Chapter Thirty-three
S leep never comes. I lay there in the dark, staring toward the black ceiling as the city slowly lightens with the rising sun.
There’s a pit inside of me, a yawning mouth that keeps stretching open, swallowing everything around it. All I see is the way her face crumbled when I ended it, saw the devastation, the heartbreak as I crushed her.
You love me too.
She was right, of course she was. I do love her, more than I have ever loved anything. Fuck, I’ve never loved anyone the way I am in love with her. And that’s why I let her go. Because she deserves more than me. Deserves more than the trauma and secrets. I can’t give her what she wants.
I’ve let down too many people in my life, hurt too many people with my actions and I won’t do that to her. I’ve betrayed my best friend, broken his little sister’s heart and now I have to stew in the consequences of those actions.
I’ve been led here for the past several hours, so I give up and throw my legs off the side of the bed, capturing my head in my hands as my fingers thread into my hair and tug. The bite of pain isn’t enough. I need to push myself to the limit. I need to feel something other than this crushing sense of loneliness.
Leaving the lights off, I head through the house, the morning light barely above the horizon so it doesn’t penetrate through the windows as I make my way to the gym, knowing the halls in the dark since I’ve done this so many times.
Sleepless nights and darkness are my best friends.
The cool air of the gym hits me the moment I open the door, the smell of staleness and dust greeting me. I haven’t used it since this all began with Savannah, instead I’ve been working out with Dean or Malakai or Bast, something I hadn’t done for ages.
Now I’m back to my solitary punishment.
I hit the button to turn on the sound system and Anthony Mossberg’s, My Drug begins to play, the same song I watched Savannah dance to that first day in her house. It seems fitting.
Leaving it to fill the space, bouncing off the walls back at me, I stretch and then head for the bench, dragging the weights with me ready to begin my brutal reps.
Time disappears as I push myself to within an inch of my limits, sweat dripping off of me as my muscles scream for relief. I don’t comply. I keep forcing the reps until it feels like my flesh is tearing. The way her face looked is burned into the spot behind my eyes. Her tears, tracking down her red cheeks, the way she looked devastated every time I ignored her with our friends while we were drinking. I’d rather sit through weeks of torture than ever hurt her the way I did tonight and if I didn’t end it, I would keep hurting her.
Because that’s what I do. I hurt people.
A shrill ring cuts through the gym and I glance to the screen beside the bench, seeing Bast’s name lighting it up.
I contemplate ignoring it, leaving him to ring out but he won’t stop until he reaches me, or he’ll show up like he did last time, something he and his sister have in common it seems.
“What?” I snap into the cell, dropping the weights with a thud.
“Savannah,” His voice cracks into the speaker, sending an instant alert through me. My skin prickles with dread.
“What is it?”
“There – she – ” His words cut off on a sob .
No.
There’s a rustling on the other end of the line before Willow’s voice is there, “There was an accident,” Her voice is soft but raspy, “We’re at the hospital. She’s…”
“She’s what?” I growl, “She’s what, Willow?”
Silence.
“If she’s dead, Willow, tell me!” I demand, “Tell me, please!” The plea is edged in desperation.
“She isn’t dead.” Willow answers softly. “But it isn’t good. You should come here. Now.”
“I’m on my way.”
I don’t bother changing, there is no time. Thankfully, it’s still early and the streets are somewhat quiet, though drenched from the night of rain.
The rain in which Savannah drove in. The rain that made it hard to drive while she was in the state she was in. I didn’t let her drive in it once, but I did last night. I let her go.
I leave my Audi somewhat abandoned in the lot outside the hospital and then I’m running. Through sterile, white corridors, passing tired and flustered nurses, patients wandering the halls until I skid to a stop in an empty waiting room. Everyone is here. There’s Malakai pacing by the window, his hair in disarray from his hands and Olivia watching him, her hand cradling her small, growing baby bump, there’s Dean staring aimlessly at a closed door and Savannah’s best friend in the corner, chewing on the end of her thumb nail. Then there’s Willow, her hand on the back of Bast’s neck while he sits with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
There’s one thing that links them all.
