“Did you touch that baggie on the table? What did I tell you about touching my things!”
“He’s your son! You deal with him!”
“You were a mistake I couldn’t take back.”
The noise inside my head overwhelms me with memories of the drug laced hatred my parents had for me every day for years before they eventually stopped talking to me—acting like I didn’t even exist, as we passed each other in hallways like strangers.
Hunched over the toilet, I gag, bile and alcohol burning my throat on their way up. Falling against the wall beside me, Ituck my knees against my chin and rock, focusing on the things around me—repeating the steps as I try to make the feelings go away.
Five things you can see.
Four things you can touch.
Three things you can hear.
Two things you can smell.
One thing you can taste.
I don’t know how long I’ve been here when I hear the door handle jiggle. Hurrying to wash my face and rinse my mouth, I side-step around the guy waiting when I exit. I take a deep breath as I enter the main area to look for Gabe.
It only takes a few seconds before I spot him across the room and my stomach twists into a knot at what I find—Gabe has his hand clenched around the front of some guy’s shirt and is whispering something in his ear. I can’t see Gabe’s face from this angle, but whoever this guy is, he has a grin plastered on his face, and his hands on Gabe’s hips.
Is he flirting with someone minutes after we fucked? After he told me I was “perfect”? Why did he bother bringing me here if he was going to be hitting on other guys? Did he just want to fuck me, and now he’s moving on to his next conquest? Just throwing me onto his list of groupies like the rest of them? But I did run off again in a panic—maybe he’s sick of my shit. Why wouldn’t he be?
My brain is racing faster than my feet can move. The bile begins to stir again deep in my gut as I rush out of the building before I either throw up all over someone, or even worse…Gabe sees me.
Chapter Fourteen
Why Does He Keep Running From Me?
Gabe
“And if you put your hands on me one more time, I will fucking break them. Do you understand me?” This kind of thing doesn’t happen here often, but some assholes don’t getyour polite hints to keep their hands to themselves. I’m usually not this adamant about it, but having Ender in my life now, I’m not even entertaining the idea.
“Okay, man. Take it easy.” The guy surrenders, his hands in the air as I push him away.
Once he’s out of my path, I continue looking for Ender. I check the restrooms and every unlocked room in the private section, but there’s no sign of him anywhere. I don’t think he’d leave without telling me, but then again, with his track record, anything is possible.
I call his phone as I search around the dance floor on the first level, but he isn’t answering. Did he even bring it with him? I text a couple of times—still nothing.
“Hey Steve, did you see the guy I came in with leave?” I ask the front doorman.
“He ran out of here a little while ago. I asked if he needed me to call an Uber, but I don’t think he heard me. Just ran down the block.”
Fuck!
I run to my car and take off without any clue where to look for him. I search the surrounding area while I keep texting and calling him.
Eventually, I lose hope that I’ll find him on my own, and resort to calling the only person who can possibly help.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“Luke, I need you to ask Kaden to check on Ender. He’s not answering my calls. Please don’t ask me to explain.”
“What did you do, Gabe?”
“Luke, just have him fucking call, please!” I’ve never raised my voice at Luke in the twelve years we’ve known each other.
