SNAP (The SNAP Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

I glance at Cady and widen my eyes in wonder. This guy is absolutely adorable.

"Nice to meet you, too, Erick. I can't say I've heard a lot about you," I say to him then turn to Cady. "But I have a feeling I'll be hearing
a lot,
later."

Cady laughs and Erick looks between the two of us trying to read our facial expressions.

I forget all about Phil as we move to a table and talk while Cady and Erick eat their food. Watching the two of them together puts a smile on my face. She had mentioned that she had met someone at a party recently, but didn't elaborate. I assumed it was just another Joe Blow she'd have a one night stand with and I wouldn't hear more about it. But Erick doesn't watch her like he wants to jump in her bed then run away. He's fascinated by her. He watches every move she makes, especially when he doesn't think anyone else is paying attention. This one's a keeper. Cady and I will be having a long talk later about Erick.

"There you are. You disappeared on me." Phil sits down beside me and wraps his arm around my shoulder.

I disappeared on him? My eyes drift down to my watch and notice almost thirty minutes have passed since he took off with his friend.

Cady, about to take a bite, freezes and narrows her eyes at him. I nudge her under the table begging her to not say anything. This date has started off horrible as it is. If she speaks her mind to him, who knows what will happen. I'll play the happy date and let him down easy later.

"Cady, how are you?" Phil asks her, pulling me closer to him.

She looks at me before taking a huge bite of her burger, filling her mouth so she doesn't have to speak. Her thumb comes up as she chews her food, smacking her lips rudely on purpose. Phil sniffs and turns his attention to Erick.

"What's up, Erick?"

How does he know Erick? They travel in completely different circles – well, I assume they do because they are so different. I don't see Erick as being up to Phil's…standards. Then again, I'm not either. Who am I to judge?

"Not much, man. Getting ready to check out of this place. Swanson is calling our name," Erick says to him, studying the two of us together. "You guys wanna come?"

Before I can say yes, Phil chimes in. "No, that's okay. We have other plans. You two go have fun."

Yeah, because I'm so sure what you have planned will be so much more fun than going to a party with people we know.

Cady eyes Phil before crumbling her trash in a ball and standing. "Call me later, Hazel." She walks toward her car tossing her trash as she goes with Erick following hot on her tail.

"Ready?" Phil squeezes my shoulder and turns to me.

This seems like a repeat of last time. He's in a much better mood and energetic. Hopefully the rest of the night will go by fast and I can be done with him.

"Ready when you are," I say, faking yet another smile for him.

He grabs my hand and leads me to the car, opening the door for me like a gentleman. I roll my eyes as he shuts the door and walks to his side. I don't know what his game is, but it's getting tiresome after only a few dates.

We end up at a local watering hole. No, not Maggie Mae's, because he doesn't like the people that go there. Go figure. Where Maggie's is more laid back, this bar is more hyped up, aiming more toward the younger, rowdier, and richer crowd. I can't believe the differences in the drink prices here and it's just across town. Ridiculous. After we find a table, I excuse myself to the restroom while he orders our drinks.

Standing in the line, I wonder if I can escape out the door undetected and call Cady to come get me. Phil's been a chatter box since we left the carhop. His shifting personality is giving me whiplash. I'll have a drink with him then he's taking me home. I'm done.

I spend as much time in the bathroom as possible before returning to him. He's sitting at the table watching a game on the flatscreen TV above the bar while drinking his beer. Pop music is pounding through the speakers and girls are grinding on guys on the small dance floor. This is so not the place for me. This music is already giving me a migraine.

"Why does it always take you girls forever in the bathroom?" Phil laughs, putting his elbows on the table and leaning forward so I can hear him better.

"There was a long line," I respond and glance around.

"Here." Phil hands me a fishbowl glass. "Drink up." He smiles at me a little too excited and watches me look at the drink.

I told myself one drink, and that's what it'll be. "Thanks." I take a sip to see what he got me and my mouth puckers on the bitter taste. "What is this?" I ask, looking at the dark concoction in my hand.

"Southern sweet tea. I thought you liked those. Is it not good?"

