Tamed By You (Always & Forever #2)

38. Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Ali

Flashing lights and smoke swirl around me, the music a faint echo as I sway my body. I take a swig of my drink, welcoming the burn of the vodka down my throat. It’s the only thing I feel. I feel numb, lost, and it feels good. It’s the first time in weeks the voices in my head have quietened.

I don't want to think about the letter; I don't want to think about Harry or the hole he’s left in my heart. I just want it to be silent, just for a little bit. So, tonight, I drink until I lose count and act like tomorrow doesn’t exist because the idea of spending another day without him in my life is becoming unbearable. All I can do is think about getting through tonight. Rough hands rub against my thighs, and I grind into them. Hot lips press against my neck, and I lean into it. The stench of whisky swirls around me and it makes my stomach churn.

“You are so fucking hot. This pink dress would look better on my bedroom floor,” a husky voice moans into my ear, and it has every hair standing on end, but I ignore it, I need to forget. I turn to face him. He’s a little taller than me, blond hair with stubble, hooded eyes and an ill-fitting shirt. But he’ll do.

“Let’s get out of here.” I take his hand and head for the exit.

“Ali.” I stop, turning to see Brad hot on my heels. “I need to speak to you.” His jaw is clenched, eyes narrowed. Oh, he’s angry.

“I’m a bit busy right now,” I say, holding my hand in the air that’s linked with my new friend.

“That's exactly what we need to talk about.” He eyes the man beside me. “I’m gonna need you to fuck off,” he says through gritted teeth.

The guy scoffs, “Excuse me, she’s mine tonight.”

I recoil at his words. Fuck this guy is a creep. What the hell am I doing?

“I don’t think so.” Brad leans in taking me by the hand and dragging me towards his office, leaving the drunk stranger standing alone, utterly dumbfounded.

“Get off me” I shout, trying to free my hand from Brad’s grip. He opens his office door and pulls me in.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he barks.

“Excuse me, what the hell was that?” I bite back, stepping in to his personal space.

“I wasn’t about to let that guy fuck you in a back alley.”

I grin. “Oh really, did you want the job instead?” I slur, moving closer, pressing myself against his chest. I know I'm out of control here, but I don't care.

“What the fuck?” he says, eyes widening.

“Come on, let’s have some fun. God knows, you need it. You are wound so fucking tight most of the time.” I reach for his button on his pants, and he grabs my wrists, stopping me.

“Ali, I am not going to fuck you, nor will I ever, and I’m not going to let you go with anyone else either. Not on my watch.”

“Since when did you become my keeper and have a right to tell me what to do?” I spit.

“Since you started fucking around with my friend, that’s when. What the hell Ali?” He growls, letting go of my wrists and I stumble back.

“Well, for your information, we are done. Over. No more fucking around so I can fuck around with whoever I want.”

“Does he know that?”

“Who?” I say, wrinkling my nose.

“Harry. Does Harry know you’re done? Because from what I heard, you have been avoiding him.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I sneer, not answering him.

“Yeah, I didn't think so. What the hell is going on with you? You've been in here most nights with Cassidy and that other girl. They’re bad news, Ali. Why the hell are you hanging out with the—”

“Hey, don't you judge them? You have no idea who they are or what they've been through, so don't you dare comment on how they behave or what they do. You have no idea.”

“Are you talking about them or yourself there?” His eyes zone in on me and I don't like the challenging stare he’s giving me.

“I’d like to leave, please.”

“Not with him you aren't.”

“I’m going back to my friends if you must know. I also need to pee. Do you wish to escort me there too?” My words are laced with sarcasm.

“You need to talk to him; he doesn't deserve your silence, Ali.”

“Don't lecture me about what he deserves. Most of us don't deserve the hand we are dealt.”

I brush past him, but he catches my arm. “If you need to talk, I’m here. I’m your friend Ali, not your enemy.”

I shrug off his hand and reach for the door, my chest suddenly feeling painful. What the fuck was that? Why did I just throw myself at my friend, Harry's best friend? I really am a piece of shit.

I walk down the narrow corridor, pushing through the door of the ladies' bathroom, and see Cassidy in line. Her brunette hair is a mess, mascara smudged under eyes and her sparkly silver dress barely covering her ass, a bottle of beer bottle tucked under her arm.

