I take in his body, his only clothing a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his narrow hips, his defined V fully on display. I can make out the softness of his dick behind the fabric. Normally, I would blush at what we’ve done in bed, but all I can think of is what he did with Lucy last night.
“Grave!” I fall to his side in the center of the room. His eyes are closed, and his lips parted. “Grave, wake up!” I shout, tears burning my eyes.
Jasmine falls down next to me and pulls her cell out of her pocket.
I cry as I touch his neck with shaky hands. His skin is clammy and pale. Please don’t be dead. “What did you do, baby? What did you take?”
I wanted to wake him up. Scream at him. Pound on his chest and ask,What the hell do you think you’re doing?Why do you waste your life?But I didn’t. I learned an important lesson last night—they don’t call him Grave for nothing.
“Are you even sorry?” I ask, breaking the awkward silence.
His eyes come back to mine, but he doesn’t answer.
I nod, getting my answer. Bending down, I grab my phone off the floor, then turn toward the door. His hand lands on my upper arm, stopping me from leaving. I almost cry out from his touch alone. I put my head down, staring at the floor as tears burn my eyes.
He gently turns me around and lifts my chin for me to look at him. My eyes shoot to the left, staring at the wall, not wanting to make eye contact.
“Did I hurt you?” he questions roughly.
Just my pride.“No,” I growl, mad at myself. That first tear runs down my cheek, and I bite my bottom lip in shame that I let him affect me this much. That I care that he stood me up to get high and screw his fuck buddy. The one that he lied about not fucking anymore.
He releases my arm to cup my face with one hand, wiping away my tears with his thumb.
My eyes finally meet his, and he stares down at me, giving nothing away. He’s hiding behind a towering wall. I glance down and see a pill bottle in his other hand. The same one I found on him last night when I tried to shake him awake. When I screamed his name, and no one helped me. Only Jasmine seemed to care he wasn’t responding. She was just as frantic as me.
“Why do you do it?” I ask, my voice shaking. I feel like I was blinded to the real him. To what he wants. It was all a lie, and I believed it. Last night opened my eyes. It’s not hard to figure out this is his lifestyle. Last night wasn’t just a onetime hangout with friends. How many times have I been with him, and I didn’t know he was high? Is he just that skilled at hiding it? Or am I just that blind?
He shatters my heart with three words. “To feel alive.”
There was no confusion. He knew exactly what I meant. And that scares me more than his answer. Anger takes over my heartache. What he’s done. To me. To himself. I slap him across the face, the sound bouncing off the walls in the quiet room.
His head snaps to the side. “April…”
I slap him again. Harder. His eyes squeeze shut. “Did you feel that?”
He straightens, running a hand down his face, his bare chest rising and falling fast.
My hand stings, and his face now shows two handprints of mine. I slap him again.
“Stop!” he shouts, gripping my wrists and slamming my back into the door, making it rattle. His drug-hazed eyes glare down at mine. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I don’t.” The words get caught in my throat, and my bottom lip trembles, trying to keep it together. “I kneeled on a floor last night, Grave, begging you to open your eyes. I cried for you not to be dead,” I choke out. “Do you know what that feels like?” It doesn’t take much effort to yank my wrists free of his hold. He’s weak, his body tired. Drugs will do that to you. Drain you of everything you have. I shove at his chest.
He takes a step back from me. “I don’t remember anything from last night.”
That makes me even more pissed. “You forgot we had a date? That you stood me up?”
“No,” he barks. “I remember we had a date planned. I just don’t remember how I ended up with Lucy.”
There she is again. She just stood there like a deer in headlights.
“Lucy, what did he take?” Jasmine demands, still kneeling next to me as I sit on the floor with Grave’s body pulled into my lap, his head in my hands.
I cry, shaking him. “Please wake up.”
“Lucy,” Jasmine shouts, jumping to her feet. She holds her phone in one hand with Titan on speakerphone. “What in the fuck did he take?”
“He… he… a pill bottle…” She sobs. Like she cares that he’s dying before our eyes. She was literally snorting a line of coke off a compact mirror when we burst into the room.
