from him.
“
You shouldn
’
t
—
you shouldn
’
t ever forgive me because I
’
ll never forgive myself. Never.
”

“
Viv, please
—”

“
Get out! Get out! Get out! It
’
s over! We
’
re over! Done! I never want to see you again! Never!
”
I shoved at him, crying harder when the hurt crept into his expression.
Good. He needs to hurt so he
’
ll realize I
’
m not good enough for him
.
“
Get out! I hate you! I can
’
t even look at you!
”

“
Viv, please,
”
he rasped.
“
I love you. We can get through this. I promise you we can.
”

I gripped the steering wheel until my knuckles ached.
“
Get out!
”
I screeched without looking at him.
“
Now!
”

Riley fumbled for the door handle, probably thinking that I just needed some time and space to calm down. We
’
d had some pretty bad fights before.
But none like this. Never anything close to this.

Someone was running sandpaper over my cheeks
—
no, that
’
s not right.
I opened my eyes and groaned in annoyance. Cujo was giving my face a tongue bath with her sandpaper-like tongue. She whined softly when I pushed her away.

“
I didn
’
t mean to cry. Bad memories.
”
I stroked Cujo
’
s soft black fur, the motion soothing me.
“
It
’
s for the best that I didn
’
t have his baby, who
’
d want to have a child in this world? Huh?
”
Cujo rolled onto her back, offering her belly up for a rub. I couldn
’
t help but laugh.
“
Come on, let
’
s get something for us to eat.
”
She sprang from the bed, obviously a fan of my plan.

And while I was at it, I
’
d get more information about what was going on in this crazy house so I could formulate a plan. Just because I was temporarily down for the count didn
’
t mean the clock had stopped ticking.

I paused in the hallway, staring at the small wooden sign someone had carved and placed over one of the doors.
Beware of I-Men
, it read. Curiosity overtook me, and even though I knew it was a jackass move to do, I opened the door slowly, peering inside. The room was empty except for several tables with restraints like you
’
d see in a mental hospital, and a pile of chains in the corner. Goose bumps erupted across my skin at the creep factor.
What the hell am I dealing with here?
Of course I hadn
’
t really considered it before, but unspeakable things must have been done to the uninfected men in order to discover just how to turn them. I pictured several men secured to the tables, flailing in an effort to escape as they were tortured and ultimately contaminated with the virus. Suddenly their eyes faded to ice blue, and they roared with menace. Sadly, I probably wasn
’
t too far off from the truth; my imagination was merely dramatizing the image in my head.

I backed out of the room slowly and closed the door behind me, expelling a breath I hadn
’
t realized I was holding.
I need to get the fuck out of here ASAP
. Cujo had disappeared again, but I
’
d quickly learned that she did her own thing when she felt like it. She
’
d turn up again when she was ready.

I crept towards the stairs, unable to shake the feeling that I didn
’
t belong and that I didn
’
t want to be discovered. It was kind of irrational, but after everything that had happened to me lately, I wasn
’
t so sure I could be counted on to be rational any more.

“
You
’
re the new master. Wanna fuck?
”

I whirled around, thankful that my head was feeling much better, but somehow choked on my own spit. Standing a few feet away was an I-Man, huge like they all seemed to be, gazing at me with unabashed lust. He cupped his bare cock suggestively
…
and expectantly.

“
Get away from me,
”
I managed once I
’
d stopped coughing.

Disappointment swept his features into a scowl.
“
You wanna fuck someone else?
”

“
No! I don
’
t want to fuck anyone! Get away from me!
”
I can
’
t stay here for one second longer. This place is twisted
—
sick. It
’
s beyond FUBAR-ed. No. Just no.

I thundered down the stairs, adrenaline pumping through my system, flashes of me on the bathroom floor pummeling my mind.
“
I have to get out of here. Now. I need out of here now,
”
I mumbled, blindly jogging towards the front door.

“
What are you doing?
”
a feminine voice demanded.
“
You need to rest. You can
’
t go
—”

I flung the door open and ran into the front yard, stones abrading my bare feet. I
’
d never actually had one before, but I was pretty sure I was on the verge of a panic attack. The world had tunneled down to my chaotic heartbeat and my raspy breathing. My arms and legs tingled, and sweat trickled down my spine.

“
Tams!
”
someone called.
“
You better get your kit. The new girl needs to take a little nap before she hurts herself.
”

I made it into the woods across from the house, all rational thought completely failing as one thought drove me
—
getting away. Heavy foot-tread thundered behind me, smashing leaves and twigs. I refused to slow or look back, not wanting to know what was chasing me.

Someone tackled me to the ground, and as I tried to wriggle out from underneath them, a prick punctured my arm. The burn of something being injected into my system preceded me dropping flat on the ground, limp and tired, before everything faded from sight.
Sonofabitch.

I opened my eyes to the same cheery yellow walls that had been mocking me for what seemed like an eternity now. I was trapped in some kind of loop, like in a video game where every time I was killed I ended right back at the beginning.

Frustration, anger, sorrow, regret
—
emotions I
’
d managed to keep locked away, all raged through my system, overwhelming and making me feel completely insane.
Maybe it
’
s this fucking house. Maybe it drives everyone who stays in it completely mad.
I was exhausted emotionally, physically, and mentally. I was barely holding my shit together, something that I hadn
’
t even wanted to admit to myself. I wondered if it would be easier to just give up.
It
’
s all just too hard. All of it. I can
’
t anymore
…
I just can
’
t. I can
’
t
…
I can
’
t
…
I can
’
t.
I rolled over and stuffed my face into a pillow, sobbing hysterically.