Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Ican’t sleep again, which isn’t a surprise. I keep thinking about what I could do differently, torn between trying to keep Mackie with me and letting him go. The thought of him leaving, though, makes pain fill my chest.
Can I truly let him go? I know it’s for the best. He has Conan now, and leaving Starfire would allow him to forget the last remnants of whatever we had.
I’m such a fucking liar though. I can’t let him go like that.
I thought I was okay as long as he was close, even as my racer, but the idea of him not being here anymore?
It scares me more than what’s slowly killing me.
I wanted to protect him so he would never hurt, but the bitter truth is, lying to him and pushing him away has hurt him more than that ever could.
I hate that I’m the cause of his pain, and I hate even more that it cost me the one thing in the world that brings me comfort—him.
Everything is so messed up, and as I stare down at the Polaroids we took after our first win, the ache in my chest only grows.
My arms are around him, and his are around me, and we are smiling.
There are no lies, secrets, fake promises, or broken rules, just happiness. When did things get so messed up?
Closing my eyes, I bend over, paralyzed by agony as I try to breathe, but I can’t get enough air.
My lungs scream, and I am so dizzy, I start to see spots.
Panic floods me as my body begins to weaken.
All I feel is the lack of oxygen, my brain shutting down, yet he’s still all I think about until I hear the phone ring.
My hand scrambles wildly until I get my phone and hit a button. “Noah.” He’s slurring and sounds wrong, but it’s his voice, and at the first note, air floods my lungs and I can breathe again.
“Mackie?” I ask as my hand covers my chest while I struggle to control my breathing. The dots in my vision disappear, even though my head still aches.
“Noah.”
I hear music in the background before he curses, and I frown.
“Are you drunk?” I snap as I sit upright. He wouldn’t call me if he wasn’t, but I’m thankful he did, even if it’s because of alcohol. I worry more, however, because he shouldn’t drink this much.
“No,” he retorts angrily. “I just had a few drinks.”
“How many?” I ask roughly, already on my feet.
“Five . . . or ten.” He laughs, and it’s high-pitched. There’s a fumble, and Sky’s voice fills my phone, relaxing me a little since Mackie isn’t alone.
“It’s fine, old man. I can take him home, don’t worry. I told him not to call you. Sorry—”
“Skylar, where are you?” I ask.
He’s silent for a moment, and when he speaks, he sounds unkind. “Don’t ask me that, Noah, if you have no intention of fixing his broken heart. If you are just doing it out of duty or guilt, then let me take him home. He doesn’t need you making it worse.”
“Where?” I ask as I grab my keys and shove my shoes on.
“I mean it, Noah,” Sky protests.
I freeze at my front door. He’s right. I shouldn’t go unless it means something, but I need Mackie right now. Maybe it’s my head or what just happened, but I need him.
I can’t seem to find the will to fight this right now.
“Where?” I ask once more, sounding tired. I know what it will mean if I go there, as does Sky, but I can’t stop myself.
“Bar Five,” Skylar mutters as I climb into the car and start the engine, tossing my phone down as it connects. “I mean it, Noah. Don’t break his heart again. I’m your friend, but he’s my brother. Don’t make me hate you.”
“I’ll be there in ten. Get him to drink some water, and Skylar? You can’t hate me more than I already hate myself.” I hang up and make the twenty-minute drive in under ten.
Pulling up outside of the club, I turn off my engine and ignore the calls and whispers about who I am since I grabbed the closest car and it just so happened to be my custom Bugatti Divon—the one I try to hide since it’s too obvious, but Mackie needs me.
Ignoring the bouncer who tries to stop me, I walk into the club and search the interior.
The pounding music goes straight to my aching head, and the bright lights don’t help, but I narrow my eyes to stave off the pain and look for him.
I find him in a booth at the back. He’s curled into Sky, resting his head on his shoulder.
I march over and meet Skylar’s eyes, who watches me carefully. Ignoring him, I crouch at Mackie’s side, placing my hand on his shoulder. “Mackie?” I murmur as softly as I can. “Come on, let’s get you home, okay?”
“No.” He recoils from my touch, burying his head in Skylar’s shoulder, but there’s something wrong with his voice, and Sky’s eyes look tight.
“Mackie, look at me,” I beg, and he moves closer to Skylar. “Mackie, right now.”
Lifting his head, he glances at me. His face is flushed and splotchy, his eyes are swollen and red, and tears slowly slide down his face as his lip trembles.
He’s crying.
