“Sorry, guys.”
With a deep breath—that only increases my nausea and does nothing to settle the sudden rapid beating of my heart—I allow resolve to gather in my alcohol-soaked veins. I’m doing this for everyone. I won’t be a burden to anyone else andhopefullyI’ll find some goddamn peace.
My shoulders stiffen and my hands fist at my side. With one final, deep breath, I take a step forward. I’m certain this is the right thing to do. Yet, as my foot finds no purchase, clarity shoots through the drunken despair. My arms shoot upward and start creating rapid little circles on either side of me—instinctually trying to give me balance. As I gasp in alarm, my head and heart bellow their objection to this decision.
What have I done?
“Rhett!No!”
I’m pitching forward, one foot over the edge and the other quickly losing balance as gravity yanks me down, when I hear Blair’s voice. It cuts through the panic that's quickly shifted into terror at the prospect of falling into the pitch black abyss below, and confusion blankets me. Is my subconscious coming in as Blair or?—
The back of my jacket is fisted and I find myself being yanked back onto the ledge. The momentum of the tug is so intense that I fall backward, knocking into the body behind me. Together we topple onto the ground only to slide back, away from the edge of the quarry thanks to all the mud. There’s sputtering, gasping, and the occasional swear as limbs untangle from one another. When I’m finally free, I lay there on my back staring up into the dark, rainy sky. It looks just like the black water I was about to plummet into.
ThatI. Was. About. To. Plummet. Into.The words are punctuated dramatically in my head, each one more saturated with horror than the last.
Holy fuck. I was about to kill myself.
That realization dawns on me the same time Blair’s face appears above mine as she climbs on top of me. My truck’s headlights shine just enough light through the rain that I can see her furious expression. I grunt as she slams both hands onto my chest.
“Rhett, what the hell were you thinking?!” she yells over the rain. She grabs the collar of my jacket and, to my surprise, lifts my back off the ground before shaking me violently. “What is wrong with you!?”
The nausea I was feeling earlier returns tenfold. It’s not just the alcohol making me sick—it’s what I was about to do. Before I can push Blair off so that I can turn and vomit, she lets go of me.
Suddenly, the barrel of a gun is pressed against the center of my forehead. My insides turn cold and the need to vomit is paused as my heart screeches to a stop.
“So you want to die?” she hisses just loud enough for me to hear.
Her eyes are pitch black in this lighting, her body rigid, and a cruel smirk pulls up one side of her mouth. She looks terrifying like this. Demonic almost. Especially as her wet hair falls oneither side of her face, casting shadows where none should be. She leans closer to laugh softly in my face.
“Fine, Rhett,” she laughs out, pressing the gun harder to my head. “Let me help you.”
I open my mouth to scream at her to stop, that I’ve changed my mind, but I can’t get my tongue to unstick itself from the roof of my mouth in time. The sound of the gun going off sends a wretched wave of shock and regret, horror and defeat through me. I squeeze my eyes shut, expecting pain or the sudden pull on my soul as I’m tugged out of existence into whatever comes next.
The only pain that erupts is deep within my right ear where the sound of the gun was the loudest. As mud splatters all over my face, a ringing in that ear starts up. Before I can open my eyes, the barrel of Blair’s gun is pressed against my soaked white shirt, right above my heart.
“One to the head,” Blair whispers. “Two to the chest.”
I shout in terror as the gun goes off again, twice this time. More mud goes flying. She hasn’t shot me, having moved the barrel to right beside our bodies but the force of each bullet slamming into the ground right beside me is felt.
“Blair, stop! Enough!” I cry out, blindly trying to shove her off of me.
She slaps my hands away before her palm cracks against the side of my face, stunning me. My head flings back, landing in soppy wet grass. I stare up into the dark clouds and rain, wondering how the hell this night had turned on me so quickly.
“One more shot. Might as well take these from you since you’re not using them,” she sneers.
Weakly, I lift my head up to see what she’s talking about. She holds my gaze as she swings the gun around to point it directly between my legs. Understanding dawns on me too slowly.
“NO!”
Blair smirks then pulls the trigger.
The gun goes off and… I piss myself. She hadn’t even looked before shooting at my jewels. I’m not sure if I’m more scared or humiliated, but I know I’m pretty sure I’ve never felt either one as vividly as I do now.
“Y-you’re a psychopath!” I stammer out as I regain the ability to speak.
I try to buck her off again but she doesn’t budge. Not even an inch. When that doesn’t work, I reach up to push her but Blair simply slaps my hands away then slaps me across the face once more. The back of my head hits the muddy ground again. I lay there, breathing hard with a painful ringing in my ear and my heart racing. Reality is crashing down on me and I’m drowning under the intensity of how fuckingfuckedmy head has been these past few days.
I nearly died.
