Chapter 23 #2
He keeps his hand on my shoulder and brings me to my room just as Silas catches up.
“What’s happening?” he asks.
“Holmes is drunk. Blakely hasn’t heard from him all night. Something’s up.”
“Nothing is up.” I push him away but he doesn’t budge.
Instead, he takes my key card from my pocket and opens my door right before pushing me in with a giant shove. I stumble in, hit the wall, and fall to the ground.
“How is that productive?” Silas asks as he leans down and helps me up.
“I didn’t mean to send him to the floor. He clearly doesn’t have good balance.”
“All the more reason not to shove him. The last thing we need is for him to roll his ankle again.”
“Right . . . sorry,” Eli says before dragging his hand over his face. “I’m exhausted and not thinking right.”
“Then let me handle this.”
Eli shakes his head. “No, I promised Blakely I’d take care of it.”
“Don’t promise Blakely anything,” I say as Silas brings me over to the bed and sits me down.
Two of my best friends stand in front of me, probably trying to figure out what to do with me. I can tell them . . . let me go back to the bar. Their presence just reminds me of all the reasons I don’t want to be in this room, near my phone.
“What happened?” Eli asks.
“Nothing,” I reply.
“And like I said earlier, bullshit.” He reaches for my phone on the nightstand and flashes the screen at my face to unlock it.
“What are you doing?” I ask as I reach for it, but Silas steps in front of me and settles me back down on my ass.
“You have ten missed calls from Blakely, a bunch of texts.” He flips through the phone, then his eyes lift to mine. “Why the fuck were you calling your parents?”
Silas’s head whips toward me. “You called your parents?”
God, they’re so invasive.
I lie back on the bed and cover my eyes. “None of your fucking business.”
“Halsey—”
“I said it’s none of your fucking business.” I yell loud enough that it probably woke up the whole floor.
Silas turns to Eli and says, “Not the right time, man.”
Eli nods and sets my phone down. “Okay.” He sets his hands on his hips. “Well, might as well get comfortable.” He moves around to the other side of the bed and pulls back the sheets before knocking his slides off and getting into bed.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“You’re not sleeping alone, so get comfortable . . . buddy.”
“Jesus fuck,” I say as I stand, but Silas gets in front of me.
“Where are you going?”
“To take a piss,” I shout. “Can I do that?”
“I prefer he doesn’t pee the bed,” Eli says.
“I prefer that he does,” Silas says with a smirk before I blow past him.
BLAKELY
“Eli’s with him?” I ask Penny. I’m trying not to lose my freaking mind over the fact I’ve been trying to contact Halsey all freaking night with no response.
“He is. He just texted me and told me to tell you,” Penny replies over the phone.
“Did he say what he was doing?”
Penny is silent for a second before she says, “He was down at the bar, drunk.”
“Drunk?” I ask. “Halsey doesn’t drink before games. Did he say what was wrong?”
“Well, they aren’t sure. Halsey won’t say anything, but Eli did look in his phone and saw that Halsey called his parents.”
“Oh no,” I say softly. “He called them today?”
“That’s what it seemed like. When they asked him about it, he said nothing. He’s passed out now in bed and will be hurting tomorrow for sure.”
“Fuck,” I whisper. “This isn’t good, Penny.”
“I remember you saying he wanted to contact his family. Do you think it went wrong?”
“It had to,” I say as I stand from my hotel bed and grip my forehead, wishing I could be in Vegas with Halsey right now to tell him whatever they said, it’s going to be okay.
That he’s loved and cherished. “I know he’s wanted to contact them for a bit, but I didn’t think .
. . I don’t know. I didn’t think it would go so wrong that he’d end up at a bar the night before a game.
Halsey doesn’t do that. He’s very cautious about what he does before games.
He wouldn’t even drink when he was injured. ”
“Well, from what Eli said, there doesn’t seem to be anything you can do until tomorrow, so I think you should probably just get some sleep—at least try, I know that’s easier said than done—and hopefully he calls you in the morning.”
“And what if he doesn’t?” I ask in a panic. “What if he uses this as an excuse to push me away?”
“Don’t let him,” she says. “No matter what he says to you, you have to know this isn’t the real Halsey talking. It’s the scared, hurt Halsey.”
“Do you think he’ll push me away?” I bite on the tip of my finger, my stomach roiling with anxiety.
