Chapter Thirty-Six
Presley
June
Summer is only weeks away, but it feels like it’s already here. I couldn’t be more miserable. It’s also the day I’m getting released from the hospital.
Thank fuck. Because no matter how hard I’ve tried to keep my shit together, the craving is a fucking monster under my skin. The meds they’ve been giving me? Child’s play compared to what I’m used to. Clearly, I'm not as strong as I thought. Why can't I just stop? Is it really that hard?
Yes, you idiot. It's that hard.
You don't shoot up for as long as you have and just get over it .
Huh?
I mean, I haven't taken anything since I’ve been in here, and I'm doing alright.
Yeah, because they've been pumping you full of morphine, you dumbass.
“Whatever,” I mutter out loud, glaring around the room.
The sterile smell, the beeping machines, the drab curtains, all of it makes my skin crawl.
If I could walk, I’d get up and rip the damn place apart.
But I can’t. So I just lay here, head slamming back against the pillow, pissed off and rotting away.
Maybe they should leave me here until I rot.
At least then I could finally be with Reese.
No sooner do I close my eyes, the door slams open. " Rise and shine, Princess. Time to go. " Rygaard’s annoyingly chipper voice slices through my skull. "Go away," I grunt, yanking the pillow over my head.
No luck. He snatches it away and tosses it aside. "I will not go away. Today’s a very exciting day," he says with a smirk so punchable I actually ball my fists at my sides.
"It was about to be real peachy if you hadn’t shown your dumbass face," I snarl.
He pouts dramatically, sticking his bottom lip out like a brat. "Aww, someone’s being a sourpuss," he says, bopping me on the nose.
"I swear to God, the second I can get out of this bed, I’m breaking that finger," I growl, trying and failing to look away from his stupidly handsome face.
"I’m glad you said that. Because boy, do I have a real treat for you." He claps his hands like an overexcited child. I want to throw up.
"What’s with the Disney channel attitude?" I ask flatly.
He beams. "Today’s the day you get out of here, right?" I nod reluctantly. "Instead of going to some stuffy rehab, you’re coming to my place."
I cock my head and shoot him a look that could curdle milk. "I’m sorry, did you just say I’ll be living with you ?"
He shifts on his feet, glancing around like the walls might save him. "Well, yeah. In a nutshell. That’s what it means. And no, you don’t get a say. Decision’s made. My word is bond."
"Oh, is it now?""Yep," he says, grinning wide enough to punch.
"Boy, you have lost your damn mind," I hiss.
His eyes flash dark. " Boy? " he growls, low and dangerous."You’re acting like an uncultured swine," I say sweetly, barely holding back a laugh when I see his jaw tick.
"Uncultured swine? Somebody’s been watching too much Toy Story ," he barks a laugh, and somehow it both irritates and comforts me.
Just as I open my mouth to roast him again, Rafe and Agatha stroll in. "Finally," I huff. "Talk some sense into him. He’s kidnapping me or some shit." I expect backup. I get dead silence. "You guys deaf?!" I snap.
Agatha just folds her arms. "Girl. First of all, fuck you. Second, you’re going home with him. No, isn’t an option."
Traitor.
"I’m not going anywhere with him."
"The fuck you’re not," Agatha snaps. "You said it yourself, Keifer’s still out there. He finds out you survived? You’re dead. End of story."
My left eye starts twitching.
"You know what you're all about to do, "
"Let me guess," Ry cuts in, deadpan. "Piss you off?" He smirks. Asshole. "Well, tough titties, Princess. You’re going to my place. And newsflash: it’s not a vacation. You’ll work your ass off getting better. Therapy. Rehab. Physical therapy. Hard shit."
Agatha picks up where he leaves off. " All of it. For you, and for my nephew," she says softly, voice catching.
And just like that, my rage fizzles into despair."I hate all of you," I whisper, my throat burning. "Get the fuck out."
But no one moves.No one even flinches.
"Hate us now," Rygaard says, voice low, steady, "but by the time this is over, you’ll know exactly who to hate. Keifer. My father. All the ones who fucked you up. And me? I’m not done with them yet. Not by a long shot."
His promise hangs heavy in the air, and for once, I have no snark left.
"Ry… whatever you got going on with your father, leave me out of it. I’ve been through enough."
"You have," he says. "And now, you let me handle it. I don’t give a shit how much you kick and scream, Presley. In the end… I always get what I want."
His eyes blaze with determination.Challenge accepted, asshole.
"Fine," I snap. "Go full caveman, see if I care. I’m not your woman."
"You are," he says simply. "Just gonna take you a minute to realize it."
Bloody. Fucking. Hell.I might really be in trouble.
A gagging noise cuts the tension, Agatha, naturally. "If you two are done eye-fucking, let’s roll," she groans.
I turn to Rafe, nervous. "Hey, big brother," I say softly. He’s been ice-cold to me since I stole from Mom and Dad. Kicked me out on my ass. Rightfully so. "I know I didn’t amount to much," I say. "But maybe… maybe I’ll surprise you." Rafe says nothing. Just stares at me, unreadable.
The shame is crushing. I look away, blinking hard.
But then he’s there, kneeling by my side. "Hey," he says roughly. "You’re not a failure. We all fall, Prez. Getting back up? That’s what matters."
I bite my lip so hard it almost bleeds, trying not to cry.
"I couldn’t even deliver a healthy baby. Dropped out of ballet. Stole from you. I hate the woman I am, Rafe. Sometimes I wish I was dead."
It slips out before I can stop it.
Raw. Ugly. True.
"You’re too good for this world," Rygaard says immediately, like he’s been waiting to jump in. "You make us all better, Presley. If you left? We wouldn’t survive it."
Now I’m full-on bawling.
"I’m supposed to hate you all," I sniff. "Shut up." I look at them, Rygaard, Rafe, Agatha and wonder how they can still love me. "I’m not good," I whisper.
"Nope," Agatha snaps. "We’re not doing that pity party shit. If you’re gonna throw a bitch fit, uninvite us. Keifer tried to kill you. But this bitch ain’t dead. So we’re gonna get your ass better, drag his ass out, and fuck his whole world up."
God, I love her fire.
"Agatha’s right," Rafe says, standing up. "Rygaard’s lined up a therapist. Twice a week. You’re not doing this alone, Prez. Not anymore."
He offers his hand.I don’t take it.
But maybe… maybe I don’t have to fight so hard anymore.
Maybe it’s time I let myself lean on someone else.