“I’m losing my mind.” My heart rate ratchets higher and higher, fighting to stomp its way out of this hellfire.
I glance around. We’re in a private room. I’m in a hospital bed, and she’s perched on the edge of it, by my hip. I have an IV in my arm. At least those barbaric overhead lights are off and there’s a lamp on. But the fact that I have only a fuzzy recollection of how I got here only enhances the insanity claim.
She dabs my forehead with a cool cloth. “It’s the head wound, and the trauma, and the fact that you haven’t slept in more than twenty-four hours and not much the couple of days before that. You probably haven’t eaten either.”
“I threw up on Jax,” I groan. “That’s worse than Maddox seeing me vomit, and I was barely over that.”
“Jax didn’t care. He actually claimed to like your brand of crazy the best.” She chortles, her adoration for him shining through.
“That makes sense, I suppose. He told me he loved that I was dark lavender once, when I was wearing all black and disgruntled about my family, so …”
“That sounds like him,” she agrees. “He has a unique perspective on everything. He also wanted you to know he has a joint with your name on it.”
Of course he does.
I stare at her, trying to decipher whether she’s coddling me and holding back life-altering information. “I told my family that if Maddox died, they’d be dead to me.”
My admission arrives with a hollowness I can’t mask because I meant it with every cell of my being. And I’m terrified.
She uncaps a water bottle, handing it to me, and waits until I drink to respond. “You’ve been maintaining a simmer for years, enduring snide comments and judgment with more grace than most people could muster, all while trying to be there for them. You were bound to boil over eventually, and today was the type of day to provoke it.”
Taking the water back, she sets it aside and fixes my blanket. She’s fussing over me, nervous I’m going to crack. I might. Well, I suppose I already have.
My lip quivers, so I clamp my teeth onto it and rip off the Band-Aid, asking what I can’t bear to know. “Is he gone?”
“No,” she gasps, pressing her palm to her chest. “Oh, I should’ve said that right away. I didn’t realize that’s what you’d thought.” She squeezes my hand, and all the air in my lungswhooshesout. Her face is empathetic but also twisted, like she’s staring at a ticking bomb. “He was struggling, but they stabilized him, and they’re dealing with the internal bleeding.”
That’s plainly sugarcoated. Another scream begins crawling up my esophagus, but I thwart its ascent and challenge her.
“Axel looked—”
“Upset. Terrified,” she cuts me off. “That was a half hour ago. He was back there, getting an update, when things went from bad to worse. He feels terrible that you saw him like that.”
Maddox’s pointed questions and promise from after my migraine flood me.
“Who lets you break? You act so unshakable, and you’re always the one taking care of people. … I can be that for you.”
He was right that I rarely unravel. Maybe that’s why I’m having a veritable breakdown. Axel and I are so different, but in that regard, we’re very similar.
“He shouldn’t feel bad about being sick at the prospect of something … Of course he is. And I don’t want him or any of them trying to be strong for me. I am so sorry that I’m such a mess.”
“Well, the same goes for you, so don’t apologize.” Her shoulders droop with a heavy exhale as she shoves tangible sugar at me in the form of Pixy Stix.
I don’t hesitate, dumping the cherry powder onto my tongue.
She downs one of her own before sobering. “This is going to sound so screwed up, but Axel is always worried that they’ll fall for someone who won’t love them back. It’s an old wound from their mom and dad, and he gets really stressed about it. Even with me and all the history I had with Ryker and their family, he was still cautious. This really goes for all of them, Ryker, Cash, and Jax included. They aren’t happy that you’re falling apart, but they are grateful that Maddox has someone who loves him. I mean, I …”
“It’s okay,” I assure her when she stammers on that final sentiment. “I do love him. So much. We really should have seen this coming. He’s always made me fucking crazy, and now I’m certifiable.”
We both laugh through tears, and it feels wrong but necessary. Even though it’s fleeting.
Reality crashes into me seconds later. I killed five people today. I didn’t give it a second thought until now. I really am untethered. I’d murder five more if it meant Maddox survived—five more despicable assholes anyway. That seems to be the extent of my moral compass.
My affliction spills down my cheeks as I look at myself—beat up and bloodstained. “I’m a disaster.”
Mercy gestures to the bathroom and a stack of clothes she must’ve brought for me. “That IV is almost done. I’ll call the nurse. Then we’ll get you cleaned up.”
It’s been twelve hours since Mercy helped me change. My black dress was soaked through with blood. The entire thing was so saturated that the material took on a different hue, but wasn’t quite visible within the dark shade. That must be why my family didn’t freak out about that specifically, but my skin beneath it was stained crimson. It took quite a bit of vigorous scrubbing to rid it, and all my mind could focus on was whether it was Maddox’s blood or the guy whose throat I slit.
