Life of the Party (Wayward #1)

CHAPTER 45

I was actually disappointed at first, like I’d been expecting my brain to explode from a mind-ravaging high or something. Grey did his line, and then we lit a smoke, leaned back against the headboard and just…waited for it to hit. Grey flipped on the TV, and we laughed together as the UFC slowly warmed into view.

I still didn’t feel anything. I thought maybe the line Grey made for me was too small. But then, I began to notice it.

It started small; I could feel it creeping up on me—slowly, building in intensity. I reached down for Grey’s hand and laced my fingers through his, glad he was with me, happy to be sharing this with him. He turned over towards me and propped his head on his hand, studying my face, his blue eyes eager as they swept over me.

“I want to watch.” He smirked. “I want to know the moment you feel it.”

I nodded, but I suddenly found it hard to speak. Wave after wave of warmth was crashing over me—blissful heat, the perfect temperature, pouring all over my body—loosening my muscles until they felt weak and heavy, beyond the point of relaxed. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it hit me; I just knew I felt it, and it seemed like I’d felt that way forever. I melted back against the bed, unbelievably tranquil, overwhelmingly comfortable, snuggled on a cloud of the softest, warmest air.

Nothing mattered then, just like Grey said. Not Riley, not the pain.

Nothing but how good I felt.

Grey was kissing me, his lips brushing over my face. I tried to smile for him.

“It’s good, isn’t it?” His voice was low in my ear.

“Yes.” I couldn’t raise my voice above a whisper. I nodded weakly. “Yes… ”

Time passed. I had no idea how much time, but it felt like ages. We didn’t talk much. There wasn’t much to say. I was perfectly content just to lay there, to let the warmth have its way, to shut my eyes and let my body soften, like butter, against the mattress in total, euphoric apathy. I didn’t have a care in the world. There wasn’t one thought that could interfere, not one emotion that could penetrate the heroin’s silky embrace, the velvety soft blanket that was draped over me. It was like heaven.

Then I felt something else. I felt sick. My eyes fluttered open as my stomach twisted with a sudden surge of nausea. “Grey?” I forced myself out of bed, amazed I had the strength to stand. I clutched my stomach as it lurched and hurried towards the bathroom.

“It’s okay,” Grey called to me from the bed. He could hardly open his eyes. “You’ll feel better…after…”

I barely made it to the toilet. My body heaved as I retched, trying to purge the poison from my system, emptying my insides over and over again. Even the vomiting felt good, though, in its own way. When the tremors finally receded, I collapsed on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, sweaty, shivering from the effort as the racking nausea faded at last.

“Hey, Mackenzie, you okay?” Grey leaned heavily against the door.

I nodded in response but couldn’t bring myself to move. He came and helped me up off the floor. I was weak and shaky, but I still felt amazing—not as high as I had been, but weighty and sedated, heavy and warm. We crawled back into the bed. Everything felt so right again, so perfect…the temperature of the room, the soft mattress beneath me. The sickness was completely forgotten. I lit a cigarette and smoked it slowly, then lit another, and another. Perfectly happy. Perfectly content.

Cocaine didn’t last me fifteen minutes. This high lasted for hours, like a long, languid bath that never ended; full of warm, fragrant water that never cooled.

Heroin was it. A contented smile curved my lips. This was what I’d been looking for all along, the secret the world had been keeping from me. I turned to Grey, who was nodding off beside me, nearly overcome by the euphoric surge of love I felt for him, the total gratitude for sharing with me this pleasure, this secret.

He’d found something I didn’t know was missing.

And suddenly couldn’t live without .

When I awoke the next morning, my first thought was of heroin. The depth I longed for it actually kind of scared me. Logically, the sheer intensity of my craving should’ve been enough to keep me from ever doing it again. I needed more, though. I could feel the loneliness again, creeping on the edges of my mind. Once we awoke, groggy and irritable from the lack of sleep and the night spent tossing and turning in an itchy, uncomfortably hot slumber, Grey made some more lines from the dope left over, and I snorted it back without a second thought.

This time it hit me in the elevator. Grey was taking me somewhere; I didn’t know where, but we were up and dressed and out the door when I felt the creeping waves descending. I smiled knowingly at Grey, shutting my eyes and letting them have me. He led me, blissfully numb and euphoric, through the lobby of the hotel and into the awaiting cab. Everything after that was a perfect, hazy blur. I can remember how good Grey’s warm hand felt in mine…how the grey, dismal colours over the dreary, rainy city were beautiful to my eye…how the cold, brisk breeze couldn’t touch me, how… amazing it felt to be so content, so utterly satisfied and comfortable.

Grey took me to the studio. I was pleasantly surprised when we pulled up in front of the red brick building, even more so when I discovered all the guys were there, the whole band, recording away. It was really good to see them after so long. I sat on one of the black leather couches that stretched the length of the room and nodded in and out of the conversation, a soft, joyous smile on my face as the guys talked and laughed and filled the room with a happy buzzing din—the perfect background noise to accompany the peaceful quiet of my mind. It didn’t escape my notice that some of my friends were nodding off as well, on heroin—and I felt so united with them, so in tune, closer to them than I’d ever felt before. The only person I didn’t care to see was Zack, but he proved easy to ignore. Most of the time, he was up in the sound booth, wailing away on his guitar.

