Lucky Strike Read Online Free Page A

me hard in the arm.
    “Sorry, but for someone who’s had a kid and is pregnant with another, your body is smoking hot,” I say rubbing my arm . Damn, she can pack a punch.
    Brooke gives me a sideways glance and a small smirk tugs at her lips. “Thank you. All right smart ass, let’s get you out of this pissed soaked hell hole.”
     

 
    I burst out the cantina doors, my knuckles throbbing in pain as I run down the dark street toward my apartment building. It’s one thing to know that Jackson is cheating on me, it’s a whole other story to catch him in the act, especially tonight of all nights.
    Jackson promised me a night out that would make me forget it was my birthday.
    Since I was thirteen, I’ve hated my birthday. That was the age I realized my birthday was just another excuse for my parents to throw a lavish party to impress their wealthy pretentious friends. I would be forced to dress up in some prissy frilly dress and pretend to be having a good time with their asshole kids. The only thing that got me through those awful parties was knowing that the second the party was over I could sneak over to Ryder’s house. We would spend the night watching movies cuddled up on his bed, and eating the birthday waffles that his mom would make just for me. It was pure bliss.
    I wish I could hit the rewind button and go back to the simpler times. When all I had to do was climb the ladder up to Ryder’s room and curl up in bed with him, just letting the bad shit fade away and be happy again.
    I make it back to my apartment. Closing and locking the deadbolt and sliding the chain in place. Knowing Jackson will be busting through the door at any moment, I run to the bathroom to clean my bloodied knuckles. The warm water and soap stinging the cuts from punching Jackson in the face after I found him in the ladies room balls deep in some random young tourist. He couldn’t even keep it in his pants even on my fucking birthday.
    Happy fucking birthday to me .
    After wrapping my hand in a bandage, I run over to my closet and grab the duffel bag I keep hidden in one of the ceiling panels. I started hiding money, my passport, and spare clothes in this bag the night Jackson first came home smelling like hooker pussy and tequila. Knowing one day, he would get bored with me again and leave. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be left penniless by that asshole again. I quickly change out of my bloody clothes then stuff a few more articles of clothing into my bag before grabbing my car keys.
    I start to reach for the doorknob when the door jerks open, coming to a halt by the chain.
    Fuck, it’s Jackson.
    “God damn, Nadine. Open this fucking door.” He’s seething mad and trying to grab at me through the small opening in the door.
    “Fuck you, Jackson,” I sneer back. He thinks me breaking his nose was bad just wait until he sees the rain of hurt I will put on him if he so much as lays a hand on me.
    He looks down at my bag then back up to me. “You think you’re leaving me, huh? No fucking chance. I fucking own your ass, Nadine.”
    “I’m not your fucking property, Jackson.”
    “The fuck you aren’t. You’re not going anywhere, you fucking bitch.” He jerks the door again trying to break the chain. Just as he reaches his arm through the gap, I slam the door on his arm as hard as I can. He screams out in pain then slumps down to the floor, cradling his arm against his chest.
    I hope it’s fucking broken.
    I run over to the slider door. Just as I open it, I can hear Jackson yelling out how I will never survive without him, and that I’ll be crawling back to him within a week. I made it on my own the first time he left me, and I sure as hell can do it again.
    I throw my bag over the balcony then carefully climb down to the neighbor’s railing and jump down to the ground. I sprint for the parking lot to my car. I look around making sure Jackson isn’t coming after me. I unlock the door and throw my bag inside then climb in