Life Before Damaged, Vol. 1 Read Online Free Page B

together. “It might be, and Erin’s not that bad.”
    “Fine, whatever. It’s just that she always gets you into trouble, and then where…” Static cuts through the line and his voice fades in and out. I have no idea what he’s saying, but I know he’s still mad about Erin.
    I interrupt. “You’re breaking up. I can’t hear you.”
    He tries to answer, “Babe…they…come,” and then more static.
    “Anthony, you’re breaking up.” My phone beeps, making me look down at the screen. The battery flashes two percent. Aw, crap. Pressing it to my ear I hear him still trying to talk. “I can’t hear you. Don’t worry. I’m heading home, okay? The night was completely uneventful. A bust.” Lots of busts—in fact, it was boobfest of the year. I smirk and wish I could joke with him like that, but he’ll think I’m being crass.
    “All right, well, I just wanted to tell you goodnight. Who loves you?”
    I smile like a dork. “You do.”
    “Who’s my good girl?”
    “I am.” I roll my eyes at this little ritual. Anthony started it almost as soon as we met. If he were here, he’d kiss my cheek and pat my head. Other women might take that wrong, but he means well. “I love you. Don’t stay too late.”
    “I won’t be by in the morning. Sorry babe, work has been crazy. If I don’t get my shut-eye, I’m no good to anyone. I promise I’ll…and then…” his voice breaks as more static sizzles in my ear. He keeps talking even though my battery is beeping. I keep trying to tell him that the phone is going dead.
    “Anthony—”
    “This patient was really…” he keeps talking, like he can’t hear me at all.
    “Hey, my phone is—” Too late. It cuts him off mid-sentence and the screen goes black. Totally dead. Great. Looks like I’ll have to hail a cab. So much for the catch-a-cab app.
    I tuck my phone in the back pocket of my jeans and pad back toward the door. I pull on the handle and give it a big tug. It doesn’t move. The thing was sticking on the way in, so I yank again, throwing my whole body into the tug this time, but it doesn’t budge. My stomach drops.  
    "No. Nonononononono! This can't be happening!" Making sure the handle is turned properly, I pull on the door again but it still won't move.  
    My heart starts to pound at the frightening prospect of being locked in. I try to wiggle and jiggle the door some more, playing with the handle as much as I can, but my hands are getting sweaty and slipping. The door seems to be jammed from the bottom.  
    Oh, no. The facts hit me hard and fast, I must have slammed the door too hard when I came in and the metal pin slid back down into its hole in the floor. Banging my forehead on the door with a painful thump, I exhale loudly. This evening is just clusterfucktabulous.  
    What else could go wrong? Feeling my cell phone press into my butt from the rear pocket of my jeans, I get the answer to what was supposed to be a rhetorical question.  
    Damn it. I forgot that my battery is dead.  
    I can't call anyone for help.  
    Worst.  
    Party.  
    Ever.

KARMA IS A MEGA-BITCH

    9:02 pm

    “HEY!” I scream repeatedly at the top of my lungs, but the only response is the echo of the empty room.
    Pressing my forehead to the door, I curse myself for stepping over that pristine line I was taught to follow. Mother made it crystal clear that following the rules would make me happy. The one time I deviate, I get locked in a storage room. Karma is a mega-bitch.
    The music is blaring downstairs and although I doubt anyone can hear me, I start bellowing again. The thought of being locked in here when everyone leaves makes my skin crawl. Alone in an abandoned warehouse—no, bad plan. The thought of falling asleep on the floor and waking up to a rat gnawing on my face flashes in my mind. Goosebumps break out up and down my arms and I pound harder on the door.
    “HELP! IS ANYONE THERE?” My throat is on fire and my fists feel like they’ve been through a