"I think they left out the sweet." I laugh and take another drink trying to figure out what the hell they put in this to make it so strong and bitter. If this is what they call a southern sweet tea, someone needs retrained or to find a different profession.

He chuckles and drinks his beer. "I'll make sure the next one is made right. It looked like they put a lot of alcohol in it, but I'm not a bartender."

"That's alright. I don't want to drink much. I'm getting a headache and liquor always makes it worse." I tell my white lie paving the way to cut the evening short.

"Don't say that. We just got here. Relax and enjoy your drink. Hopefully it'll help ease your head."

I nod and continue sipping my drink trying to figure out the recipe while Phil prattles on about his weekend fishing trip with his dad and brother that I care nothing about. I zone out, but pay enough attention to nod at the appropriate times and laugh with him so he thinks I'm listening. I've noticed that Phil loves to talk about himself. As long as I go along with it, he remains happy. Anything to get this night over with.

"I'm going to get another round," he tells me, and motions to my drink. "Drink up."

He's watches me as I finish off the drink and almost gag. The last bit was even more bitter, if that is even possible.

"I don't want another one. You go ahead," I tell him as I hand him my glass.

He snatches the glass out of my hand rather forcefully and walks toward the bar. His actions leave me bewildered. I've never seen anyone get so upset about not having to pay for someone's drink. He just keeps getting stranger and stranger.

When he returns, he has a beer in one hand and another fishbowl in the other. I sigh in frustration as he sets it in front of me with a smile. This guy does not like to listen or be told what to do. I already feel a buzz from the first drink. I do not want to get drunk with Phil. A sober Phil is hard enough to handle, I can't imagine what a drunk Phil would be like.

"I told you I didn't want another," I say to him and point to the glass.

"Come on, Hazel. One more isn't gonna kill you," he says and laughs. "Are you in a bad mood tonight?"

Why, yes. I am in a bad mood. You've been an asshole ever since you picked me up and now you're acting like nothing is wrong and wanting me to "drink up," I think to myself. I only wish I had the guts to say it aloud.

"No, I'm not. My head is hurting, I told you that." I pick up the drink and sip it, wondering if it's going to taste as bad as the other. It doesn't. It actually tastes like it's supposed to.

"Better this time?" he asks as he watches me take a sip and look through the glass at the contents.

"Yes." I respond, taking another sip.

"I complained about the last one so they comped both drinks." A cocky grin forms on his thin face as he raises brows so blonde they look invisible. Am I supposed to get excited about that? He was the one paying for these drinks, not me, so I don't care. If the bar makes shitty drinks, that's just more business for Maggie's. Now that thought gets me excited.

Phil starts talking about himself again so I sit back and enjoy my drink. But as my drink vanishes, so does my ability to focus. Sounds begin to slur together and not make sense. The room is moving in slow motion and I feel like I'm on a carousel. I stare at the coaster on the table to get a focal point. I know it's not supposed to be moving, but it is. Closing my eyes, I rub my temples trying to make the spinning stop. It doesn't. It only gets worse. I feel like I'm teetering in my chair and at any moment I'm going to hit the ground. My hands grasp the table edge to steady myself as everything and everyone in the room become one giant blur.

"Hey, you okay?" The voice sounds deep and slow, like a muffled echo.

I open my eyes to see Phil next to me, holding me up in my chair. He laughs and grabs my purse. "I think it's time to get you home, sweet girl. You've drank too much."

How much did I drink? I try to think back to when we got to the bar, but I can't remember any of it. It's a jumbled mess in my head. I attempt to speak to him, but I can't form words and I can't remember what I was going to say.

He helps me up, but my boneless legs don't want to support me. I just want to go home and lie down. My head is pounding like a drum and the sound of it is horrid. I can hear someone asking if she's alright and if he needs any help, but Phil kindly brushes them off.

The next thing I know, we are stopped at a traffic light and I can't recall getting into the car. The car is quiet and my head isn't pounding near as bad as it was. Phil is rubbing my thigh talking to me soothingly. Why can't he be this nice all the time? He'd probably find a great girl if he behaved this way all the time. Unfortunately, I already know what a dick he can be.

He snorts and grips my thigh painfully making me wonder if I said that out loud. The car takes off fast causing my head to spin again. I close my eyes and allow myself to get lost in the darkness behind my lids.