He’s fucking crying.
Fury like I’ve never felt before fills me, and I thrust to my feet, searching for the culprit.
“Who the fuck made him cry?” I roar, and even Skylar jerks back. “Who?” I bellow.
“You, you fucking idiot,” Skylar hisses, and I freeze. Blowing out a breath, I look down when I feel a touch. Mackie’s hand fists my sleeve, and he looks up at me with wet eyes.
“Noah, you aren’t really here, are you? You wouldn’t be.
You wouldn’t come for me.” His words are sloppy as he presses against me, inhaling deeply.
“You smell like him. That isn’t fair. You haunt me, and I hate it.
I hate how I let you break my heart all the time.
Why can’t you just want me the way I want you?
Why does it hurt so much? Why can’t I let you go? ”
His words crack my heart wide open, and I lean down and scoop him into my arms. “Let’s go, Mackie,” I murmur as softly as I can as he buries his head in my neck and sighs. I shiver and try to ignore my reaction as I glance at Sky.
“If you let him drink like this again, you’re track grounded for a year,” I warn him.
“He’s an adult. He can drink if he wants.
You’re lucky he called me so he wasn’t alone,” Skylar snaps as he stands.
“Sort your shit out, Noah, and stop breaking his fucking heart. It’s stupid, and I’m tired of seeing my brother so hurt.
” He softens as he slaps my side. “I know why you’re doing it, but it isn’t working.
Either let him go or hold on, your choice, but you need to make it.
It isn’t fair to either of you. Next time, I won’t call you. Say goodbye if that’s your choice.”
I watch him go, my heart racing at his words.
He called me so I could say goodbye.
He’s giving me one last chance, and I know Mackie is too.
This will be the last time. He’ll be gone tomorrow if I let him.
I leave the club and open my passenger door, kneeling on the wet pavement as I slide him into the seat. Carefully arranging him, I reach over and put his seat belt on, then I grab the water from the compartment in the middle, uncap it, and hold it for him. “Drink this, it will help.”
“No,” he mutters, turning away.
Sighing, I grab his chin and jerk him around so he looks at me, then I force the bottle between his lips and tip it back.
He chokes and tries to pull away, but I slide my hand down and rub his throat until he swallows, then I cap it again.
“Good boy, let’s get you home.” Shutting the door, I hurry around to the driver’s seat and start the engine.
“It’s you, isn’t it? You actually came.” His voice is low and filled with pain.
“Why did you even bother? We both know you didn’t want to.
You should have left me to be everyone else’s problem.
It isn’t fair of you to show up. It isn’t fair that I can’t let you go.
” He falls into silence as my eyes close for a moment.
He’s right. It isn’t fair. I’m a cruel asshole, but when I look at him, I can’t regret it.
“I know,” I admit softly as I press on the gas.
I should take him home, but instead, I drive in the direction of my house.
The entire way, I listen to his soft, heartbreaking cries that he tries to hide from me.
My hands tighten on the wheel as my heart breaks with his.
“Hold on, baby,” I murmur as I lift him into my arms, juggling him as I unlock my front door.
His head lolls on my shoulder. This isn’t the first time he’s slept at my place after a night out, but it feels different tonight as I walk through my house to my bedroom.
Once there, I lay him on the bed, and he covers his face with his arm as I take off his shoes and socks and set them to the side.
Heading downstairs, I grab some drinks and pills, and when I return, I force him to sit up before I offer them to him.
He doesn’t look at me as he takes them, and once he’s done, he rolls onto his side, facing away from me.
“I’ll go home when I can drive,” he mutters, more sober now.
Sighing, I kick off my shoes and climb into the other side, sitting up with my back against the headboard. “You’ll stay until morning, and we’ll talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he snaps.
“Mackie—”
“Don’t,” he protests, and his red eyes finally lock on me. “I’m not in the mood to be shouted at or chastised. I know nothing has changed. I made a mistake when I called you. I won’t do it again.” He turns away from me, or he tries, but I stop him with a hand on his arm.
“You can always call me, and I will always come,” I promise. “That will never change, and I’m not going to shout. Yes, I worry when you drink that much, but it’s only because—”
“You care?” he scoffs bitterly. “Is that what you were going to say? Don’t. I already feel pathetic enough, okay?”
“Why did you drink so much?” I ask, needing to know.
When he doesn’t answer, I turn him toward me so he’s lying on his back, staring up at my ceiling defiantly. I lean over him, blocking his view. “Mackie,” I order.