Read Online Never Wake by Gabrielle Goldsby - Free Book Online

pockets gave them that retro look. But unlike Sully, he knew how to complete the outfit. He found a leather belt that was so big it almost didn’t fit through the belt loops. He was on his way to Toppers. Everyone knew they had the best caps, and then he would go in search of the new Aaron Austin sneakers that he’d been saving his money to get.
    Jake thought about getting into one of the numerous cars with its owner still in it, but Dad had refused to teach him to drive until he was fifteen. He wasn’t scared of hurting anyone. They all might as well be dead anyway, but he didn’t intend to kill himself. Not now when he was free of them.
    His parents claimed they weren’t filthy rich. But he knew they could afford to buy him almost anything he wanted, but didn’t. They said he needed to “learn the value of a dollar.” Yeah, right. Like they’d had to. He knew for a fact that both sets of their parents had been rich, and that neither of them had ever wanted for anything. He was, he knew, an experiment to them. Just like everything else. They were insistent on doing it all by the book. “The book” said he couldn’t wear colorful shoes or baggy jeans because people might confuse him for a gang banger. That same book said that he had to save his allowance for ten weeks in order to buy his iPod. By the time he’d bought it, there was already a newer, better model on the shelf. He clenched his jaw as fresh anger coursed through him as he remembered taking his brand new iPod to school to show it off, and then Sully Tolliver shows up with a better model the next day. He hadn’t said anything to them about it. He’d just bided his time, and now, none of it mattered. He could pick up the new iPod after he got his shoes, if he wanted. Jake smiled as the cuffs of his pants swept along the sidewalk. Maybe he would pick up a frozen pizza and some beer while he was out.

Chapter Five

    By the time Troy finished shoplifting from the drug store, her ears, lips, fingers, and toes were rum-numb, but her brain refused to fog. The messenger bag that had held everything from chocolates sent by apologetic husbands to a huge box of maxi pads for the CEO of a floundering dot com, now held Percodan, Paxil, Ambien, and something she was pretty sure was just a sinus medicine, but she decided to take it anyway.
    She careened through the streets no longer bothering to look for oncoming dangers or to bother with the lights that seemed to turn yellow just when she reached an intersection. Her plan was to find one of those ritzy downtown restaurants that she had never been comfortable going to and pop pills and drink until the sun came up. And then, she hoped, she would sleep. Just like everyone else.
    Troy’s pedaling had slowed, and she found herself looking up at the brick facades of the buildings she passed. She wondered what kind of people had lived in them. She wondered if death would keep her from missing her rides along these streets. She didn’t see how it could. A tear crept down her face and ended up at the corner of her mouth where it tasted a lot like spiced rum and cola. A flash of light caught the corner of her eye. Troy flinched and braked hard.
    She had been blinded by sudden glares enough times to know that they could be caused by glass, mirrors, or anything shiny. The one constant was movement, and that was one thing, aside from a slight breeze that managed to snake its way down the city streets, she had not seen in four days.
    “You’re just seeing things because you want to see something,” she said, but hope was already welling in her chest like the rum tears that had spilled moments before.
    Ah, what the hell. Troy cupped her hand over her mouth and bellowed. “Hey, anyone up there?” Her voice sounded high pitched, scared, and drunk. She shivered and laughed. You fool; you’re seeing things. You haven’t found anyone awake in days. It was the wind.
    “So, that’s it then. Either I kill myself, or I go