Jostling and muddled whispers rouse me. My lids are like sandbags and I'm not strong enough to lift them. Something is rubbing against my body and all I can do is lay there and feel. The words make no sense, but it lulls me in and out of consciousness. Heat burns through my body following the path of whatever is touching me. It's not a horrible sensation. It actually feels nice.

I follow it, and move with the flow enjoying all the sensations. This has to be the weirdest lucid dream I've ever had. An abyss so dark I can't see anything, but it feels as though hands are touching me everywhere. I'm too mellow to be scared. I'm too turned on to stop it and wake-up. Pleasure turning into pain, turning back into pleasure has my head spinning and I can feel myself undulating in the darkness as the whispers float around me again.

I focus on those whispers trying to make out the words that are playing tricks with me ears. Every time I think I'm getting closer to finding the source, they fade out leaving me alone again. Frustration fills me as I try to fight my way to the surface. Pain greater than any I have felt up to this point tears through my body making me scream out. The sound startles me awake and I'm finally able to open my lids some. Noises come into focus before my sight and I hear moaning and heavy breathing.

"That's it, sweet girl," the strained voice says. "Come on my cock like you came on my face."

I'm confused by his words. I open my lips to speak when his mouth crashes against mine, teeth clacking painfully together as his tongue pushes deep triggering my gag reflex. I shove against him so I can get a grasp on the situation, but my arms are heavy and numb. Attempting to move my legs wields the same result.

Skin smacks against skin the same time I feel a dull throb on the side of my bottom. I jerk away from it and feel something stab deep inside of me. I can feel an orgasm building as my eyes open, bringing me face to face with a sweating and grunting monster. Ice blue eyes that look dead inside meet mine as a repulsive smirk forms on his face.

Weeks have passed since I woke up from that nightmare of a date. Bits and pieces of the evening are still lost to me. I don't think I'll ever know everything that happened that night. I don't think I want to. At first I thought it was just a horrible dream, until I awoke the next morning naked in my own bed covered in bruises and barely able to walk. I took the next few days off work feigning illness, fearful of people asking questions and having to admit to something I'm not even sure of. The majority of my time was spent staring into a mirror trying to figure out who I was and what I did to make him think I enjoyed being beaten during sex.

Cady was the hardest to keep at bay. Constant phone calls and text messages from her had me fearing she would stop by at any second. I was able to appease her and she never stopped by, allowing me time to heal the best I could before showing my face to the outside world again. Even then I felt like people were staring at me like they knew what happened.

The marks took much longer to fade, though, and I found myself wearing long sleeves to work for over a week. Some lasted longer, but luckily those were in places not easily seen unless I was undressed. Those bruises taunted me until they disappeared. They are still there when I close my eyes. I don't think they will ever go away.

Phil tried to contact me a few days after we slept together. He acted as if nothing were wrong and didn't understand why I didn't want to speak to him or go out again. He stopped by my place a few times after I changed my phone number, but I pretended I wasn't home. The thought of letting him in petrified me. I didn't want to face him. I just wanted to leave it alone and move on.

We run into each other around town and he makes it a point to talk to me every single time. My skin crawls when he's near and I swear I can feel phantom pains from the deep scratches and bruises he left behind. The ones on my stomach still haven't healed completely.

Cady has asked several times how that date turned out since I didn't call her. She was also with me for a few of those encounters with Phil. I had to tell her something, so I just said he was a total asshole and that I have been avoiding him. Thankfully, she's bought it and hasn't pushed for more information. I don't think I can tell her. Hell, I don't think I can tell anyone.

My phone chimes out
Red, Red Wine
alerting me that Cady is calling. I push thoughts of Phil out of my mind as I dig around in the abyss I call a purse trying to find my phone before it goes to voicemail. All I need to hear is,
"Are you hitting the f-u button on me?"
I find it just in time and answer the call.

"Hey, girl. You finally decide to wake up?"

"It's only eleven," she growls into the phone. "Drinking my coffee and waking up. What are you doing?"

