Fractured by Lisa Amowitz Read Free Book Online

watch, he seemed to have money to burn.
    She just was on the brink of flunking out of the Fashion Merchandising Program at the Fashion Institute of Technology. It wasn’t what she’d thought it would be and it was only a matter of time before she had to suck it up and admit to her parents that she’d blown her so-called big chance. She’d always figured that it was just a stepping stone anyway, that she was destined to be a model or an actress. But if she didn’t act fast, she’d be packing up her dorm room and heading home on the first bus back to Tennessee. Which was as good as nailing her in a coffin and throwing dirt on it.
    â—†
    I shot out of the vision like a swimmer gasping for breath after nearly drowning. The room around me wavered faintly behind watery darkness, sounds echoing in pulsating reverberations.
    â€œHello?” I called. But no one answered.
    My body pressed into the couch like giant hands were trying to push me back under. The ring burned the flesh of my palm. Only seconds passed before I was sucked back under like I’d stepped into quicksand.
    â—†
    â€œWhat’s your name?” the girl asks.
    â€œMy friends call me Nero,” the guy says, smiling. “But you can call me Zero.” He’s young and really pretty. Maybe even a model himself.
    Her head is spinning. “Is that your real name?”
    â€œAlso rhymes with Hero. Does it matter, if I’m going to make you a star, Brittany?”
    She giggles, then hiccups, a little bit of throw-up in her mouth. Her stomach is starting to roll.
    â€œI don’t really feel that well. I want to— I don’t want to drink anymore.”
    â€œJust another sip, Brittany. Don’t you know that success doesn’t come without sacrifice?”
    There is a cold edge under her tipsiness. A vague warning. She rifles through her bag for her phone, just in case, but comes up empty. She feels full-on sick now, like her insides are doing back flips.
    The man lunges for her. The limo keeps moving, the world outside the tinted windows a crazy blur. She has no idea where she is or where this guy is taking her, but she is so not going to let this be the end of her.
    â€œStop the car!” she screams, but the man is all over her. He’s hurting her, one hand under her dress, the other pressing into her windpipe so she can barely breathe.
    She finds the ring inside her bag, slips it onto her middle finger, and slashes her hand out as hard as she can. It opens a gash across his nose and cheek. Enraged, the man screams and flails at her with both fists. She grabs one of his hands and bites down hard.
    The car comes to a sudden halt. The door opens and she tumbles out, unsure if she jumped or if she was pushed. She tosses her shoes away and runs into the night, as fast as she can.
    â—†
    Someone pulled at my hand, but I held onto the ring, my grip iron, because if I let go I’d drown for sure. Trapped in flickering half-light, there just didn’t seem to be enough air to fill my lungs. And then, I was sucked under again.
    â—†
    The scent of lavender suffuses the air.
    A man stands with his back to the woman on the bed, adjusting his collar.
    â€œDid you really think I wouldn’t find out?” The woman carefully files her nails while occasionally glancing up at the man.
    â€œI didn’t care, actually. And you’re in no position to complain.”
    â€œYou’re such a bastard.”
    â€œSo what are you? Joan of Arc?”
    The man stares at his seventh wife in the mirror, picks up his ring, the one that had been in his family for generations, from the dresser, slips it on his tan finger, and walks silently out of their bedroom.

12
    Jeremy
    Saturday: 3:15 AM
    B obby Pendell’s eyes rolled crazily around like loose marbles, his whole body jumping and twitching as if he was bacon on a griddle.
    â€œHe could choke on his own saliva,” Marisa said, turning him on