MARIEL

7~ Let it Go ~

"Miss."

She'd heard the dark-haired Uber driver the first time, but had ignored him, just as she was about to do again. Grinding her teeth in an effort to distract her from the pulsing headache, Esther leaned her head against the back passenger door window and slowly blinked as she stared at the Caravan house.

She wasn't prepared for the questions. The parental worry. The reaction. Her dad's overprotective anger, her mom's over dramatic tears, the fucking bullying and harassment that she'd be forced to endure from her brother.

She wasn't ready. But, Esther was tired. She wanted to sleep, and she wanted to forget, but she wanted something else even more than either of those. Clicking the power button to her phone, her eyes darted to the screen again. No response from Tira.

Disappointment brought an ache to her chest. She'd certainly blown it, hadn't she? The hurt in Tira's eyes bothered her more than the fact that her ex-lover had just beat the shit out of her. What was that supposed to mean? The last thing she wanted to do was fall in love again, not right now, but every time she thought about the possibility of losing Tira Arcelin, it felt as though the oxygen in her lungs would leave her body.

Fuck.

Esther was an emotional and physical wreck. Earlier in the day, she'd dressed up for her class presentation. She'd smelled good. Now, her nose was black and blue, and she smelled like sweaty vaginal secretions. Desperately, she wanted to shower, to wash Mariel's hands and saliva off of her body. To wash the feel of him pressing his massive dick against her as it'd strained through his pants.

Acidic bile stung her throat. It hadn't come up yet. She wished it would just happen.

And Fr. Jerome had called, but she couldn't even return the call because she despised his son so much. He'd have to wait. Right now, she couldn't handle it, and that made her feel sick with guilt. What if Mariel had hurt him?

"Miss, we are here."

"Can you just give me a goddamn second? Please." Her voice sounded hoarse. Horrible. Congested. God, her head hurt so badly. Each time she moved, or breathed, she felt Mariel's hands on her neck, felt her face smash against the counter. Surprisingly, she'd gotten away with severe bruising. No breaks. She supposed that was a win.

A cold, strong, Long Island sounded overwhelmingly good right now. The smooth, sweet, but strong taste. The clinking of the ice against the glass. The slow burn. The eventual, airy detachment of her brain from her body.

No.

How had the evening gone from a Nerf gun war, to the hottest makeout session she'd ever experienced, to a brawl with her undead ex-boyfriend? Things seemed to escalate in her life. A lot. She wished she were Hawk. Only concerned with being a bratty scientist.

"Miss, please, I am losing money sitting here."

"Fine." Esther unlocked the door and flung it open. "Thank you for your patience, I guess." Stumbling a little, she shuffled down the driveway. Her heart beat with intense fury. Her nose, lips, and head throbbed. Her abdominals and ribs hurt from scrapes and bruising as well.

What the hell was she going to tell her family?

The lights were off, but she hadn't returned to the bookstore to get her car or her keys. She would have to wake someone up. Stopping before the door, she raised her eyebrows, and then instantly regretted it. That small movement hurt like a bitch too. However, Hawk had developed the habit of leaving the back door unlocked. Hopefully, tonight he hadn't decided to use his damn brain. For a smart kid, he was certainly stupid sometimes. There'd been a night when their drunk, middle-aged, neighbor (Patsy, and anyone with a name like that was doomed to be a drunk) had confusedly entered the back door of the Caravan home. Naturally, Esther's dad had greeted her with the muzzle of his pistol.