"Oh you know, the usual; using my only day off to run my ass off. I'm heading into the P.O. to get some stamps and drop off some bills, then I'm heading over to the store to grab a few things. You need anything while I'm there?"

"Damn girl, take a breath. Why don't you grab me some ciggs and stop by and chill for a minute. Sounds like you need a skittle," she says, referring to a Xanax. I'm always high strung.

The thoughts that run through my mind run circles around my body. If only my mind could become as exhausted as my body. Maybe then I could relax. But with what happened with Phil recently, I've found it difficult to relax at all. My mind churns constantly trying to remember that night until I've worked myself into a panic attack. I'll never forget my first one. It scared the shit out of me. I thought I was dying. Waking up in a cold sweat and struggling to breathe is becoming the norm. There's not been a night since that I haven't. It's exhausting and zapping me of all my energy everyday. Drugs are not my thing. I've done them here and there at parties through the years, but I don't really enjoy them and regretted using them after. I'll take that pill, though, if it helps me to sleep easy tonight.

"Sure thing. Get ready to ride the rainbow, I'll be there shortly."

"KK. Hurry up, bitch. I need nicotine!"

"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist. Love ya, buh-bye!" I hang up before she can say anything else to me and toss my phone into my purse with a sigh. Trying to fool Cady is wiping me out too.

I head into the Post Office to mail off all of my hard earned money. My blood, sweat, and tears soak this shit. Literally. I am accident prone and have injured myself several times at work. One time being the moment I almost sliced a nipple off with the lemon slicer. That's a story for a different day. Right now, I'm mentally singing the blues about paying all these bills for all of this shit I can't even enjoy because I live at my job. Don't get me wrong, I love my job. I've worked hard to get where I am, but this is the first day I've had off in sixteen days and my dogs have long gone hoarse. I was in dire need of a day off a week ago, but working has kept me busy and not dwelling on horrible things. The only person I can blame is myself for volunteering to work when I should be getting my head on straight.

After the post office, I head over to the nearest gas station to grab some ciggs and a fountain pop. Nothing tastes better than a fountain pop. Okay, I take that back. There are some things that taste better, but when I'm parched and in need of an ice-cold caffeinated drink, a fountain pop beats the hell out of everything else. It's my father's fault. Every time we went out, he would stop and get us a pop to share. Now every time I leave the house I stop and grab one. I take a long draw on my straw enjoying that slight burning, fuzzy, bubbly, sweet sensation of my drink, sighing into my aaaah after that first sip. Freaking perfection.

The newspaper catches my eye as I wait in line to pay. I notice an article titled
New Drug On Mississippi Streets
. That's all we need. More people addicted to narcotics or whatever this drug is. Like I said, I'm no angel and I'm thankful they've never had a hold over me, nor would I want them to. My father would be so disappointed if he knew I even did them once let alone a few times. I go back to enjoying my drink and getting lost in the fizzy goodness with thoughts of my father dancing around in my head.

"Miss…. Are you ready to check out?" The clerk asks with a raise of his brow.

Don't look at me like that, buddy. It's the small things.
My mouth opens to say a kinder version of my thoughts when I hear a chuckle come from behind me.
Oh dear lord, this jerk better shut it, I'm not in the mood.
That's something else I've noticed lately. My patience is thinner. A lot thinner. I hate that. I've been snappy with so many people, and that's not me at all. Maybe that's why they look at me like they know what happened. I'm having problems recognizing myself some days.

"Yep. Can I also get two packs of Blues in a box?" As he turns to grab the cigarettes from the holder behind him, the jerk sets his drink down next to mine and comes forward to stand next to me at the counter.

What the fuck buddy? I'll be done in a minute.

I turn wondering what his deal is and see Phil next to me. He chews on the straw of his drink with his perfectly white teeth like he's hot shit. Memories from that night flicker through my mind putting me on edge. I take in a deep breath to calm myself. Anger is all I've felt toward him since that night. And his sudden appearance at places he never goes is happening more and more making me more uneasy every time I run into him. I don't need to lose my shit in the middle of the gas station. Shaking my head, I turn back around to face an annoyed gas station cashier.

Yeah, I'm annoyed too.

"$11.17, please," he says, bored.

