“Get in the fucking room, Alex,” he rasps out as he turns the handle and pushes the door open. His tone is rough, commanding. The switch in my brain wants to flip, but I’m too overwhelmed. Obedience is harder when I’m overwhelmed.
And because I’m me, of course I say some stupid shit.
“Make me,” I choke out, tilting my chin up in defiance.
Just as I think he’s going to tell me to fuck right off, because I’ve gone too far, he calls my bluff.
He grabs me by the throat and shoves me inside my room, walking in after me.
Chapter Nineteen
Jordan
Alex stumbles into the room, pure devastation on his face. I have no idea what is wrong with him, but something inside of me wants it. It’s so fucked up and makes no sense, but I’ve had too much alcohol to care. That’s a whole other problem. I keep doing all these stupid things when I’m drinking. I should lay off the alcohol before I do something really fucking stupid.
Although, as I realize where I am and what’s going on, I think I already have.
I’m not sure what is going to happen here tonight, in his room, but whatever it is, neither of us are going to come out the same on the other side.
That doesn’t stop me, though.
I stalk toward him. Though he isn’t much smaller than me, there is something about him that is so small and fragile. Broken, maybe.
On the outside, Alex is all laughs and fun and not giving a shit. On the inside? I’m pretty sure he’s more fucked up than me.
I step closer to him, and though he looks confident, standing there with his chin held high, I see how weak he really is. Not in the sense that he’s incapable, but in the sense that he’s hurting. I don’t plan on fixing him. I can’t even fix myself; there’s no way I can do that for him, but maybe if we have just this one night, it’ll be a starting point for him. Maybe for me, too. Because if this shit with Alex has taught me anything about myself, it’s that I need help, too. I can’t keep going on warring with myself like I have. This realization is new, but thoughts of Vegas haven’t left me alone since I’ve gotten back. I don’t want to live my life questioning everything about myself.
Growing up, my life was shit. My sister wasn’t around. My father left when I was ten. My mother has a laundry list of mental illnesses that she’d rather medicate with street drugs and vodka. I knew that well before my father left, which meant when he left, I knew I was fucked. All I could do was survive.
I carefully bring my hand up to cup Alex’s cheek. He whimpers as his eyes fall shut, and he leans into my hand, desperate for something. I don’t know if it’s me,orsomeone, but I’m the one who’s here right now and seemingly the one who needs to take control.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I say in a raspy whisper.
Alex’s eyes pop open, the green dark like a forest on a moonless night.
“Welcome to the club,” he manages to say, giving me a fake smile.
“Don’t do that.” I shake my head, and his eyes narrow. “Don’t pretend to be someone you’re not. Don’t put on a happy face when you’re not happy, Alex.”
“Then I’d be grumpy all the time. Like you.”
I shrug. “I’m not so bad.”
“So I’ve noticed.”
He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. My thumb brushes along his cheek and it’s softer than I thought it would be.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“That’s a loaded question,” he says.
“If I walked out right now. Would you be okay?”
I hold his gaze as I wait for him to answer. His eyes flick back and forth from mine.
“No.”
I’m grateful for his honesty, even if it scares the shit out of me. Because when I say my father left when I was ten, I mean he left by killing himself. He didn’t walk out the door, giving me a chance to find him again and makepeace with the fact he left me withher.No, he made sure I was stuck with her for good. Made sure I was the one who had to take care of her. He ended his life because he wasn’t okay, and so I’ve had to make sure I’m okay my entire life. Even when I’m not, I am. Because that’s how you survive. It’s how you get by. Being weak gets you nowhere but six feet in the ground.
