The small kernel of hope I’ve been holding on to grows a little larger. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”
And his eyes meet mine, the tension dissolving. “Thank you for being here. You don’t know what a relief it is to share.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
MADDOX
For the firsttime in over a week, I get to sleep at a normal hour. Then I turn over in bed and trap my healing wrist at the wrong angle, the pain instantly jolting me awake.
I get out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. Under the harsh lighting, my face is haggard. Insomnia has plagued me for years but now it’s on steroids. I think about taking some of the pills I had for Evie, wish I had more of the prepped shot I jabbed into her arm… then have to grip the sides of the basin as I sway on my feet, overcome with a pull of grief at losing her.
You didn’t lose her. You threw her away.
The initial fury has dissipated, leaving behind charred remnants of our whirlwind friendship.
In a year’s time, you’ll struggle to recall her name. In ten, you won’t even remember having a girlfriend in high school.
But the lie doesn’t even convince me.
I pull out some paracetamol and chew the tablets, taking enjoyment from the bitterness. The truth is I could live to a hundred and twenty, never seeing Evie again, and she’d still bethe girl filling my thoughts on my death bed. Forever the one I pushed away because I’m too scared and too broken to know how to mend what we have.
The anger is easier so the anger wins. Even if it’s eating me alive.
As I get back into bed, there’s a new fear. Everybody saw Zane defend her in the quad at lunchtime. Most probably, it’s just his protective instincts kicking in, not wanting to see her being attacked when just a fortnight ago, he was adjusting to our friendship.
Another thought lurks deeper, the idea he likes her. That his defence might be prelude to a courtship.
It won’t take a lot. He’s always on the lookout for his next fuck, lining up his targets in advance to maximise the chance they’ll suit his kink.
I know that’s not it. Neither one of them has ever given me a reason to expect them to hurt me like that, and it would be the ultimate betrayal. Yet the idea remains lodged in my frontal cortex, playing on a slideshow as I wait for the pain to retreat enough for me to get back to sleep.
The following day is Friday.The weekend is nearly here. Two days where I won’t have the torture of seeing Evie in all my classes, sometimes in the seat next to mine because the teachers insist no one change places.
Since that’s also the highlight of every school day, I’m torn.
“You want to hang out at mine tomorrow?” I ask in the clubhouse when we’re trying to gather the energy to go down to the quad and sort some lunch.
Wilder sits with Dahlia on his lap, both looking bored out of their minds. Zane is on his own, setting off another spark of concern he might be interested in pursuing forbidden fruit, an idea I quickly extinguish. It’s been over a week since his last hook up but that hardly counts as a dry spell. If it was Wilder, sure—that’d be reason to worry—but Zane’s attention goes in fits and starts.
“Nah,” Zane says, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m going along to Chezzers tomorrow night. Unless you want to hang out there?”
Both Wilder and I turn to stare at him, and I recover first. “You’re what?”
“Things can’t be that dire, man,” Wilder says with a confused laugh. “Or have you got a crush on one of the hotties?”
“Evie’s scheduled for tomorrow. I’ll be there lending support.”
Dahlia looks properly uncomfortable while Wilder just sticks with generalised confusion.
“Right,” I drawl, quickly clocking everyone’s expressions. “And is this to get a rise out of me? Because I got to tell you, if you’re that desperate, go ahead.”
“Not everything’s about sex,” he growls at me like the story of him fucking a sink off the wall isn’t still circulating around the school.
“Then what is it about?” Dahlia asks, quickly flicking a glance in my direction and adjusting her facial expression on the fly. “You’ve never shown an interest in the strip club before.”
“She’s a friend who’s going through a tough time and she needs someone in her corner. Her landlord creeps on her, and she pretends it’s okay but it’s obvious she’s frightened. I just want to be there to ensure nothing worse happens than her shaking some titties in his face.”
There’s a burst of concern that I quickly sublimate, lost in the confusion of trying to discern if he’s serious or not. Thanks toRobyn’s call, I already knew Evie had returned to work, but the landlord stuff is new. I can’t remember her talking about him to me at all.
