She’s suffered so much since I left. Her haunted eyes hold secrets I’m scared of discovering. Why hadn’t Blaydon got in contact with me? I was selfish to leave him. We were best friends, and it’s only these last few months I even bothered to contact him. I hear a V8 engine roar to life outside and I spring from the chair I’d planted my ass into to look out the window. “Fuck me,” I mutter, looking at River sitting behind the wheel of a gorgeous red Mustang. I notice her watching an old Nissan pull up, and then Chelsea folds out from behind the wheel. There’s no comparison. Chelsea is the definition of easy; her short, tight skirt shows too much, her make-up is plastered on, she’s pouting and applying more crap to her face as she saunters up the path with River’s eyes burning a hole into the back of her head. I smile and go to the door to greet her. Her eyes devour my near-naked body, an undeniable sexual glint in her eye. Her fake nails rake down my body. I flick my eyes to River and usher Chelsea inside.
