Chapter 42
Fallon
Groaning, I blink open my eyes. My throbbing head worsens as loud shouts echo in my skull. “Quiet, please.” I whisper.
My whispered plea is ignored, the raised voices growing louder.
Groaning again, I push upright, glancing around the room to find I’m alone. I expel a heavy breath, running my hands through my hair. “What happened?” I mumble, my mind trying to piece together the jumbled pieces of my memory.
I have a vague recollection of coming to Ava’s with Hudson, watching as the two moved effortlessly together in the kitchen. Downing glass after glass of wine, I tried to push aside the forlorn thoughts that have become my constant companion.
The next thing I can remember is stumbling into the bathroom and…
My breath hitches, my hand flying to cover my mouth.
I didn’t, did I?
Pushing up from the bed, I take a few shaky steps. I stop to peek out into the hall before slipping out of the room and quickly sneaking into the bathroom. Closing the door behind me, I suck in several breaths to calm the anxiety bubbling up into my throat.
No, it was just a bad dream. I wouldn’t have, I mean, I’m not like that. I would never use drugs.
Some of the suffocating pressure relieves at my mental reassurance.
Rolling my shoulders, I push off the door and cross the tiled floor, coming to a stop before the bathroom mirror. I stare at the reflection, not recognizing the woman before me.
Her hair is a mess, skin blotchy, makeup smeared. A sheen on her skin from the sweat beading. The most startling feature is her eyes. The pupils are so constricted the green iris appears almost unnatural. Red lines surround the eery focal point of her eyes.
I blink, watching as she does the same.
I know it’s me in the reflection, but my mind refuses to connect the logic with my emotional side. Because if she is me, that means I did do it. That means I succumbed to the same demons that I’ve watched plague my brother. The same ones I refused to even entertain.
The earlier pressure pushes its way up my chest, curling around my throat like fingers squeezing the air from my lungs. I suck in useless breath after useless breath. My chest heaves as I desperately try to get the oxygen I need, but I can’t.
With a trembling hand, I reach into my pocket, pulling out the small baggie. One glance down shows the truth. There’s no denying it.
I drop the empty plastic bag, watching as it floats to the ground. My knees buckle as the realization of what it means hits me. Sinking to the ground, I curl my legs against my chest, squeezing my knees as tightly as I can.
What have I done?
I lay there for what may be seconds or hours, willing my gasping breaths to even out. Still curled in a ball on the cool tile, I press my cheek against the smooth surface. The chilly temperature a stark contrast to my overheated skin. I focus on the sensation, something about it enough to distract me from my crippling panic.
As I lay on the bathroom floor, my mind replays the last few months, a depressing reel of my self-destruction.
Lonely nights bleeding into a waking nightmare as I watch everything I worked so hard for slip through my fingers. I watch as I drink and numb myself to the reality of what’s happening, of what happened. Until it was too late.
Echoes of a dream filter through my mind.
“When you love yourself, no one else can take that from you. That is how you find true happiness. That is how we find love and acceptance.”
How can I love myself when I’m the one who ruined everything?
The heaviness creeps its way back up at the thought, pushing the little breath I had managed to inhale out of my body. As the weight on my chest increases, a pit in my stomach forms, a hollowness so deep I feel lost in it.
Refusing to let myself wallow in the emotional turmoil any longer, I swallow down the painful ache, forcing myself up onto my knees, then my feet. I peer at my reflection briefly before removing my glasses and bending to splash cold water onto my face.
The cold liquid hitting my skin jolts the remaining anxiety back enough I feel a semblance of control. Needing to gain back as much control of my emotions as I can, I splash more cool water onto my face.
Gasping, I fumble around blindly for the hand towel, dabbing it against my damp skin. I stand upright, smoothing my hair down, licking my thumbs and running them along my eyebrows to smooth out the wayward hairs. Running the towel under my eyes and around my mouth, I try to clean up my appearance.
Once I’ve done the best I can without a full shower, I slip on my glasses to inspect my reflection.
Not perfect, but better.
I try to smile, but it falls flat, the corners of my lips twitching as I strain to keep them turned upward.
Unable to look at myself a moment longer, I spin on my heel and rush out of the bathroom, freezing as the sound of voices filters down the hall.
A familiar voice reaches me and my heart stops. A flash of a hazy memory tries to push its way through, Arriana’s worried face bleeding into my mind.
I thought it was a dream.