I take my debit card out of my change purse and swipe it in the card reader. When the keypad pops up, I punch in my pin and slip my card back into my purse. Grabbing my cigarettes, I look back over at Phil while I wait for my receipt. He's leaning against the counter staring at me like he's waiting for an answer.

"What?"

"I asked how you've been doing, Hazel."

The audacity of him to ask that question after what happened between us. I'm not giving him the satisfaction. I definitely didn't have any. Barely able to walk, and when I did, it was steps filled with pain. What kind of person hurts people they have sex with? I push it out of my mind and pretend nothing ever happened between us. Pretending is what gets me through the day. It's easier that way since I don't really know what happened between us anyway.

"Great, peachy keen. How have you been, Phil?"

He lets out a chuckle and points. I turn to find the annoyed cashier holding my receipt up in the air by my face.
Boy he's having a bad fucking day.
I take it, shoving it into my back pocket while saying thanks and turn to leave as fast as my legs will take me without looking back.

As I walk out the door not waiting for his answer, I hear him say, "Keep the change."

FUUUUUUUUUUCK!

I hear his footsteps behind me as I walk up to my SUV. Heart pounding, I trigger the unlock button on my key ring hoping to get inside it as fast as possible. The doors unlocking is music to my ears. I'm almost there.

"Fuck. Wait up, Hazel."

"Sorry, I'm kinda in a hurry," I say to him, not looking in his direction. I open the driver's side door and climb in. I can see Phil out of the corner of my eye hanging on the edge of my door waiting for me to look up at him.

"What's your rush? You can't say hi to me? Come on now."

I look over at him leaning against my car door with a smirk on his face. Almost identical to the smirk I awoke to that night. A cold sweat beads on my flesh causing it to be clammy. Each time I see him out and about, he gets a little bit closer to me. I can't stand it.

"Hi. How are you?" Dear God, this day better not get worse than this.

"See, that wasn't so bad, now was it? Peachy keen, thanks for asking."

Great he's throwing my words right back at me. Do we really have to play this game right now?

"Awesome, great to hear it. Look, I really have to go. I'm supposed to be meeting Cady," I spit as quickly as I can. I reach for my door handle, but he pulls the door further out of my reach. I stop and raise my eyes to his.

"It was good to see you," he says lowly, all playfulness leaving his voice.

Creepy.

I force a smile and grab my door handle slamming the door shut. Starting the car, I quickly reverse out of my spot and get the fuck out of dodge as fast as I can. I sneak a peek in my rear view mirror to see him standing there with an eerie grin. The hairs on the back of my neck rise making me quiver.

"Fucker," I utter under my breath. How can he not see that I want nothing to do with him?

Needing to get as far out of town, and away from Phil as I can, I skip the store and head to Cady's house. I turn on the radio to my fave station that plays a smorgasbord of great music trying to breathe through the impending panic attack. AFI's
Crush Love
blares from the speakers and I nod my head to the beat as I turn it up. Reaching for my ciggs, the chance encounter with Phil plays over again in my head. He creeps me out so I don't want to do anything to push him or let him know how much he gets to me. I try to be nice, but it's hard.

I can't blame him for anything other than being rough with me. I got wasted on our date. Something I still can't believe I did knowing I didn't want to be out with him to begin with. Hopefully I didn't throw myself at him, but chances are I did. I don't remember. Doesn't mean I'm alright with the outcome. And nothing will ever change between us. He needs to give up.

I snort. "That doesn't seem to be happening," I say to myself.

I hear my phone's vibration in the cup holder and turn down my radio to hear Cady's ringtone. "Chello," I sing in a cheery tone.

"Did you get lost?"

"No, it's only been half an hour. I'm heading your way now."

"'Bout damn time. My body is going into withdrawal. Do you know how much it sucks to drink coffee and not have a smoke?" Cady is grouchy. Hell, I'd be grouchy, too, without my morning smoke with my coffee.

"Chill out there, terminator. I'm on my way. Be there in ten."

"Fine, hurry up," she growls into the phone before she hangs up.

Wow, PMS much? I drop my phone back into my cup holder and turn the radio back up. Heading to the outskirts of Trinity, I turn onto the back road that leads to her house.