Chapter Twenty-Seven #2
I reach for him, desperate, but before I can touch him, he walks away.
“Aston?” I call.
He hesitates… just for a second, then he keeps going, and he doesn’t turn around.
I drop to the ground, the weight of it all crashing down on me at once. This is it. I didn’t just mess it up, I destroyed it.
Completely.
I stay there for what feels like hours, curled into myself beneath the tree, shivering as the night drags on. Music and laughter drift across from the party, but it feels like it’s coming from another world.
Eventually, I force myself to stand. My head spins a little… too much emotion, too little food, and the champagne is not helping.
I steady myself and make my way back.
I don’t care what I look like.
I slip around the back of the gazebo and duck behind the bar, grabbing a bottle of bourbon without a second thought. If I’m going to get through tonight, I need to forget it ever happened.
Bottle in hand, I head inside and up the stairs.
The kitchen door swings open, and I step through, only to come face-to-face with Amber.
Her eyes drag over me, taking in everything. “Jesus, Annie… are you okay? You look terrible.”
I let out a short, hollow scoff and walk straight past her, not saying a word.
I keep going, straight to my room, ready to shut the world out and drink until I don’t feel anything at all.
***
The next morning, I wake with a pounding headache and a stomach that feels like it’s been through a war.
I managed about a third of the bourbon before everything went fuzzy. Bits and pieces come back to me, but the one thing that sticks, the one thing that won’t blur, is Aston walking away.
That part is crystal clear.
I think Mum came in at some point. I vaguely remember her taking the bottle off me, but I have no idea what I said… and honestly, I’m not sure I want to.
I push myself up slowly, immediately regretting it as my stomach churns. Saliva floods my mouth, and I barely make it to the upstairs bathroom before I’m on my knees, throwing up.
It’s mostly alcohol.
My throat burns as I heave, my body shuddering with each wave.
The door opens behind me, and a familiar hand settles on my back.
“Oh, Annie,” Mum murmurs, gently pulling my hair away from my face as I continue to be sick.
Tears start to fall, mixing with everything else, and when the worst of it passes, she sinks beside me on the floor.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” she says softly, drawing me into her. “Let it out.”
I lean into her, pressing my face into her shoulder as the tears come harder now.
“I think it’s time you lay off the booze,” she adds gently.
I nod, sniffling as I wipe at my face. “I know. I’m sorry, Mum.”
She hugs me tighter. “It’s okay. But you need to talk to Dr. Ludwick about you and Aston. You’ve been avoiding it for months, and I think seeing him with Amber last night hit you harder than you expected…” She pauses. “At least, that’s what I gathered from the slurred words and all the crying.”
I wince. “Was I that bad? I can’t really remember.”
She tilts her head, letting out a quiet sigh. “Annie… I know you’re hurting. But getting drunk alone in your room isn’t the answer.”
Guilt settles heavy in my chest.
“I didn’t tell your father,” she continues. “I said you had a stomach bug and went to bed. If he knew you drank yourself into that state again, he’d be furious.” Her tone softens. “So let’s keep this between us. But I need you to promise me you won’t do it again.”
“I promise,” I whisper. “I’m sorry.”
She studies me for a moment, then nods. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
A flicker of concern crosses her face, but she doesn’t push. “Okay. But will you talk to Dr. Ludwick?”
I nod.
That seems to be enough for her.
She stands, then leans over to flush the toilet. “Well,” she says, offering me a small smile. “First things first… we need to get some fluids into you. And maybe some food.”
“Fluids, yes,” I mutter, pushing myself up slowly. “Food… absolutely not.”
She smirks, sliding an arm around my shoulders to steady me. “We’ll see about that.”
***
It’s been two days since Dad’s party.
Yesterday was spent in bed, hungover and barely functioning. Today, I’m feeling every bit of the emotional fallout that came with it.
Dad left this morning for a press tour with the rest of 12GAUGE-Slayed. They’re heading to Scotland to start work on their new album. When he gets back, there’ll be talk about Staked, another album, the tour we were supposed to go on.
The thought of rehearsing, of being around Aston like nothing’s changed…
Feels impossible.
For a fleeting moment, I wonder if I should just quit. Walk away from the band entirely. Get a normal job. Disappear into something simple where none of this follows me.
I glance up at the clock… eight p.m.
I’m slumped on the couch, mindlessly watching television, bored out of my skull while Ella sits beside me, carefully painting her nails.
Then, out of nowhere, it hits me.
“Let’s go out.”
Ella looks at me, one brow lifting. “Now?”
I nod, a flicker of energy finally pushing through the fog I’ve been stuck in. I need to get out of my head. I need something, anything, other than this.
“Okay…” she says slowly. “Where?”
“I don’t know. A club or something.”
Her lips twitch, and I catch the spark of interest in her eyes. “Really? All right. What are we telling Mum?”
I shrug. “Girls’ night. Movie or something.”
“Perfect.”
That’s all it takes.
We both jump up and head upstairs. I throw on a fitted top and leather pants, something casual enough to pass for a quiet night out, but still decent enough for a club. We can’t exactly walk around town looking like ourselves and expect no one to notice.
I duck into Ella’s room, and she’s halfway through trying on her third outfit.
“C’mon, that one’s fine.”
“I was thinking the black one too,” she says, pulling it down properly before slipping into flats.
We head downstairs together and walk into the living room, where Mum is now curled up with a bowl of popcorn.
“Hey, girls. I was thinking we could have a movie night,” she says, then pauses, taking in our outfits. “Although… I think you might be a bit overdressed for that.”
“We were actually thinking of heading out to see that new slasher film,” Ella says smoothly.
Mum nods. “Sounds good. I’ll get ready and come with you—”
“Actually,” I cut in, forcing a casual smile. “We were hoping for a bit of sister time, if that’s okay?”
She raises a brow, then sighs dramatically. “Of course. I’ll just sit here alone with the dogs and my popcorn… no big deal.”
I grin. “Thanks, Mum.”
“Have fun,” she calls as we grab our coats. “Don’t be home too late. And call me if anyone recognizes you… I’ll have security there straight away.”
“Got it!” Ella calls back.
The second we’re out the door, she turns to me. “I’m driving.”
I laugh. “Perfect. Means I can drink.”
She gives me a look. “Don’t go overboard.”
I roll my eyes. “Relax.”
She doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t push it either.
We head into London, the drive taking about an hour and a half, before we find a smaller club just outside the main strip. Ella parks, and we join the line… only to be waved forward by the bouncer.
I glance at her. She shrugs.
“You ladies can head straight in. VIP’s expecting you,” he says into his radio.
Ella lets out a quiet squeal as we’re ushered inside.
The club hits us instantly—loud music, heavy bass, the sharp mix of alcohol and sweat thick in the air. Bodies move everywhere, pressed together, chaotic and uninhibited.
We head upstairs, flashing quick smiles as we’re let into the VIP section.
“Good evening, Miss Slade,” the bouncer says.
Sometimes being who we are has its perks.
“Drink?” Ella shouts over the music.
I nod, already scanning the crowd as we make our way to the bar.
And then I see him.
Short dark hair, broad shoulders, and ink covering his arms. Gauges in his ears.
Different.
Distracting.
Exactly what I need.
A slow, dangerous smile pulls at my lips.
Maybe tonight, I stop thinking.
Maybe tonight, I forget.