“Honestly . . . yes. Knowing how these men work, he’ll do everything to ensure he can feel as shitty as possible. And that means eliminating the one thing that brings him joy. And that’s you.”
Tears spring to my eyes. “I don’t want to be pushed away. I want to help him, hold him, and nurture him through this.”
“Which means no matter what he says or does, you need to hold strong. You said it yourself, you love him deeper than anything or anyone you’ve loved before. Don’t let that feeling be taken away from a hurt man who is drowning. You are the lifeline, so be the lifeline.”
I nod even though she can’t see me. “You’re right.”
“Fight for him, Blakely.”
“I will.”
“And I’m here for you if you need anything.”
“Thank you, Penny.”
HALSEY
Blakely: Can you at least let me know that you’re okay? Please, Halsey?
I stare down at her text message and all the other text messages she’s sent as I nurse a bottle of water in the locker room.
Fuck, do I feel like shit.
I woke up this morning with Eli next to me, his arm splayed out across the bed and a light snore coming from his mouth. I proceeded to throw up in the bathroom, which of course woke him up. He tossed me some water and ordered breakfast for us both.
I watched him inhale a large plate of eggs, bacon, and fruit, and I proceeded to throw up two more times after that.
He urged me to at least eat some bacon to settle my stomach, but that did nothing for me.
So he ordered a hangover cure from the kitchen.
I have no idea what the hell was in that, but it eased my stomach and brought me back from hell.
Now I just feel like a goddamn zombie walking around the earth with a game ahead of me.
Yet it doesn’t feel as bad as what my mom said to me and the realization of all of that.
“Text her back,” Eli says when he sits beside me in the locker room.
“Mind your own fucking business.”
“Funny you say that, I don’t recall you minding your own business when it came to me and Penny.”
“This has nothing to do with my relationship with Blakely,” I say as I set my phone down and lift my drink to my lips. I’ve been doing my damnedest to try to hydrate before the game. It’s been slow. If I make it through the three hours of gameplay tonight, it will be a goddamn miracle.
“Then why not text her back?” He nudges me with his shoulder. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
“Can you leave me the fuck alone?”
“No.”
And he leaves it at that, so I pick up my phone and text Blakely back.
Halsey: I’m fine.
“That’s all you’re going to say to her?” Eli asks. “That you’re fine? She called and texted you several times last night, and that’s what you’re going to say? You’re fine. Are you trying to be a dick?”
“I’m trying to fucking hydrate and get my mind on the game. I don’t need you chattering in my ear.”
He tugs on my shoulder so I’m forced to look at him. “What the hell did your parents say to you last night?”
“How . . . how do you know—”
“I saw that you called them. It was in your call history. So what the fuck did they say to you that has put you in this frame of mind? Whatever it is, it isn’t fucking true.
And do not for a second believe it. Don’t let them get in your goddamn head.
Don’t let them rule over everything you’ve been able to move toward with Blakely.
You have a good thing, man. Don’t waste it on their empty words. ”
I look away from him as my phone dings with a text. I glance at the preview and read her text.
Blakely: Okay. Well, I miss you. Please call me if you can.
I set my phone down again and lean my head back so I can close my eyes. “My mom’s words were not empty. They were true.”
“What did she say?”
Keeping my eyes closed, I say, “My dad is dead.”
“Jesus.” Eli turns toward me. “Fuck, man. I’m sorry.”
My throat grows tight, and I shake my head. “It is what it is.”
“No, Halsey. That’s awful, and you’re allowed to feel that pain.”
Little does he know.
“Okay, so can you just leave me the fuck alone now?”
“No,” he says, and I feel him scoot closer. “I’m not leaving you alone.”
I place my hands over my face and groan. “I don’t want to fucking talk about this. Okay? I just want to . . . fuck.” I stand from the bench and place my hands on my hips. “I just want to be . . . be done.”
“Done with what?” Eli asks.
“Everything,” I shout before pulling on my hair. “I want to be done with this guilt, I want this heaviness resting on my chest, the responsibility of it all, taken away. I want it to be done. I want it to end. She was right. She was so fucking right.”
“Who was right?” Eli asks, standing now. “Your mom?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I step forward, but Eli stops me. And I don’t know what comes over me, but between my frustration, hurt, and irritation, I whip around and plow my fist right into Eli’s face, sending him back against the locker.
“What the fuck?” Pacey says as he comes into the locker room.