“Hey, girl, I’ve been looking for you. Come here.” A tall brunette exits the stall and Cassidy drags me by the hand, pulling me into the stall with her. She locks the door and reaches inside her bra, pulling something out and opening her palm in front of me. There lay two little white pills inside a small, clear packet.

“Want one?” she whispers.

I still, contemplating taking it so I can forget all about tonight and everything else in my life. Without a second thought or asking what it is I reach for it, placing it in my mouth and rolling my tongue, feeling the pill hit the back of my throat and I swallow, closing my eyes, envisioning it disintegrating as it works its way through my bloodstream, silencing my thoughts as it does. Cassidy does the same and takes a swig of beer and then hands it to me. The bitter, warm liquid floods my mouth and it makes me heave.

“Fuck, I hate beer.” I wince.

Cassidy’s eyes look into mine, heavy and full of mischief and she smirks. “Now, let's go have some fun.”

I feel free, weightless, like I’m soaring above the clouds. Strobe lights flash before my eyes, images of Brooke and Cassidy dancing in slow motion flicker in front of me. Throwing my head back, my long hair tickles my bare skin, arms in the air, twirling my wrists, I watch as my fingers stretch, enjoying this feather-light feeling. I feel nothing. No pain, no worry, nothing, and it’s the best feeling in the world right now.

I don't know how much time passes, but everything starts to feel a little louder, a little clearer, and I know that magical pill is wearing off. My feet burn from my six-inch heels, and I need to sit down, my legs feeling too heavy and weak to hold me up a second longer. I make my way over to the booth we have and slump into the leather seat.

Pulling my phone out of my purse, I see a text from Harry, telling me he misses me, begging me to call him, and my heart begins to ache again. All the feelings I have been blocking out resurfacing and I suddenly have the need to flee, to get out of here. I’m putting my phone back in my purse when Cassidy stumbles over to me, barely able to put one foot in front of the other.

What the fuck?

She’s pale, eyes glazed. “Cass, you okay, babe? You don't look so good.” She sinks into the seat next to me; her body goes limp and falls into my lap. “Cass,” I shout. “Cass, get up,” I call again, but she doesn't move.

I lift her head and watch in horror as her eyes roll into the back of her head and her small body starts to convulse in my arms, foam frothing from her mouth.

I let out a strangled scream, but it's so loud in here, no one hears me. “Cass, what the fuck did you take?” I shriek as my heart hammers violently in my chest. “Please, stop…” I need help. I reach for my purse, pulling my phone and dialing Brad’s number.

“Ali are you—”

“Help, help please, it's Cassidy. She’s, she’s dying.”

“What the fuck? Where are you?”

“The VIP booth at the back. Hurry.”

I don't know how long it takes, or how long she's been convulsing, but her body finally stops, and she goes limp and heavy in my lap.

“Cass.” I shake her, but she doesn't move. Her arm flops off my lap, hanging lifelessly beside her. With shaky fingers, I press them to her pulse point, but I feel nothing.

“Cassidy.” Her name leaves my lips on a bloody curdling scream.

“Ali.” I sag in relief when I see Brad.

“I don’t think she’s breathing. Please help her.” Panic laces my voice. He lifts her, cradling her in his arms, her body like a rag doll. He runs to the back exit, away from the other guests, and through the fire doors. I follow him into the back alley and watch on as he lays her on the ground.

He presses his ear to her chest, but she doesn't move at all. “Call 911,” he barks.

Watching as he covers her mouth with his, he blows into her mouth and then starts pumping. His large, tattooed hands cover her small chest. while I have what can only be described as an out-of-body experience.

I freeze, watching as her lifeless body lies on the damp concrete of a New York alley. The smell of urine and trash fills the air and bile rises into my mouth, but I don’t move, can't move. I am frozen in place as I watch the life leave Cassidy’s body.

Brad gives another rescue breath and yells, “Ali, call 911 now.”

With shaky hands, I dial the number and give the operator the address.

“Come on, come on, sweetheart, you’re not dying on me today,” he pants in between pumping her chest.

I sink to the floor, my eyes wide, blood running cold. “Cassidy, wake up…breathe,” I wail, taking her lifeless hand in mine.