Then Grey got up to sing. The moment his husky, low voice hit my ears, I sat up, totally aware, and then stood so I could watch him. Grey smirked when he noticed me, his blue eyes intent, his voice draping over me as he sang, melting my heart, making my breath catch in my throat, stealing my very soul with its impossible beauty.

I bit my lip and let the radiating love I felt for him fill me to the point of tears. I mouthed it to him through the glass. I love you, Grey. I love you.

It was over all too soon. Before I knew it, before it seemed possible, we had to leave so I could make my flight back home. I held Grey’s hand as tightly as I could, reluctant to let him go for even a second, knowing we’d be separated by hundreds of miles in just a few short, precious hours.

We went back to the hotel so I could pack my things. Grey sat back on the bed while I ran around the room, collecting my clothes and makeup and hurriedly shoving them into my bag, partially packed from my Riley-panic the night before.

When I was done, he pulled me down onto his lap, wrapping his strong, warm arms around me. I melted against him, shutting my eyes and breathing deeply the delicious smell emanating from the warm base of his throat.

“So, Mackenzie.” His voice was low in my ear, sending shivers down my spine. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“The best.” I nodded. “Thank you, Grey. This was the greatest present ever.”

“I can agree with that.” He bent down to kiss me. I wove my fingers through his short, messy, dark hair, pulling him closer, kissing him like it was our last.

“I don’t want to go,” I admitted. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“If all goes well, it’ll only be another week. Maybe two, tops.”

“Yeah.” I sighed miserably. The heroin high was all but over…the warmth had faded away, a heavy weariness settling into my bones, a dull achiness in my muscles, a pang of sudden loneliness overshadowing the happiness I’d felt all day.

“Hey, don’t be sad.” Grey brushed the hair back from my face. His blue eyes gleamed as he pulled a little baggie out of his pocket. “How about a hit for the road? It’ll make this whole parting thing easier.”

“You know me too well.” I grinned. “I’m going to need all the help I can get.”

“You’re not the only one.” He smiled. “But no more after this. This shit is way too easy to get hooked on to do every day.”

“But, we can still do it like, every once in a while, can’t we?”

Grey nodded. “I think so. On special occasions and stuff.” He shrugged. “I don’t see why not, as long as we’re smart about it.”

“Yeah.” I nodded eagerly, ready to agree to anything if it got me more heroin now. I looked forward to the dense warmth and blissful apathy that would accompany me on the plane ride home, the warm nothingness that would fall on me like a blanket of utter contentment, covering the pain that came from leaving Grey behind.

I watched as he cut the lines. I did mine quickly—he gave me a little more this time, and then he sniffed his back. We sat for a moment, smiling widely at each other, the air thick with anticipation as we waited for the high to settle into our bones .

The airport was busy, and noisy, full of the typical chaos of people coming and going and greeting and saying farewell. I stood with my ticket in hand, my luggage already loaded, outside the gate where Grey and I had to say our goodbye.

I knew if it weren’t for the warmth of the heroin creeping up my body, I would’ve been intensely sad. At that moment, I couldn’t keep a smile on my face.

“I’ll let you know when we’re coming home.” Grey pulled me into his arms, and their strength was the only thing that could compare with the goodness of the numbing heat stealing through my veins. I savoured my time spent in them, I never wanted to let him go.

“I love you, Grey,” I whispered in his ear. He paused a moment then, his mouth open but frozen, as if he were struggling for words that just wouldn’t come.

“Have a good flight.” He smiled finally. He kissed me, and I held onto him, but as my final boarding call was announced, ringing through the noisy din surrounding us, I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer. I had to go.

“Goodbye, Grey.” I forced myself to turn away from him, to tear myself away from his gorgeous blue eyes, walking towards the gate, leaving him behind.

“Wait, Mackenzie,” Grey called suddenly. He came up behind me, grabbed my hand and spun me around to meet him.

“Yes?”

He stared at me, his face soft as he looked me over, warm with obvious affection. “I love you,” Grey stated lowly. “I love you, and I’m sorry I never tell you that. I feel bad, because you say it to me all the time. But it’s hard for me…I don’t know why… just know I love you, okay? Even if I can’t say it.”

I blinked at him a moment, and a smile spread across my face as I savoured his words. It was so good to hear him say it. I knew he loved me—I did—because that was the thing about Grey, the thing I’d come to understand. He spoke with his actions more than his words, and his love was evident in all the little things. Like the way he wrote me a song and how he carried my bag for me, or the way he turned and grasped my hand whenever we were walking. Even in the lengths he’d gone to, to try and cheer my up after our weekend was ruined.

“I do know.” I nodded softly. “Grey, you tell me you love me all the time.”