Then the door opens and Evie walks in, eyes widening in disbelief. “Ant! What’re you doing?”
She runs to me, cupping my face, mouth twisting in distress as she puts her body between us.
Choosing me.
I give him a gloating glance over her shoulder as she fusses, grabbing a tissue to sop up the worst of the blood, stroking my hair.
“It’s not what it—”
“Sit down and shut it,” she snaps at him, turning, face pinched tight. “You promised you were going to behave. That you were going to do what they told you.”
Evie turns back to me, tears welling. I pull her into a long hug, then cup her face, kissing her, a kiss made all the sweeter when I open my eyes and see Ant glaring daggers at me, back against the wall for support to keep standing.
“It’s nothing,” I assure her. “Just nerves. Addie was the same when we tried to get her into treatment. Threw a massive tantrum because she was scared.”
“But your poor face.” She turns around, slapping her brother on the back of his hand. Scolding, “I don’t understand you. He’s trying to help. We both want you to get better. Why would you…?”
And the tears catch up to her until she can’t stop.
“Come on,” I whisper to her. “The staff can take it from here.”
She nods, looking completely miserable.
I jerk my chin at Ant. “See you in a month.” As I lead his sister from the room, he slides down the wall, curling his knees to his chest as he hits the floor.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EVIE
The flight homeshould be as much fun as the one down to Dunedin, but I sit in my chair, a nervous wreck, wanting to apologise for Ant, knowing it won’t make a difference.
“I don’t want you staying in your flat, alone. It’s not safe there.”
A nervous flutter hits my stomach. “Yes, it is. We’ve been there for seven months and never had a problem.”
“How many nights have you spent there alone?”
I shake my head, not wanting to give him the answer because it’s none. None at all. Ant always makes it home to me. I always make it home to him. Even if some nights we barely speak to one another, we are always there for each other.
After spending so many years separated, the best part of any day was being able to come home to someone I love. To my real family.
I hate spending time alone, but I don’t understand the weird energy pulsing off Maddox. My mind is at breaking point from the last twenty-four hours. I want to curl on the sofa and listento an anecdote about one of Ant’s acquaintances. He has a neverending stock of unbelievable tales that I readily accept as one hundred percent true.
Since that’s not a possibility, second best is to curl at one end of the sofa and think about how nice it will be when he’s home. When I don’t have the anxiety of wondering if he’s sick, if he’s fallen in with the wrong crowd, if this time the wrong mix of the wrong drug ended up in the wrong vein.
“I got a room for you,” Maddox says, voice breaking into my thoughts like an intrusive memory. “There was a dorm room free at school. I thought it would be more convenient.”
Something heavy lands on my chest, making it hard to breathe. “They have waiting lists, don’t they?”
He shifts on the seat, nervous. “I put your name down for one a few weeks ago.”
And I feel guilty for wanting to turn down his offer. He’s nice. He’s generous.
He’s a liar.
He’s thoughtful and kind and opened his life to me, making everyone else scrunch up so I could fit right inside.
What am I going to do? Fight him for the privilege of going back to an unkempt flat with overpriced power and insufficient facilities? The fact I’m even considering it proves there’s a screw loose in my head.
