Free Real Ugly by C. M. Stunich

Stupid ass motherfuckers. Once it becomes a secret, it's hard to let it out. If you don't keep it inside to begin with, it doesn't get the chance to fester and rot. So, honesty is my policy. If it makes me a dick, so be it. “But now, yeah, I'd kinda like to fuck you.”
    “As long as you promise not to leave me half-naked with my panties down around my ankles,” Naomi says with a sarcastic smile, and then starts across the street. I follow after her and flip off a trucker who honks at us when the light turns green.
    “What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask her as I catch up and watch as she rolls her eyes at me. Naomi pauses at the island of cement in the center of the road and turns to face me with raised brows.
    “Wow. You don't even remember that girl, do you?” she asks, sounding disgusted. I look her up and down, take in her white wife beater, her black jeans and the high heels she's got on. Fuck me. If I don't scratch this itch soon, I'm gonna have the bluest balls in the fucking country.
    “That roadie chick? Yeah, I remember her. I'm not always shit faced, you know? I do have moments of clarity.” I flick myself in the head and run my tongue over my lips, letting her take in the stud and pretend she isn't interested. From what I gathered onstage last night, she wants me just as hard as I want her. She just doesn't know it yet. See, that's the fucking problem with keeping secrets. Once you've got a few, you get so addicted that you even start keeping them from yourself. Poor Knox. Good thing she's got me to liberate her. “Somebody walked in on us. Despite what you might've heard, I don't really like to have an audience.”
    Naomi's harsh laugh echoes through the darkness as she swipes off her shades and starts walking backward without even looking for traffic. It's a ballsy move, stupid, too. Fuck, I really do like this girl.
    “You stupid, motherfucking, piece of shit asshole,” she says as she sticks the sunglasses in her pocket and turns away from me, blonde hair whipping around in the hot, dry air. I take a deep breath and watch after her, feeling that anger boiling inside of me again. Something about her just pisses me off at the same time it gets me off. Jesus Christ.
    “What?” I ask, throwing my hands up in the air. Naomi Knox is strange as fuck. I thought I was an expert on women, but this one is out of my range of knowledge. “What the fuck is it now?”
    “That person that walked in on you,” she begins, stopping on the sidewalk and turning back to face me with a crooked smile, one that's sinfully wicked. “That was me, and I wasn't impressed.”
    Aw, fuck me.
    I start to move across the road after her and nearly get killed by a fucking semi carrying logs. Dirt and grit sting my eyes and push me back to the sidewalk as my heart frantically tries to explode from my chest. When I finally recover, Naomi's gone.
     

I'll admit, seeing Turner almost get turned into hamburger meat really fucked with me. There was this second there where I really thought he was going to die, and I was mad at myself for not telling him. Yeah, the emotion was premature and stupid as shit, but now I know that at some point, I have to hunt the devil down and tell him what he put me through. I've been dragging this shit around for far too long, and it's getting old. If I'm ever going to escape really and truly, I've got to dig up my dirt and bury him in it, too.
    I buy my cigs from the gas station and take them back to the bus where I search out Wren and score some coke off of him. It's not normally my drug of choice, but he's got plenty to go around and I need something to keep me up. Sleeping equals dreaming and right now, I've got nightmares in spades. Besides, a cocaine high sounds real good right now. I can tweak all over my guitar, blow some minds with my music. I play really good when I'm high.
    I lay out white lines on the table in the front and snort them in quick succession. Wren watches me from the