23. Wilder #2
“Tell me what his poison is,” he finally demands, and I sigh, holding the phone away from me for a moment, contemplating what to say.
I crack my neck thinking about the bruises on Reed’s skin, about the mess he made, about how Reed seemed more than used to it.
Then there was the story his father told him, about his younger brother breaking his arm.
Did he do that too? I can only presume he did, and the thought sickens me even more.
My throat feels dry as I try to swallow, like something is lodged there, and my fingers start to twitch around the phone in my hand.
My heartbeat stumbles again, harder this time, and a rush of heat crawls up my neck.
“He beats his son,” I say gruffly, knowing I have more than got his attention now, as another breath catches in my throat. I need to put an end to it. I don’t bother telling him, but I’m sure he hears it all the same.
“Are you fucking him?” he asks boldly, and I choke on another breath.
“Does that matter?” I seethe, trying my best to stay in control, but I am quickly learning that when it comes to my pretty PR assistant, that I am anything but.
“Not particularly,” Cade responds dryly.
“Then just get me something,” I snap, once again struggling to catch my breath, and my cousin sighs.
“Give me a couple of days.”
I nod, ending the call without another word, bending over until my hands can grip my knees.
My heart is still racing, my chest hurting, every breath coming in short pants, and I shake my head as I try my hardest to inhale and exhale normally.
I don’t want to lose control, but it’s no use.
My entire body starts to tremble, my legs shaking, and I have to stumble to the dresser where I left the half empty bottle of whiskey earlier.
Flicking the cap off again, I down three mouthfuls, willing it to replace the burn inside of me, but it doesn’t work.
I have to grip the ledge of the wood just to remain upright.
I think I might be having a heart attack?
Or maybe I’m just going crazy? It would be well deserved after all, right?
I mean, it has to be some sort of karma fuck up to be getting everything I want in life out of my rookie season, while also dealing with more bullshit that I know what to do with.
Maybe this is just my punishment for lying to everyone I care about, and that I’ll end up in hell right next to my cousin.
With the whiskey doing nothing to numb the unstable feeling inside of me, I grab my wallet and leave the room, not stopping until I have stumbled my way up to the roof.
It’s not open to the public, but I ignore the signs, heaving in deep gulps of the fresh night air in the hopes it will help.
It doesn’t, and instead I pull out a joint and light it, pressing my hand to my chest again, willing the pain to disappear.
If Jason were still alive I’m sure he’d laugh at how pathetic I have become, at how his absence weighs on me more than anyone knows.
I’m sure Caden has some thoughts about it all, given how he watched me when I was back home, but since he doesn’t feel things like a normal person, he probably doesn’t realize just how deep his admission runs through me.
My eyes flick up to the moon as I take another drag of my joint, needing the weed to numb my senses, but if anything, it only seems to be making me feel worse.
My eyes track across the sky again, taking in the silver of the moon and the brightness of the stars.
It's not as good as a sunrise, but I can appreciate why Reed prefers it. If he were here, I’d ask him what God I must have pissed off to be in this situation, and even though he would try and disagree with me, I’m sure he would still know the answer.
Just the thought of his name has my fingers flexing, as I take another hit of the joint before stubbing it out.
It’s doing nothing to make me feel better, and I hate that I know exactly what I need to do.
I told myself I wasn’t going to bother him tonight, that now he’s better, I would leave him alone, put things back to normal with him and stop crossing a line.
He’s not my boyfriend, we’re barely even friends, so why do I feel the desperate need to lay eyes on him?
My steps are heavy as I leave the roof, the tightness in my chest still present as I head back downstairs.
It’s almost one in the morning, but still I make my way down the hall until I reach his door, unlocking it as quietly as I can and slipping inside.
It’s mostly dark when I enter, only the soft light of one of the small lamps in the headboard still on, and I inhale softly, as I find Reed curled on his side with his phone still in his hand.
His eyes are closed and he looks peaceful, the sight of him making my hands flex, as I take another deep breath and slowly cross the room toward him.
It’s clear he’s showered, because the bruises he has been hiding from everyone else with makeup are all on display, and I once again grind my jaw at the sight of them.
I don’t care who Caden talks to get dirt on his father, as long as he does it fucking quick.
My fingers reach out and brush along the marks on his neck, letting myself imagine what it would be like to repay every single one of them, and he sighs dreamily. “I was about to send out a search party,” he mumbles sleepily, making me freeze slightly, but his eyes don’t open.
I shouldn’t embrace the feeling of calm that washes over me at the sound of his voice, at the sight of him safe and smiling. “Nice to know you were waiting for me, Blue,” I force out lightly, as I pluck his phone from his hand and toss it on the nightstand.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Miles, you’re the one forcing your way into my bed every night like you’re obsessed with me,” he sighs, stretching out to pull back the duvet on the other side of the bed, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world that I’m here.
We shouldn’t have a routine, but still my heart jumps heavily at the action.
I stand there for a moment, just watching him, and I see the moment his breathing evens out, like his body was waiting for me so he could finally fall asleep.
It fills my chest with something unfamiliar, something that I know should make me turn around and leave just as quick as I came.
Instead, I turn out the light, get undressed down to my boxers, and climb in bed beside him.
The darkness is where all my demons come out to play, it’s why I don’t sleep, because that’s where they find me.
It’s probably why I still find myself chasing the sunrise too, hoping it might erase that night seven months ago, but it never does.
Except when I lie in the dark next to Reed, the demons don’t come.
I still feel them there, but it’s like I’m out of their reach, and I can’t help but wonder why.
I don’t know when it happened, but my body is completely relaxed now, and despite my struggles, I feel his presence pulling me into a slumber.
The last thing on my mind is the words he just mumbled in his barely awake state.
I’m not obsessed with him, but I am becoming addicted, and that’s a problem I’m sure not even sure Caden Miles could kill.