24. Gabriel
24
Gabriel
T he road is open and dark, just the way I like it. The hum of my engine is the only thing keeping me steady, a low vibration beneath my grip. The rain comes down in waves, streaking across my visor. My mind is still back at the hospital, stuck in that sterile white room, the smell of antiseptic clinging to my nose hairs.
I exhale sharply, gripping the handlebars tighter, picking up a speed of 90. Inés.
She looked so tiny in that bed, barely there. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. She is fighting for her life, and I can’t do anything to help her.
I should’ve stayed longer, should’ve said more, but what the hell was I supposed to say? Sorry? That word hasn’t meant shit in a long time.
The turn to my place comes up fast, and I take it without thinking. My tires skid slightly on the slick pavement, but I maintain control. The house is just as I left it—quiet, dark, untouched.
I need to clean up. Get my head on straight. Because ready or not, I know this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
I kill the engine and just sit here for a second, listening to the rain hammering against my helmet. My hands are shaking. Not from the cold. I swing my leg over the bike, water dripping from my clothes as I step onto the porch. The rain has already done its job—soaked through my shirt, my jeans, even my boots. I feel the chill deep in my bones, but I don’t shake it off. I let it sit there, sharp and sobering.
The front door sticks before giving way with a groan. Inside, it’s dark, the air stale like it’s been holding its breath since the last time I was here. I toe off my boots and shrug off my jacket, letting it slap against the floor with a wet thud.
The bathroom light flickers when I switch it on. My reflection stares back at me from the cracked mirror—drenched, exhausted, hollow-eyed—water beads along my jaw before dripping onto the sink. I run a hand through my soaked hair, pushing it back and exhaling slowly.
I should shower. Change. Warm-up. But I just stand here, gripping the porcelain, waiting for something to settle in me.
It doesn’t.
My fingers tighten against the sink. I need to go back. But not like this.
First, I need to feel like a person again.
I strip down and step into the shower, letting the scalding water hit me full force. Steam fills the space, fogging up the mirror and clouding the air.
I close my eyes and let it burn.
I press my forehead against the shower walls, leaning over as the heat envelops me. It’s in these moments I reflect on how life seems like a relentless game of red light, green light. The green lights, those rare moments of reprieve and happiness, are so fleeting. They come and go in the blink of an eye, giving you just a taste of what a good life might be before the red lights come crashing back down. It’s as if life teases you with glimpses of joy only to remind you how temporary they are.
I take a deep breath, letting the steam wrap around me like a comforting blanket. The water pounds against my skin, burning but it is nothing compared to the burn I feel inside of me. My fingers tremble as I press them against the tiled wall, my breath becoming short and unsteady. Esmés laughter still echoes in the back of my mind, haunting and almost mocking–reminding me of who I lost. Of everything I might not get back.
I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing the memories away, but they come in even deeper, like shards of glass beneath my skin. I need to find her. I found one of my girls, and I won’t stop until I know where the other one is. I need Esmé back to bring some sliver of self-worth back into my life. Without her, I will never be the same again. Without her…Lord only knows what monster might become unleashed.
I have done everything that I can and exhausted every option with my crew. This…This is bigger. This is something that I may never resolve. And the only person who might have any idea about her whereabouts is lying in a hospital bed, probably falling into oblivion. She is unreachable, and I need her to be okay.
A sharp breath escapes me. I bellow and shout, trying to release the pain I’ve been holding in, but it quickly turns into a low, hollow, broken sound. Tears stream down my face, mixing in with the water. My knees buckle, and I collapse to the ground, feeling utterly powerless. The weight of everything I’ve done and who I lost presses down on me, making it hard for me to breathe. I clench my fists, my knuckles turning white, but it does nothing to ease the torment inside. The emptiness consumes me, and all I can do is let the tears fall, hoping that, somehow, this release will bring me some semblance of peace. My hands begin to move on their own, searching for something–anything–to ground me. My thoughts are clouded by my own screams.I feel like a puppet in my own body, completely taken over and powerless to resist.
My fingers curl around the razor, the metal slick with condensation. Its weight is almost comforting—something I remember from my early teen days. My pulse thrums against my skin, a frantic drumbeat in my ears, begging me to press it against myself. I can feel the tension building, a mix of fear and familiarity. As I bring the blade closer, the cold steel sends a shiver through me. My heart races, each beat echoing louder in the silence, and with a steadying breath, I press it against my skin. I am weak.
The first drag is slow. The sting is immediate, but damn, it feels good. A rush of warmth spills down my arm, dripping off of my fingertips, and circles the drain, mixing with the water in delicate spirals, disappearing as if it was never here. I instantly feel the euphoria from it all at once. I can’t stop now.
I slice another line, deeper this time, and a choked sound escapes my throat. It doesn’t hurt–not in the way that I need it to. It’s not enough to drown out the war that I am having with no one but myself at this point. I just sit here on my knees in what feels like defeat. Thoughts consume me. “What if I just let go into the nothingness? Maybe the silence will finally swallow me whole.” Maybe then everything will be better without me. The idea of becoming part of the void to protect the ones I love consumes me. Because who would protect them from the real monsters in the world if I did go?
The world stops for a moment. My body feels restless, and my limbs feel like phantoms. I need a drink. I can’t let anyone see me like this. Not now, not ever.