Chapter Thirty-Two #3
“Anna, I can see her. Am I going crazy? I’m going fucking crazy!
I’ve never seen her before, not with my eyes open.
Anna, help me. Make it stop. Make her go away.
I can’t stand it,” he rambles, backing up so much that he falls off the bed and then scurries back against the wall, clawing at his eyes.
My hand shoots to my mouth in shock, my heart pounding ferociously in my chest.
Johnny rushes over and holds his hands. “Colt! Stop! You’re not going crazy. Dee’s really here. It’s her. She’s here to help you,” Johnny talks calmly, but Colt still has that terrified, wide-eyed stare.
“It’s a lie. Don’t lie to me, Johnny. She’s never here.
She’s not here. I’m going crazy. Kill me, Johnny, just kill me.
I can’t stand it anymore.” Colt’s struggling on the floor against Johnny.
That’s when Anna walks over and slaps Colt hard across the face, his neck twisting so far with the force of the slap.
He stops fighting and rests his head against the wall, his eyes shut. “I can smell her,” he yells.
I’ve never seen someone as troubled as he is right now. He thinks he’s imagining me, that he’s going crazy.
God, this is hard to watch.
Johnny wraps his arm around Colt, and he leans into Johnny’s chest.
“Stop it! Just… fuck off!” Colt’s voice is hoarse, thick with agony.
“Fuck off, Dee! You’re not real. You’re never fucking real.
” His body shakes, violent tremors wracking through him as he curls in on himself.
“I can’t do this. I can’t stand it.” His breath hitches, the words breaking apart between sobs.
He turns blindly toward Johnny, his hands fisting his hair like he’s drowning, like he’s reaching for an anchor. “Johnny, make her go away.” His voice shatters. “Please. Just… just make her go away.”
Well, shit.
He doesn’t want me.
The words lodge in my chest like a blade, twisting, cutting deeper with every second.
I feel dizzy. Unsteady. My head spins, thoughts colliding into each other, messy and panicked.
I don’t know what I’m even doing here.
Why did I come?
What the hell was I thinking?
I push up from the bed, but my legs barely hold me. I stumble, colliding with the wall, my palms flattening against it as I squeeze my eyes shut.
For fuck’s sake.
Why did I think this was a good idea?
I can’t think. Can’t breathe.
All I can see is him.
Colt.
His face twisted in pain. His voice, raw and broken, telling me to fuck off.
There’s a warm hand on my shoulder, steadying me. I blink up through tear-soaked lashes, my vision blurred, my breath stuttering out in gasps. “H-he doesn’t w-want me, Anna.” My voice cracks, the words barely making it out through the sobs.
Colt suddenly stands and looks at me in a way he never has before, and I have no idea what it means. “I want you, Dee,” he says, then rushes toward me, taking me in his arms and flinging me to the bed. His hands grab my wrists, and he holds them above my head as I look into his eyes.
“I can feel you. I need to feel you,” Colt says while Johnny and Anna stand back.
“Colt, I’m here. I’m right here.”
His eyes are slits, and his nostrils are flaring. “No, you’re not. You’re a damn figment of my imagination, and you’re hurting me, so I’m going to hurt you,” he says, holding onto my wrists so tightly it’s painful.
“Colt, you’re hurting me.” And now I fear I’m looking into the eyes of a madman.
“That’s the idea,” he says, glaring at me with his face scrunched up in anger.
I close my eyes.
The Colt I love is nowhere to be seen.
And this version of Colt? Well, I want nothing to do with him.
Suddenly, he’s pulled from me, but his hands don’t let go of my wrists, and I yelp as I’m dragged up with him.
“Colt, let her go. Now,” Johnny yells as he tries to pull Colt’s hands away from my wrists. I struggle to help Johnny free Colt’s hands while he stares at me, baring his teeth.
“Colt, it’s me, Dee. I’m here with you. Please stop. You’re hurting me,” I beg.
Anna stands back with her hand covering her mouth.
I continue to struggle before Johnny finally frees my wrists from Colt’s grip. My wrists are red and throbbing from where Colt had such a tight grip. He pushes Johnny and escapes to the living room.
Anna’s by my side in an instant, and Johnny takes off after Colt.
I burst into hysterical crying and collapse on the bed.
“Oh, Dee, I’m so sorry. I had no idea he’d react that way.
He’s seriously off his head. It’s not him talking…
it’s the drugs. You know that, right?” she asks, wrapping her arms around me.
I hear yelling from the other room, but I don’t listen.
