I just wanted to scare him. I told myself that by doing so, I could force him to see reason.
I wanted to save Sawyer from the monster I’d made him out to be in my mind.
I failed.
The only monster here is me.
Noah’s calling.
I hear him.
I wish I could answer.
The lights are painfully familiar. Reds and blues, illuminating everything around us as we freefall toward darkness.
This is his nightmare.
I set the scene and made it all possible.
Noah’s calling, but I can’t respond.
I’m stuck.
I can’t do anything right.
I ache for more pain. I crave physical discomfort. I want nothing more than to find a distraction from the fallout of the damage I just inflicted.
He’s bleeding. She’s crying. In the distance, Noah is calling to me.
I can’t answer. I can’t do anything but subject myself to a purgatory of self-loathing. I want to hurt. I deserve the anguish. It should be me on the ground. It should be me spewing blood as the EMS team works to save my life.
Not even the shrill sound of Sawyer’s desperate scream is enough to make me lift my head or go to her. I deserve the embittered reaction of the woman I claimed to love. I deserve every painful, awful, fractured shard of sadness scratching at the edges of my consciousness and threatening to pull me under.
Chapter four
Noah
Along yawn escapes me, my mouth open so wide my jaw cracks. Dawn is breaking, the hazy first light of a new day infiltrating the cab of my truck as I ease onto the road that leads home.
It was a hell of a night. A fantastic show. One I almost missed because Meg wasn’t feeling up to it. I fought her and Mercer when they urged me to go, and now I’m thankful I did.
In the passenger seat, my best friend is asleep, with his mouth hanging open wide enough to catch flies.
We pregamed hard.
We post-gamed harder.
It’s a miracle we made it home before the sun has officially risen.
We’re no strangers to the abysmal parking situation at Blossom Music Center. We figured we’d take our time after the show.
What we didn’t count on?
Waiting so damn long for the lines of cars in front of us to drive through the grassy hills that we ran out of gas and had to walk nearly three miles to a gas station in the middle of the night.
At least the walk afforded us time to sober up.
I fight back a grin, only for it to morph into a yawn.
