Page 53 of The Carnage We Keep

Good sir, kindly relay to me your banking information, PIN code, and your mother’s maiden name, and I will by the grace of God transfer your rightful inheritance to you.

Unknown

Do you really think I’m fucking around right now? After what you did to my goddamn car?

Ooo, are we approaching “Lamiano flies off the handle” territory? Sweet.

Let’s push every button and find out.

Me

Kind sir, I have wonderful news, praise Jesus. If you are able to send me the activation codes from the back of 257 iTunes gift cards, I will be able to DOUBLE your windfall inheritance! Please, sir, do for me this task by ten o’clock this evening.

My phone rings.

I quickly deny the call and set my phone down to refocus my attention on Ari.

“Sorry, just this…thing.”

My phone dings again with a new text. Arianna giggles. “Well, well, well. When did you become Ms. Social Butterfly?

I make a face. “Never, and I never will. I hate being social.”

“Is there a reason you aren’t checking that text?”

I shrug. “Cause we’re talking?”

She nods and starts to say something. But just then, I go to shove my phone into my hoodie again, and my thumb must brush that stupid “talk” button because suddenly that asshole Siri starts to speak the last message I received.

“Unknown Number said: I’m done doing this over text. Come meet me tonight, if you think you can behave.”

I cringe, my face throbbing with heat as I fumble the phone and then silence it. The room goes quiet. Wincing, I slowly lift my eyes to find Ari grinning at me.

“My my myyyy,” she snickers, waggling her brows. “Was that a man?”

I swallow. “What? No.” I shake my head. “Definitely not.”

“Woman?”

I roll my eyes. “It wasn’t anyone.”

“Sure,” Ari smirks. “So, what, that was a collections agent asking if you could behave tonight? A telemarketer?”

I can feel my cheeks burning as I squirm on the couch.

“It’s...I mean…” I start to stumble over my words. “It’s just this…I⁠—”

“Bella.”

I jolt but then exhale slowly when Ari puts a hand on my knee.

“Hey,” she says, eyeing me. “Whatever and whoever it is, I’m proud of you.” Her gaze drops to the couch cushions between us. “I know dating or looking for that with anyone is…” Her shoulders lift as she slowly raises her eyes back to mine. “Well, it’s hard, after what we went through.”

Black ink bleeds into the edges of my psyche.

A numbness.

A poison emptiness that quickly fills with blinding, blood-red rage.