I don't know how much time passes, but suddenly Cassidy takes in a sharp breath, and I sag in relief.

Brad collapses against the wall, bracing his head in his hands, his breathing ragged. Cassidy's eyes flutter open, and she groans.

“Help’s coming, Cass, you're gonna be okay,” I soothe, stroking a hand over her forehead, her skin damp and clammy under my touch. Blue flashing lights shine down the alley and I wave them down.

Brad doesn't move. He leans against the wall, looking down at Cassidy. Guilt hits me in the gut that I put him in this position.

“I need to go with her.” I say to Brad clutching Cassidy’s hand.

“No, no you’re not, I need to take you home.”

“But- “

“Don’t fight me. Ali,” he says Sternly.

“Okay.” I nod not wanting to argue with him. “But I need to call Brooke.”

While the paramedics take Cassidy to the hospital, I call Brooke and tell her what happened. When I hang up, Brad and I are left, sitting in the alley, the sounds of sirens in the distance filling the silence between us. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette packet and a lighter, placing the white stick in his mouth, his dark facial features glowing by the flicker of the flame as he lights it. He sucks down a hard drag and blows out a cloud of smoke.

I scoot closer to him, placing my hand on his tensed forearm. I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I’m sorry.”

“What did you take,” he asks.

“N-Nothing,” I stammer, my heart beating erratically.

“Don’t lie to me.” He hisses, tossing his cigarette he turns to face me, the stench of nicotine invading my nostrils and the urge to vomit resurfaces.

“I didn’t take anything,” I murmur, shaking my head, hating the way his whiskey-colored eyes are looking at me. Like he can’t stand the sight of me. I stare down at the ground, needing to break our eye contact,

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t take anything.” He says, his tone a little softer this time. I reluctantly lift my head and look at him, and I feel myself wilt under his glare.

“Look at you. Your pupils are dilated, I know what drugs do to a person, trust me. So don’t bullshit me, Ali,” His tone thick with emotion.

I don’t answer. I don’t say anything, because what could I say? He knows. I can’t deny it. I feel like he hates me, but no one could hate me more than I hate myself right now.

My tears begin to fall, and I wipe them away, black smudges from my mascara coating my fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ve ruined everything. It’s all my fault,” I sob, my body heaving, the tears I haven’t let fall for days burst like a dam breaking its banks.

His strong arm wraps around me. Exhaling he calmly says, “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

He pulls me into his chest, and I collapse into him, gripping his shirt in my fist as I let myself cry. I let myself think about the letter, my past, Cassidy and Harry. I let it all tumble out of me, not caring that Brad is bearing witness to it all.

I feel safe with him, not the way I do with Harry, but it will do for right now. My words come out on a croak “I just needed the noise to stop. I needed it to stop.”

“Ssshhh, I know, I know, it's okay, it’s okay,” his deep voice rasps.

“I need him, Brad. I need him so fucking much. He’s the only one who made it better, but I’ll ruin him, like everything else I touch. I need to stay away from him, but it’s killing me.”

I don't remember how I got home, what Brad said after I confessed that I needed Harry, if he did say anything. I wake in my bed, my silver dress still on. Stretching and swinging my legs that feel like lead, I plant my feet on the floor, and I go in search of water to quench my dry mouth. I’m not sure what the time is but a yellow light floods my apartment, so I know it’s sometime in the morning. I find Brad sleeping on my couch, still dressed in his clothes from last night too. I place a fluffy blanket over him, grateful that he took care of me, even when I didn't deserve it. I’m just grateful Gabby was out visiting her parents' last night and wasn’t home to see all this. I don’t want to burden her with this. It’s bad enough I’ve dragged Brad into it.

I head for my bathroom, turn on the shower, and sit underneath the running water my dress from last night still on. Pushing my hands through my tangled hair, washing away the memories of last night. I drag a hand down my chest, needing to scrape away any trace of last night. My finger hooks on my necklace. I’ve tried to take it off so many times but haven’t been able to. I couldn’t bear to. It’s the only piece of him I have. I hold it in between my fingers, rubbing the little heart over and over again with the pad of my thumb. That horrible ache in my heart returns, but I feel too numb to cry. So, I just sit there, staring blankly at the wall, replaying last night over and over in my head, adding it to my lists of regrets and things I wish I could erase from my memory.

