At Any Price - Page 62/125

“You picked him out, Heath. You said he was the best choice.”

“I wasn’t lying. He was. But this whole thing started out in bizarro world and took a sharp left turn into fucked-up land fast.”

I shook my head, no snarky reply forthcoming. I must have been off my game.

After staring through me for a few tense minutes, Heath finally blew out a breath. “Listen, you are a big girl. I love you, but I can’t stand by and watch you get yourself fucked by this guy—in more ways than the intended one.”

I couldn’t breathe, suddenly close to tears. “Heath, why are you being so hurtful?” Heath’s words were only confirming my worst fears. Adam was using me. Adam wanted something from me. Adam would discard me like garbage once he was done with me. Just like the Biological Sperm Donor had done with my mother. Because they were all the same.

“Because I’m worried about you. You aren’t actually developing feelings for him, are you? A guy like that will chew you up and spit you out.”

I looked into Heath’s eyes and shook my head. “I have to take my chances, Heath.”

Heath spread his hands out wide. “Fine. You don’t have to listen to me. But I’m not fielding your mother’s calls anymore. You handle it. Handle it all. I’m out.”

And with a disgusted wave of his arm, he turned and left, slamming the door behind him.

I might have laid my head down and cried. I sure felt like it. But I didn’t. I logged on to the game instead and took out about two dozen orcs, checking at least a dozen times to see if my friends FallenOne or Persephone were on. Fallen hadn’t logged into the game since the day we had chatted, weeks ago. I sent him a quick e-mail, asking how he was and when he was going to come back, then started working on an article for my blog.

Heath’s words repeated themselves over and over in my head and I could hardly concentrate on all the things I had to do. Was Adam playing me? For what reason? Was what we were doing truly sick? I couldn’t answer. Every time I thought about Adam, strange feelings rose up in my chest and threatened to crowd everything else out. It made it hard to think, hard to breathe.

With a shuddering sigh, I moved around that apartment like a mindless robot, getting the things I needed done before dressing in a pair of white Capris and a pale blue T-shirt for the barbecue.

***

Once again, Adam was prompt when he came to pick me up to take me to his uncle’s house. He opened the door for me and I settled into the vintage leather seats of his Porsche.

His uncle lived in the next city over from mine, Tustin, near the rolling hills that swept toward the canyons in OC’s backcountry. The homes here were nice. Not mansions like in Newport, but upper-middle-class homes with established but not wealthy inhabitants. And it was in the long white driveway of one of these that Adam parked his car.

We were hardly out of the car before two young boys—no older than six or eight, came racing out of the house. “Adam!” they shouted, clearly excited.

Adam bent and scooped up each one in a muscular arm, pulling them off the ground. “Holy crap!” he said with an exaggerated groan. “You two are getting heavy.”

“Put me down!” one of them said. I pegged him to be a few years older than his brother, as he was slightly bigger. Other than that, it was difficult to tell them apart. They had similar features and their hair was the exact same color. “DJ, I get to drive first!”

But the younger one had caught sight of me and tried to squirm out of Adam’s hold, his eyes widening and jaw dropping. “Adam brought a girl,” he said in clear disbelief.

I laughed—I couldn’t help it—especially when Adam rolled his eyes, dropping both the boys and putting his hands on their heads. “These two knuckleheads are Gareth and Dylan—we call him DJ. They’re my cousin Britt’s kids.”

DJ was still staring at me in wonder and approached me while his brother Gareth hopped into Adam’s car and started making pretend motor noises while tugging at the steering wheel. “Hi,” he said with a cheeky smile. “You’re pretty.”

“Well, thank you,” I said, laughing.

“Are you Adam’s girlfriend?”

“Uhh,” I said with a glance at Adam, who seemed more amused than embarrassed.

“Stop putting the moves on Emilia, DJ.”

DJ turned to his cousin. “Why’d you bring a girl? You never bring girls.”

“I’m sorry? Did you forget your cootie spray?” Adam said.

Soon, Adam was ushering me inside, leaving his cousins out in the driveway to pretend-drive the car with the strict instructions that they were not to touch the gearshift or the emergency brake. Clearly he trusted them, and that this was all the supervision they needed. I could hardly believe he’d let those kids fiddle around in that car, which was clearly worth a fortune.