Chapter 10
Andilyn
Today was supposed to signify a fresh start.
Instead, it feels like my shackles are tighter than ever.
I should’ve had the best sleep of my life last night, but I spent it tossing and turning, unable to quiet the dangerous thoughts infiltrating my mind.
I’ve vacillated between such a range of emotions that I can’t tell up from down or right from wrong.
The amount of white-hot anger pulsing through my veins is astronomical.
It’s searing me from the inside out, changing the makeup of who I am and the woman I was so excited about becoming.
Every hope and dream I relied on to get me through to the next day is nothing more than a sad mirage that will never eventuate.
I was close enough to taste it, the tips of my fingers within touching distance, but a few words from the emergency room doctor was all it took to make my future disintegrate.
In a matter of seconds, my carefully laid plans went up in flames, and all that’s left are the ashes at my feet.
Tobias promised me that he’d always be one step ahead of any underhanded ideas I thought about acting on, but I genuinely believed I’d outsmarted him.
The kicker of it all is that he isn’t even aware of how royally he’s fucked me, and with any luck, he never will.
But I know, and I’ll have to live every day with a constant reminder of the man who took everything from me.
Like the thief he is, he stole my love with a bed of lies, destroying my trust in the process, and now he’s taken something I swore he’d never have.
The only reason I’m not lost in the throes of a full-fledged breakdown is that I refuse to give him the satisfaction.
I’ve been awake for hours, rummaging around for something to take my mind off the crisis I’m actively ignoring.
Raiden’s a terrible liar, but there are worse things to be bad at.
I knew this place was his the second we arrived.
For starters, there’s a parking sticker attached to the back glass of his truck, and the number matches the assigned space he used yesterday.
Aside from that key detail, the inside smells exactly like him, especially the clothing he loaned me.
For whatever reason, it was obvious he didn’t want me to know, so I played the part of a clueless houseguest, biding my time until I was more comfortable broaching the subject.
As I’m standing in the kitchen, debating what to do next to keep my mind occupied, the front door is flung open.
A man ambles in like he owns the place, his body swaying unsteadily before falling face-first into the hard, unforgiving floor.
His pained groan is the only indication he’s still breathing and not succumbing to a head wound.
Edging closer, I watch in fascination as he flops to his back, content with his current resting place and showing no signs of moving anytime soon.
When I come to a stop, he blinks up at me, his dark eyes resembling two pieces of coal.
My gaze drifts downward to his neck, cringing at the graphic tattoo that resembles a gaping wound.
“You look like an angel,” he mumbles deliriously. “Am I dead?”
His question catches me off guard, and I can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. I’ve been likened to a demon, or at the very least harboring one, since before I could draw my first breath.
To hear him giving voice to something that embodies such a juxtaposing idea is the salve of comedic relief I didn’t know I needed.
Presumably drawn by all the noise, another man enters the apartment, his chest heaving as he searches for the source of all the racket.
But this one I recognize, and the sight of him in the flesh and not a grainy picture on an outdated phone screen causes my breath to hitch.
“Jesus Christ, Briggs,” Colsen exclaims, bending in half as he works to catch his breath. Extending his hand, he helps his friend to his feet. “Where the hell have you been?!” His question is accompanied by a firm slap to Briggs’ chest.
“Sabbatical.” His deadpan response only angers Colsen.
“Cut the shit. Did you barter your phone for drugs?” My eyes widen at the implication, but my presence clearly isn’t a deterrent, as neither of them appears to be holding back.
“Xanax is hardly a drug,” Briggs counters with a scoff. “And no, I didn’t. It’s right here.” He digs around his pocket, struggling to pull the phone free. “It’s just dead, and possibly covered in shit.”
“Oh, please! Hop off your high horse. It wouldn’t be the first time you’ve resorted to hocking your shit so you could extend your partying for another day.
