I just need to know so I can make sure I don’t do or say any of the things he said to her when I make love to her in the future. I need to make sure I never fuck her in the same positions he fucked her in.

But now I’m out of goddamn time, because someone is beating on the door and Luke still hasn’t opened his mouth.

“Asa!”

It’s Dalton.

I’m still not sure what to think about Dalton. I really like him. He’s coke, everybody likes coke. But everyone knows cocaine is one of the most widely impersonated drugs there is. A whole hell of a lot of imposters. Dealers selling crushed up aspirin on street-corners to half-dead crack-addicts who can’t even tell the difference.

Dalton may not even be cocaine. He’s probably a bottle of fucking Advil, crushed up and poured into a baggie.

“Asa, open the door!” Dalton yells.

I reach behind me and make sure the door is locked. “Where did everyone go?” I yell to Dalton. “It’s quiet out there!”

“Open the door so we can talk.” He’s right on the other side of the door now.

I laugh and repeat myself. “Where is everyone, Dalton? Where are Jon and Kevin?”

“They left. They got paranoid and left.”

Of course they did. Fucking best friends for life. Assholes.

I look over at Sloan. She’s sitting at the head of the bed, her knees pulled up to her chest. She’s watching me, wide-eyed.

Luke is watching me, too. It doesn’t matter where I’m standing or what I’m doing, his eyes are always fucking on me. Have been since the day I met him. The day Dalton introduced me to him.

I tilt my head until my mouth is close to the crack in the door. “Why are you still here, Dalton? Waiting on your backup to arrive?”

Dalton isn’t so quick to respond this time. After a pause, he says, “I’m here because my friend is in there. If you let him go, we’ll leave.”

I can’t believe I fucking fell for this. Months of practically living with these fuckers and all they were here to do is destroy me.

Kind of feels like my childhood all over again.

At least Sloan loves me.

At least.

I drag my eyes across the room until they land on her. “Remember when I was in the shower earlier and you asked me if I wanted anything from the grocery store?”

She nods, but barely.

“I told you I wanted a dessert for the celebration. Did you get one?”

She nods again. “Your favorite,” she whispers.

“Coconut cake?”

She nods.

See? She fucking loves me.

“Dalton,” I say, demanding his attention. Not that it ever left me.

I should probably move over. He’s right on the other side of this door. Wouldn’t put it past the fucker to shoot me through it.

I step against the wall and reach down to make sure the door is locked. “Do me a favor, will you? Bring us the coconut cake.”

Again, Dalton pauses for a moment before responding. “You want cake?” he says, confused. “You fucking want cake?”

Why does that sound so ridiculous?

“Yes, I want cake! Bring us the fucking coconut cake, asshole!”

I hear Dalton’s footsteps fade as he walks into the kitchen. Luke is staring at me like I’ve lost my mind.

“You got a problem?”

He shakes his head and opens his mouth to speak. Finally.

“There’s medication that can help you, Asa,” he says.

Medication?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Luke glances at Sloan and then back at me. I hate it when he looks at her. It makes me want to rip his fucking eyes out and swallow them like my mother’s yellow pills.

“You’ve checked the lock on the door fifteen times in the last five minutes,” he says. “That isn’t normal behavior. But it can be controlled. Just like your father’s behavior could have been controlled.”

This is where I cut the fucker off. “Talk about my father again, Luke. I dare you.”

His eyes meet the gun that’s pointed straight at him now, but for some reason, he still doesn’t shut the fuck up.

“Did you know he was diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when he was only twenty-seven? I read it in his file. He never took his meds, Asa, not even once. The things going on inside your head-they can stop. It can all stop. You don’t have to be like him.”

I stride across the room and press the fucking gun to his head. “I’m not like him! I’m nothing like him!”

Before I pull the trigger, Dalton beats on the door.

“How am I supposed to give you the cake?” Dalton yells.