Scars (Marked #2.5) Read Online Free PDF Page B

your birthday, but it would mean a lot if this year we could change this. Please, call me. Love you.”
    “Of course, Mother,” I sneered aloud while attempting to stand. The room spun and my stomach churned. Maybe that last drink wasn’t such a good idea? Another attempt, and as I stumbled back onto the couch, the bottle slipped through my fingers and landed on my floor with a muted thud. “Fuck.” There went my plans for the rest of the night.
    Lying down, I laid an arm across my face and closed my eyes. I tried like hell not to let their words hurt me, but it was inevitable. The sole reason I avoided them like the plague. Every time I saw or heard them, it all came back. The abandonment. The fear. The loss.
    How could they expect me to pretend that everything was okay? It would never be. Make believe that our family wasn’t torn apart by their selfishness. Were they in their right to mourn their dead daughter? Of course, but the problem was that in their despair, they abandoned the one still breathing and lost.
    Only their hurt and Sarah mattered. Fuck me for living and breathing. If my bottle wouldn’t have been on the floor, I would’ve spilled a little in remembrance for the life I once had.
    Fuck you all very much.
    “You have one more message. New message from…” My heart sped up while the number of the caller was relayed.
    “Janice, you there? Can we talk?” His voice—all sweet and low—was like a soothing balm to my aching flesh. He held me together more times than I cared to admit.  “I’m sorry, baby girl. So sorry for walking away, like I did tonight. You know me…know that all I want is to see you happy at the end of the day. Call me, love. Let me know we are okay.”
    Now that was a message worthy of my time. At the very least, it showed me that I mattered to someone. That I still held all of Jaime’s attention.

    Bang.
    Bang.
    Bang.
    “What the ever-loving fuck?” I groaned aloud, and then winced. Every muscle—every cell in my body protested when I tried, and failed, to sit up. The room spun, and I ungracefully fell back against the cushions. At that very moment, I could’ve damn well killed the sales-asshole of a man who sold me that couch.  
    Uncomfortable. Irritable. Damn well pissed now that I was awoken from my slumber and on this overpriced piece of shit that hurt my back. Best piece of furniture my ass. The sofa was fine for watching a movie, a quick cat nap, but a whole night…fuck and no.
    Bang.
    Bang.
    Bang.
    “I’m coming!” Yelling that out at the top of my lungs wasn’t my brightest idea to date. Oh, how my head pounded in time with each syllable that passed through my lips. “Never again.” My low and still painful promise didn’t do a damn thing, especially since I knew that tonight I’d do it all over again. Broken vows were the norm for me. They brought comfort.
    Turning on my side, I swung my legs over the edge of the couch and pushed myself up and into a sitting position. My vision blurred for a second, and my friend nausea decided to make a sudden appearance. Jesus. The world around me spun, and at the moment, all I wanted was to lie back down and beg for mercy.
    To forget the world.
    Bang.
    Bang.
    Bang.
    Whoever was on the other side of the door had better have a solid reason as to why they were here. Blood and broken bones are the only excuse I’d take after the night I had. Using the last of my strength, I managed to stand and drag myself to the door. What greeted me on the other side of the peephole left me almost speechless.
    “What the—”
    “Open up, Jan. I know you’re in there.” If someone would’ve told me yesterday that I would be awoken by this man today, I would have laughed. According to our last sets of interactions, he hated me.
    Turning the locks, I opened the door just enough to see his face. He was unwelcomed. Had betrayed our friendship by defending a bitch he didn’t know.
    “What do you want, Lance?” With one hand