Wanted For Pleasure

Chapter Seventy-five: the bachelorette

"Stronger than lover's love is lover's hate. Incurable, in each, the wounds they make."

Morgan Ann Bennett

I stepped through the sliding glass door to hear X on the phone better.

"Yeah, I can hear you now. What did you say?" I talked with one finger plugging my other ear.

"I said Malcolm is fine, they'll release him in the morning."

"Awesome." I couldn't have said that anymore sarcastically.

"Be at Malcolm's getting ready before he's home in the morning. I'll check in later."

"You really don't have to." I gritted my teeth, ending the call.

One more day, Morgan, one more day, I told myself in my head.

With a sigh, I was ready to walk around the in-ground pool and head back inside but someone suddenly grabbed me from the back.

"Congratulations." Chris teased, kissing my cheek. His lips were wet and warm and he held me with one arm, the other holding his second nearly empty bottle of beer.

"Shut up," I nagged, rolling my eyes back as I swayed with him on the cement.

"You're going to look so beautiful in your wedding dress. Should I— should I bring a plus one?"

I elbowed him in the stomach. "If you want her to die."

He laughed and released me but made me do a spin first.

"I love you," he said before a kiss. "I need you to know that."

"I do," I said, eyes on his. "And I love you."

I pecked his lips once more and then smiled against them.

"Give me some!" I reached for his bottle and started a whole wrestling match.

Chris started to tickle my rib cage and I got hysterical.

"Guys," Izzy suddenly appeared. "get in here, look at this."

I pushed Chris away from my body and blew a raspberry at him. "Not fair."

We walked inside together, kicking each other's butts and knees in, trailing Izzy.

What was just a rager of a "bachelorette party" before I stepped outside became what looked like and was as quiet as Sunday school.

Once Chris and I sat in the living room with everyone else, Mary unmuted the live tv.

"—We're outside of Penshaw's restaurant, The Q, where citizens protest against the owner, Malcolm Jameson." A news reported announced.

"OUR KIDS DESERVE TO DIE OLD!" A local yelled into the mic.

"What? What happened? Turn it up." Chris demanded.

I swallowed hard, unsure what to expect.

The anchor went on. "A record number of teenagers have overdosed in the past year, citizens blame this on Jameson who is reportedly in the hospital tonight. Just months ago, he himself suffered an overdose, luckily for him, it wasn't fatal. Not luckily for the Adams family, though, they're fifteen-year-old daughter, Maya, has just been announced dead from a fatal dosage of cocaine. Witnesses who were at the party with Maya say she was laced, others say she mistook it for something else as other party goers had crushed ecstasy and inhaled that."