And we both know you’re taking far worse than Xanax when you decide reality isn’t cutting it anymore,” Colsen snaps derisively, thumping Briggs in the forehead.
“What the fuck, Col?!” Those coal-colored eyes darken, his glare hot and scathing as he presses his fingers to his aching temples. “How about you hop off my dick and find yourself a girlfriend? You’ve got too much free time on your hands if you’re able to waste your days worrying about me.”
“You know what? You’re right,” Colsen agrees, raising his arms in surrender. “God forbid anyone give a shit about you!”
“What the hell is happening right now?” Raiden waltzes in, bags of groceries filling both of his hands. “You know what, Briggs’ presence is enough of an explanation.”
“Who’re you again?” the bumbling man asks, digging himself into a deeper hole. Even I, a stranger, can tell he knows exactly who Raiden is, but he clearly enjoys riling him up. “Better yet, who is she?” He swings his attention to me, his languid gaze perusing my body.
“Absolutely not.” Raiden drops the bags of food without a second thought, paying no mind to the can of green beans that starts to roll away. “Don’t speak to her. Better yet, don’t even look at her.”
“Down, boy. No need to get your hackles in a bunch,” Briggs taunts, his balance unsteady.
Judging by the strong scent of alcohol wafting off of him, it’s safe to assume he’s inebriated as well.
“Can you do me a solid and call off your guard dog?” His question is aimed at me, completely ignoring Raiden’s warning.
“I can, but I think the word you’re looking for is will I,” I respond in kind, meeting his sarcasm with a heavy dose of my own. Briggs’ smile turns wolfish, as if correcting his grammar is the equivalent of dangling a piece of cake in front of someone who’s recently sworn off sweets.
“Okay, that’s enough from you,” Colsen intervenes, trapping his friend’s retort on the tip of his tongue by slapping a hand over his mouth.
“Go home, before you say something she can’t forget.
” He steers Briggs out the door, but just as they exit, the careless man with a penchant for drug use tacks on one last dig, shouting, “See you soon, Angel!”
“Well, Briggs is back,” Raiden monotones, kicking the door shut with his foot.
“Yep,” Colsen confirms the obvious, his heavy sigh speaking volumes. It’s unclear if he’s relieved by that revelation, or if he’s dreading the headache that accompanies his return. “Apparently, his time away has caused him to forget which apartment is his. I’m so sorry he barged in like that.”
“It’s not your fault. Don’t burden yourself with the actions of others,” Raiden responds, his sage advice causing a wrinkle to form between Colsen’s brows, but then he smiles, the two of them falling into the natural roles of their friendship.
“Regardless, I’ll do my best to keep Briggs in check.” Col bends down, scooping up the groceries Raiden discarded. Then, with his back towards me, he takes a heavy inhale before turning and finally addressing me. “Andilyn Adams.”
“Colsen Wilder.” I take a step closer, entranced by the sheen of wetness shining in his pale green eyes.
I’m not sure which one of us moves first, but next thing I know, I’m in his arms, and another piece of me stitches itself back together.
So many countless nights I spent dreaming of this moment, but no amount of imagining could ever do the real thing justice.
I breathe him in, the smell of sawdust and bergamot cementing itself as one of my new favorite scents.
“I wanted to see you last night, but Raiden insisted we let you settle in first,” Col admits, the pout in his voice unmissable.
I smile, my face pressed against his shoulder since neither of us seems eager to let the other go.
Eventually, we pry ourselves apart, but simply meeting this man who’s changed my life in ways he’ll never understand has brought a lightness to the heavy direction my thoughts had taken since leaving the hospital.
“There’s so much I want to say, and I hate that I have to leave right now, but I need to check on Briggs.
He’ll be coming down, and his mood tends to deteriorate rather quickly, which seems impossible from the show he put on earlier, but believe me when I say it gets a lot worse if he’s not supervised and kept on a tight leash. ”
“No worries,” I reassure him, giving him one last squeeze. “We’ll catch up soon.”