Crank Series: Crank Part 36

Brendan a thief?

Almost unbelievable!

Conservation was the key to seeing me through until morning when I cuold give Chase a call Conservation, in fact, might be the solution.

The solution to staying high and still maintaining my way through cla.s.s work, homework, and family dinners.

I knew I couldn't manage it straight.

Couldn't manage not to sink into a swamp of self-pity, quicksand for a fractured psyche.

Kristina crumbled.

I called for Bree.

Brain Waves

ping-ponging inside my skull, no hope of sleep or easy egress to a plane where memory could not intrude, I bent my head, submitting to shame.

Why had I gone? What had I done? Who would want me now? How could I deny the state of my being or my part in its disintegration? No way to elude the bitter bite of blame I tried to lay the night's events on anyone but myself.

Couldn't. I had tried to play Brendan, and he had turned the tables. He was a grand master player. I was new to the game.

The Game Replayed

over and over all night long, like a cable TV horror flick.

I laid in bed, memorizing every scene, every line, every plot twist.

Finally suns.h.i.+ne trickled through the blinds.

Dust danced in its beams.

The house filled with the everyday.

Footsteps.

Voices.

Coffee. Perfume.

Nothing new.

Nothing unusual.

Nothing, except me.

I whiffed a line of willpower.

Got up, got dressed in ratty clothes.

Hair unbrushed, ditto teeth, I went into the kitchen, poured hot black brew and lied about my date.

Answer Before They Ask

Great strategy. Mom didn't even snarl when I said I was too tired to go to Jake's soccer game.

Once I saw her tailpipe, I called Chase.

Thirty minutes later, he chugged up the driveway. One look, he knew.

What's the matter, Kristina?

"Too much fun last night. Come inside."

My mom might have accepted the lie.

Chase knew better.

You're buzzed. But there's more.

So much for deceit, for accepting blame.

So much for never telling a soul.

I broke down like rotting rafters.

Tell me what happened.

I told him everything, start to finish, in minute detail. He gathered me up, glued me back together.

That b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I'll kill him.

I shook my head, tossing tears and thin streams of snot. "It was all my fault."

Chase grabbed my shoulders.

No! Brendan knew what he was doing.

He pulled me so close it hurt, laid his head against my heaving chest.

Then hard-a.s.s Chase Wagner cried.

Oh, G.o.d, I'm sorry, Kristina.

I should have been there for you.

Stunned

I kissed his forehead, licked away his tears.

He looked up and his eyes told mine, I love you, Kristina.

Eyes couldn't lie.

Could they?

With sudden clarity, I knew, "I love you, too."

Don't say it unless you mean it.

Did I mean it?

Brendan was no more than a nightmare.

But, Giselle or no Giselle, what about Adam?

You could snap my heart in two.

I thought of the letter in my room, the one that had poured from me only hours before.

If I mailed it ...

It's bending now.

I s.h.i.+fted and the throb in my thighs reminded me of the "new" me.

"But what about ..."

Come on.

I'm not exactly chaste.

Chaste Chase?

A monster-fed giggle tried to slip out.

I relegated it to a tooth-baring grin.

You're so beautiful when you smile.

He kissed me then, so sweetly, I truly felt beautiful, despite the ugliness that would always remain.

No one can take you from you, Kristina.

Tears slipped from my eyes.

Chase absorbed every one, sponging up regret.

I promise never, never to hurt you.

I wanted him to prove it.

Needed him to prove it.

"Make love to me."

I could feel he wanted to.

I want to.

You know I do.

But not today.