I’m in too much pain—physically and emotionally—to even think about what’s happening out there.
Then comes the anger.
A tidal wave of fiery red-hot adrenaline surges through me that brings me to my feet. So I walk out to where Johnny and Colt are arguing.
Everyone in the room is waking and watching.
“For fuck’s sake, Colt, snap the fucking hell out of it and realize what you’re doing.
Dee’s here. She came here to help you, and you pretend like it’s not fucking real.
Then, to top it the fuck off, you damn well hurt her.
You’re a fucking disgrace. I’ve had it up to here with you, you arsehole!
You deserve everything you fucking get,” Johnny berates and walks off to another room.
I have never, ever seen Jonny this irate.
Colt looks up and notices me standing in the doorway. He rubs his nose aggressively, his eyes searching the room. “I need it! Just one hit. It’ll get rid of her,” he says.
A switch flips inside me.
Colt’s looking for a baggie, and I’ll be damned if he takes that shit in front of me. My legs move before I tell them they are allowed to, and I storm over to him as he searches the room, mumbling, “I need to get rid of her.”
I pull on his shoulder, spinning him around. He’s off balance, so he stumbles slightly, and I can’t hold back as I tighten my fist and thrust it forward into his gut.
He exhales loudly as he hunches over.
“For God’s sake, get a fucking grip, Colt. Look at you! Look at what you’ve become. You’re not the man I fell in love with. You’re nothing like him. I don’t know this new version of Colt, and I don’t intend to. I’m fucked if I know why I even bothered,” I say and turn to walk out.
“Dee?” he asks, and I turn back. He’s looking at me, and I note a small spark that was missing before.
“Baby, are you here? Is that really you?” he asks, straightening and walking over to me.
Finally! He’s realized that this isn’t all some fucked up dream.
“No illusion could punch that hard.” His hand comes up and caresses my cheek, and the relief that floods his face is evident as his bottom lip quivers and his eyes well up. I lean into his touch as I see a glimpse of my Colt returning in his eyes.
“I’m here,” I reply, resting my hand on his as he caresses my cheek.
Colt exhales, his breath warm against my lips as he rests his forehead against mine, his dazed, searching eyes locked on me.
He leans in, so close my breath catches, my pulse hammering beneath my skin.
I close my eyes as his lips brush mine—soft, hesitant, like he’s afraid I might disappear.
The kiss is gentle at first, our mouths barely moving, testing, remembering.
But then my lips part, and his tongue slides against mine, coaxing, claiming.
He doesn’t taste like Colt.
Not the Colt I know.
The fresh, minty taste of him is gone, replaced by something darker—stale liquor, tobacco, regret.
But I don’t care.
I let him kiss me. And I kiss him back.
His hand slides to my hip, fingers digging in just enough to make my skin tingle, and he pulls me against him, body to body, heat to heat.
A shiver races up my spine, goose bumps exploding across my skin.
My fingers rush into his hair, tugging, anchoring, holding his face to mine as our kisses turn hungrier, needier.
Months of loneliness, of missing him, of aching for this—every ounce of it pours into this moment.
We don’t just kiss.
We devour.
Our breathing is harsh, ragged, and then he moves—walking me backward, step by shaky step, like he can’t bear to let go even for a second.
I don’t know where we’re going. I don’t care.
Distant chuckles reach my ears, but they barely register. Nothing exists outside of him.
We reach the penthouse suite door, and Colt finally pulls away, his chest rising and falling, his lips swollen from our kiss.
But his smile? It’s radiant. Overwhelming.
Like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.
He opens the door, gripping my hand like he’s afraid I’ll slip away, and pulls me inside.
Just before the door closes, I glance back at Anna, who’s grinning, eyes shining, like she knew this would happen all along.
Colt tugs me deeper into the suite, his urgency crackling in the air.
When we reach the bedroom door, he turns, pulling me flush against him, trapping me between his solid frame and the hardwood.
His lips crash into mine again, this time hotter, deeper, a desperate, consuming kiss that sends my world spinning.
Before I know it, I’m stumbling backward into the room, laughter bubbling from my lips as he follows.
His fingers find the hem of my shirt, tugging it up, over my head in one smooth motion. Then he pauses. Smiling. Drinking me in like I’m the first good thing he’s seen in forever.
The shirt drops to the floor, forgotten, as he leans down, his mouth trailing along the curve of my neck, setting my skin on fire while his hand grasps my neck in his signature move.
I giggle, the sound breathless, half laugh, half moan.
He pulls me toward the bed, and just like that, nothing else matters but us.