Creeping toward the sound, my halted heartbeat kickstarts, thundering so hard I’m afraid it might burst from my chest.
I step into the main living area, my eyes traveling over the tense scene before me. Gulping, I push down the feeling that I’m the reason behind the heightened emotional state. My gaze lands on the source of the voice I heard, the same person who I’ve envisioned every moment of every day since she was taken.
I blink several times, willing this to be real and not some weird drug side effect. When she doesn’t disappear, I begin to let myself believe that this is real. That she’s really here.
“No one is going to do anything reckless. Got it?” Killian demands, drawing a visible reaction from everyone in the room. “Good.” He shifts his gaze toward the other half of my heart before his eyes move to mine.
Arriana slowly turns toward me, and even though I have a million other things I’d rather know, my pounding heartbeat and the uneasiness in the atmosphere draws the question I don’t really know if I want to ask. Because there’s a high chance I’m the answer.
“What’s going on?” I swallow the desire to hide as everyone’s attention shifts to me at the quiet question. No one says anything for several agonizing moments only serving to further my need to retreat.
Shifting on my feet, I fiddle with my glasses before clasping my hands, twisting my fingers together to release some of the nerves.
Ava is the first to break the silence. “Fallon, oh thank god.” Flying across the room, she crashes into me, wrapping her arms around my rigid body. “I was so worried.” Ava whisper cries, tightening her embrace.
I murmur useless comforts to her, nothing I can say will make up for what I’ve done and we both know it. Glancing over her shoulder, my eyes lock onto Arriana’s and I find myself trapped in the small pools of darkness. I shudder at the depth of desire, anger, love, and fear I find reflecting back at me.
“What were you thinking?” Ava pulls my attention back to her, freeing me from the trap of Arriana’s intense gaze. Ava releases her hold, her hands moving to my shoulders as she peers into my eyes, clearly demanding an answer to her question.
Releasing a heavy breath, I shake my head and mumble, “I don’t know.”
Before either of us can say anything else, a throat clears. “Look, I’m glad she’s okay,” I turn to look at the man speaking, my forehead creasing at his clear distress. Even in his emotional upset, he’s very handsome. Shoulder length, sandy brown hair hangs around his clean shaven face. His sharp cheekbones and jawline accentuate his plump lips and dark green eyes. His tanned skin complimented nicely by his stylish clothing.
If I didn’t know any better, I could swear I’ve seen him somewhere. He definitely is giving model energy, that’s for sure.
He glances at me before looking pointedly at Arriana, rubbing the back of his neck. “I really am, sis.”
Sis?
I don’t have time to get caught up on the newfound revelation that Arriana has a brother before he continues speaking. “But, how could you be so fucking selfish?” Another uncomfortable hush falls over the room at his exclamation.
Arriana’s eyes narrow as she slowly turns toward him. “Selfish.” She repeats, her voice hollow. “ ?Crees que soy egoísta? ” Her brother swallows, squaring his shoulders in an attempt to hide the fear at Arriana’s emotionless tone.
“You want to talk about selfish, Spencer?” She quirks her head to the side, as if debating her next words.
Straightening her posture, Arriana slips one hand into her back pocket. “How about you leaving us the first chance you got?” Waving her other hand between herself and another unfamiliar man standing beside her brother, she continues, “Or maybe how you disappeared from our lives like you moved across the world when you live in the same fucking city, hmm?”
Taking a step toward him, Arriana smirks at his flinch. “Better yet, how you have always had a knack of making my life and my worries all about you .” Her brief moment of levity leaves, her expression falling and shoulders slumping. “ Egoísta mi culo. Maldito familia. ” Sighing, she runs a hand through her hair, muttering, “ ?Porqué me importa? ”
Before either of them can say anything else, the other man steps up to Arriana, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Arri.” He murmurs, waiting for her to look at him. “I hate to admit the little prick has a point, but it was kinda selfish to invite us here without at least giving us a heads up.”
Something about his voice pulls at me and a flash of a hazy memory sparks in my mind, the same deep cadence as I’d heard at some point during my battle for consciousness.
I study him, finding he also has an attractive look, maybe not the same level as the man beside him, but still enough to warrant a second glance. His dark brown, nearly black hair is trimmed short. Features much softer than the male model, but he still sports a nice jawline under the carefully styled beard lining his jaw. There’s a familiarity between the three, but not a clear familial connection as the features vary drastically, along with the fact that his skin tone is several shades lighter than both Arriana and the other man.
