"Yes... I want you to leave me alone. I mean it."
The words leave a sickly taste in your mouth and you wash them down with even more wine, aware that the more you drink the more your resolve might weaken but you're not thinking straight.
"Do you tho...
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You hang back as Bondy pushes the door open, lingering in the shadows even though Larry's ushering you through, both boys laughing and joking about something you can't follow. You're on high alert, every nerve ending bristling with a sick kind of dread, your stomach twisting into the tightest knot, your lungs choked up as you suck in quiet, rapid breaths.
The hotel room comes into view and you scan it with the precision of a military trained sniper, trying to catch sight of Sophie or Van or any sign that your sordid little secret's been let out to wreak havoc like the devastating poison that it may as well be.
All you can see are happy smiling faces, mostly people you know and a few you don't, standing in small groups chatting aimlessly with not a care in the world, oblivious of the ticking time bomb that you're all too aware of. You feel nausea rise for the umpteenth time in the last thirty minutes, swallowing it down with a mouthful of lukewarm lager that nearly makes you gag. You feel dizzy, your head spinning and your cheeks on fire, your heart pounding so hard you're struggling to breathe.
"Are you alright? You don't look so good."
Larry's standing beside you, eyeing you warily, his hand rising up to push your hair back from your forehead so he can lay his palm flat against the skin there.
"What are you doing?" You grumble, swatting his hand away.
"Seeing if you've got a temperature. Thought you might be burning up, but ya don't feel that hot. You look it though. And you're stuck in those wet clothes, that can't be doing you any good when you've just been poorly." He frowns, looking down at your bedraggled appearance, making you feel even more self-conscious. "How the hell did ya get so wet anyway? You shared a taxi with Van didn't you?"
You shift where you stand, playing back the heated cab ride in your mind, you bursting out into the downpour, Van pursuing you. You'd thought you were being so strong resisting him at the time.
"Yeah I did... but we got out a few streets away. It was Van... he errr... he got the address of the hotel wrong."
"How the fuck did he manage that? He kicked up such a fuss about staying at this particular one 'cause he's been here so many times."
Larry's face screws up and a fresh wave of sticky heat crashes over you. Fuck... you can't even lie convincingly about a minor detail. You sip at your can again as a distraction, keeping your eyes trained downward, trying not to react to the fact that Larry's radiating suspicion. When you finally look back up you're horrified to see an overly curious look on his face.
"So are ya gonna tell me what happened between you and Van tonight then?"
You swallow down a gulp, anxiety tearing through you like a jagged shard of steel, your skin prickling with shame and your knees feeling weak. You'd bolt for the door if you could engage your brain enough to will your limbs to move. You're frozen to the spot though and it's just as well. A voice in your head is blaring at you, telling you to pull yourself together and try to act like you're not just about to fall apart.