Grief.
My heart stops beating. Am I too late? Has she gone in the time it took me to get here? Is this it?
The embers of us are dying, fizzling out and I’m the one who threw the water on them.
“Bast,” My voice cracks but it’s as loud as gunfire. Every head whips to me but I only watch Bast. His eyes are rimmed red and fresh tears track down his face.
Oh god. Oh fuck.
No.
No, she isn’t gone. She can’t be gone.
“Is she…” I can’t bring myself to say the words.
Not Savannah. Not my Tiny Dancer. Not the light that shone through the darkness and lit up life.
I could have lived knowing she was happy. Alive. Thriving. I could live with seeing her get everything she wanted.
I can’t live in a world where she doesn’t exist.
Bast shakes his head. “She’s in surgery. It’s bad, Kill, they don’t know if she’ll make it.”
“What happened!?” I demand.
“T-boned at a junction.”
“When!?”
“Around two or three this morning,” Someone answers but I’m not keeping up with who is speaking.
After she left my place.
“They’ve had to resuscitate her once already,” The utter grief in Bast’s tone tells me he has lost hope.
“No,” I growl, “No, she’s not dying. Where’s her doctor? Where are the fucking nurses!?”
“They’re all busy, Killian,” Dean touches my arm. How the fuck did he move so silently?
“Bullshit,” I snap, “Where is everyone!?”
“Working on Savannah.” Willow answers.
“And the guy who hit her?” I demand.
“Died on impact,” Willow says.
Good. I would have killed him myself otherwise and this time it wouldn’t appear like an accident like it did with Adrien.
“Sit down, Killian,” Dean suggests, “We just have to wait.”
I fold myself down into a hard, plastic chair as a clock ticks loudly on the wall but I feel eyes on me. Glancing across the room, I find Sloane staring into the side of my face and I wonder how much she knows.
Several hours pass, the sky bleeding from dark to light as the sun rises and rises, clearing away the storm from last night like it never happened.
My skin feels too tight for my body and every sound is like nails on a chalk board. Waiting for news keeps everyone on edge, every time we see a nurse, we stand, hoping for them to deliver news but they continue on, pretending we don’t exist.
It’s a little after one in the afternoon when a doctor in scrubs enters the waiting room.
“Mr. Levine?” They call.
Bast is on his feet in the next breath, “Yes?”
“You’re Miss Levine’s next of kin, yes?”
“That’s right.”
He sighs, exhaustion pulling him down, “She is out of surgery but I’m afraid we are not clear.”
“The fuck does that mean?” I hiss, stepping up to the doctor. Dean hauls me back.
The doctor eyes me warily but continues to address Sebastian, “Would you like to come with me to speak more privately? ”
“You can speak here,” Bast swallows, “We’re family.”
With a sigh, the doctor continues, “Your sisters’ injuries were extensive, along with several breaks and fractures throughout her body, she suffered a collapsed lung and a bleed on the brain. I’m afraid we’ve had to induce a coma to aid her healing but there is no saying what her quality of life will be like when she wakes up and while it is our hope that she heals, there is always the chance that she will never breathe on her own or wake up.”
I see the moment Bast’s legs give out from beneath him and catch him before he hits the deck.
“I am very sorry, Mr. Levine. We must take this day by day.”
Bast’s body shakes against my chest, “Can I see her?”
“She is in ICU; we only allow two visitors at one time and visiting hours end at eight this evening. One of our nurses will show you through.” The doctor glances around at the group, “Speak to her. Let her hear your voice.”
A moment later, a nurse shows Sebastian and Willow through to the room where they are keeping Savannah, leaving us all in the waiting room.
Tomorrow doesn’t exist if Savannah doesn’t pull through this.