After my shower, I throw on some pink sweatpants and a white t-shirt, brush my wet hair, leaving it to air dry, and head out to my living space, knowing I need to speak to Brad.

He’s sat up on my couch, hunched over, scrolling through his phone. I chew on the inside of my cheek, too nervous to speak first. He must sense my presence because he looks up, looking at me for a beat before giving me a small sympathetic smile, showing kindness I don't deserve.

“Morning. How are you feeling?”

“Better than I think I deserve to be honest.”

He nods. “Brooke called from the hospital when you were in the shower. Cassidy is okay. They are keeping her in for observation, but she’s going to be okay.”

“Oh, thank god.” I sag with relief.

“Are you going to tell me what she took… what you took?” I nervously chew the inside of my cheek and shake my head.

“Not before my caffeine fix. Can I get you some tea or coffee?”

“Coffee, please. Black.”

I nod and head for my kitchen area. My hands tremble as I reach for the mugs, the beginnings of a panic attack brewing.

Deep breaths in and out, in and out.

I finish making our drinks and walk towards the couch, passing Brad his coffee before I settle on the opposite end to him, cradling my mug of tea in my hands, the heat from the ceramic providing a small sense of comfort.

“Thank you for bringing me home and staying. You didn’t need to do that.”

“You’re welcome, and I did need to do that. I didn’t want to leave you alone after what happened. I expected Gabby to be here. Is she out with that prick, Patrick?”

“Not a Patrick fan huh?” I tease I ask noting the way his nostrils flare at the mention of his name.

Hmmm, interesting.

“She could do better,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his coffee.

“No, she’s visiting her parents. She’ll be back later.”

He rolls his eyes, an unimpressed look etched over his tanned face.

His jaw ticks and he mumbles something I can’t quite make out. An awkward silence falls between us, and it only adds to my anxiety. I clear my throat and muster all my strength to speak. “Brad, about last night…I—”

“What the hell happened, Ali? You weren’t you last night, drugs, the thing in my office, what's going on?”

I close my eyes, feeling tears burn behind my eyelids. I blink rapidly, looking at the ceiling, and let out a long breath. “I don't even know where to begin.”

He sinks back into the couch, resting his ankle on his opposite knee, blowing into his coffee cup. “Well, I’ve got all day and I’m a great listener.”

I let out a little laugh. It’s not my usual laugh, but it’s better than the tears I want to let out. “Really? You don't seem like the one for deep and meaningful conversations.”

“I said I was a good listener; I didn't say I was good at the talking part.” I laugh again, and sniff, wiping my eyes, the tears now freely flowing.

“Ali, whatever it is, you can trust me with it. Sometimes it's easier to tell someone who’s an outsider to it all.”

“I appreciate that, I really do, but if I say it out loud, then it makes it real, and then I have to acknowledge it. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does, but what doesn’t make sense is trying to find the solutions in the bottom of a bottle or pill pot. You’re a smart girl, Ali. Promise me you won’t do that again. It doesn’t solve your problems. Trust me on that.”

I can’t speak, can’t find the words, because I can’t promise him that. I wish I could, but I can’t. My demons are far darker than he will ever be able to understand.

“Look, I get it, more than you know. That need to quieten the noise, forget all the fucked-up things you’ve lived through. But what I can tell you for certain is you’ll never quieten that noise unless you face it head on and deal with it. You can bury it, but it will find a way to come back to the surface.”

His words ring with so much truth. I know he’s right.

“You are a fighter, Ali. Fight it. Don't let it win.”

“Can we keep this between us, please? I don’t want Gabby and Ria or Harry finding out about this. I don’t need them worrying about me more than they already do,” I plead.

“I think they should know. They would want to help you if you are struggling.”

“I know they would, but they are doing good. I don’t want them worrying. This was just a blip. It won’t happen again.”

He eyes me suspiciously. “Okay, I won’t say a word if you at least tell me a little. You don’t have to go through this alone, Ali.”

I twiddle the string of my teabag, contemplating his request. And then I do something so unexpected. I open up and share some of my demons with him.