Arriana glares at his hand, brushing it off her shoulder. “I didn’t invite you, Coop.” He opens his mouth to reply, but she cuts him off. “ ?Honestamente? Ojalá te hubieras mantenido alejado, hermano. ”
My focus fades as he replies in Spanish, their conversation becoming agitated with each back and forth. I try to decipher what they might be saying as they grow more animated, but my sluggish brain can’t keep up.
Ava nudges me, leaning over to whisper in my ear, “Babe, it’s like a real life telenovela.” I roll my eyes at her, shaking my head to hide the smile trying to break its way through. “Oh come on, you can’t seriously pretend it’s not just as dramatic as some of the storylines Britt was explaining last season on Love Island. I mean, estranged family, alcoholic girlfriend,” I shoot her a glare, but she waves me off, continuing her explanation without acknowledging my offense. “A fugitive, and then the co-”
“Excuse me, a what ?” I cut her off with my whispered shout.
Ava’s face pales. “Oh, shit. Um, so here’s the thing…” My eyes drift to Arriana, my own agitation growing to match my furious other half as Ava briefly explains the situation.
“Crazy, right?” Ava lets out a nervous laugh, looking almost apologetic if it weren’t for the excitement she can’t quite hide shining in her eyes. She’s never been a huge fan of my choice in companion and adding in the drama of it all…it’s apparent the friend side of her and the drama obsessed side are at war.
Nodding my head, I step around her, crossing the room to stand behind Arriana. “Excuse me.” I mumble, shifting nervously on my feet. Three sets of frustrated eyes move to me. Adjusting my glasses, I try to ignore the incessant need for a drink to settle the anxiety buzzing beneath my skin.
“What is it, mi vida ?”
My breath catches in my throat at Arriana’s nickname for me, the one I didn’t know if I’d ever hear again. Pushing aside the desire to dive into her arms and bury my concerns in her, I shift my eyes between her and the two men. “You’re on the run?” My quiet question makes her flinch, the motion is almost imperceptible, but I catch it anyway. “And you came here ? Why would you do something so stupid?” I’m shocked that the words slip through, but it would appear I still don’t have full control of myself.
The male model snorts, crossing his arms with a look of triumph. “Yeah, sis. Answer the lady.”
Arriana shoots him a vicious glare before looking back at me, her expression a warring minefield of hurt, anger, love, and confusion. “I told you I’d come back, baby.” Taking a step to close the remaining distance, she trails the back of her hand down my face.
I close my eyes, losing myself in the sensation of her skin on mine. Some of the constant buzzing inside of me settles at her touch. Instead, the current sparking at our connection lights my nerve endings on fire for an entirely different reason.
“ Mi vida. ” I blink open my eyes, getting lost in the liquid chocolate of hers. “Why would you?” I chew on the inside of my cheek, knowing what she’s asking and not wanting to acknowledge her question.
“Why would you drug yourself?”
That’s the question she wants to ask, but not able to voice it out loud.
She studies me for several moments before shifting her hand to cup the back of my neck, drawing my face to hers to press her lips against my ear. “ Never do that again, do you understand?” I gulp, fisting the fabric of my shirt in my fingers.
Leaning back just far enough to peer into my eyes, she cups my cheeks in her hands, her eyes searching mine with a desperation I’ve only seen on her one other time.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
I sniffle, wiping away the tears and snot from my face with the back of my sleeve, my bruised eye throbbing at the touch. “I-I don’t know.”
It’s the truth, I’m not sure if I’m okay, not sure if I’ll ever be okay again.
Arriana studies me intensely, her eyes desperate as she tries to find something in mine that I don’t know if she’ll find. Her expression hardens, her eyes shifting to the large parking garage beside us and back to me. “I’m going to kill him.” She vows, turning toward the entrance.
My throat closes at the thought of her leaving me. Before I’ve made the conscious decision to do so, my hand snaps out, wrapping around her wrist. “Please don’t leave me.” I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.
At my broken plea, Arriana turns back to me, pulling me into her embrace. “Never, baby. I’m never leaving you,”
“You left.” The words slip out as the memory fades, causing Arriana’s worried expression to grow more distraught.
She opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off. “I don’t want to interrupt, but we really need to get you out of here.” I turn toward the voice, releasing a heavy breath as I realize he’s right, we can’t stay here.
“Yeah, you’re right, Drewbie.” Arriana sighs, running a hand through her short hair. She looks back at me, the question burning in her eyes.
“Will you come with me?”