Page 10 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

How many times have I told myself that? When I wake up achy and sober.

Then, I forgot to close my blinds. The sun is too bright. I don’t want to open my eyes.

But my mouth is dry as hell. I need some water. A line or two. And my phone, since I don’t remember going to my video shoot, and I know Grime is blowing my shit up.

But then again, my dream was… kind of nice. Rico was all in it, and even though he was way more mean than he usually is in my dreams, he still took care of me. Still holding me close to his chiseled chest.

I don’t wanna wake up from that. Especially since Cochise isn’t snoring in my ear, so I don’t have to play off moaning Rico's name out loud when dream Rico goes down on me.

Alas, real life calls. And the way my body is heating up, someone is waiting for me, glaring at me. Most likely Cochise or Grime. I don’t even feel like coming up with a lie, but I doubt they’ll believe I don’t remember how I even got home. I was just at brunch with the girls and Set, and I doubt they were partying with me.

My lids rise just a little, but I close them immediately. That can’t be right. I swear, it’s Rico standing by a window that doesn’t look like my own.

This time, I open my eyes slowly. Maybe I’m still dreaming or something.

Except… I’m not.

There he is. In the flesh. The man who haunts me to this day.

“What…?” I croak. “Where am I Rico?”

Because the sliding door he’s standing by isn’t in any house I’ve ever been in. And the beach behind him looks too perfect to belong in America.

It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to him. Even longer since it’s been just us in the same room. Gone is the roughneck who held my heart in his hands and squeezed it dry.

His buzz cut makes his angular jaw that much more severe. The gray tee stretches across hard shoulders and pecs. I can see them ripple when he folds his arms and narrows his eyes at me.

“You’re in Belize. When the sedative wears off completely, you’ll start withdrawals.”

My eyes stretch, but he keeps going.

“Welcome to rehab. If you can’t handle it, I’ll put you out of your misery, but either way, you’re done being a junkie whore.”

His words hit me like bullets. My hands fist the soft covers as I tear my gaze away from him.

Leave it to Rico to be brutally honest.

Junkie. Such an ugly word. A name I only call myself when I’m alone, picking which crevice between my toes to poke for the night.

An angry track mark in my arm gives me pause. I’d never be so callous to have my habits front row and center. My mind fights to keep memories out of the forefront like usual. For years I’ve fought against it as it shielded me from all the bad choices I’ve made despite having the best intentions, before I finally decided to give up.

But, whatever happened, I’m away from the fray. I won’t dare say I’m safe; I’d never be safe alone with Richard Alvarez. Especially with the way he’s looking down his nose at me.

Figures, he’d judge me. Like he’s so perfect. Like he’s done no wrong, ever in his life.

Hot rage floods me as I meet his steel gaze once again. How dare he?! How dare he stand there and act like he’s not the reason I need to be numb? And how dare he decide for me that now’s the time to raw dog life?!

“I hate you, Richard,” I spit with all the venom I have in my body.

He pushes himself onto his feet. “Good. Hold onto that, because believe me, Snow, I hate you, too.”

He turns to leave, and I swing my leg over the bed to the ground.

Why is my leg so damn heavy?

I lock onto the chain on my ankle and groan.

“Let me out of here!” I roar, before falling back onto the bed.