Chapter 44
“Control” - Halsey
Maeve
“You can go in,” the doctor says, “but only two at a time.”
I’ve never understood why they say that. What’s going to happen if there are three people in the room? Spontaneous combustion?
My parents look at Viv and me and nod, gesturing that we should go see him first. I clutch my sister’s arm, needing her strength as much as she needs mine. We follow the doctor to Bash’s room, and my heart feels like it could bust through a brick wall, it’s pounding so hard.
We hesitate outside the door for just a moment, then Viv grabs my arm and turns to me. “We have to do this,” she says, her voice urgent.
I let her drag me into the room, even though everything within me is screaming for me to run. They’ve pulled a sheet over his head, and my heart plummets to my toes, no longer pounding, no longer even beating.
Viv lowers the sheet, and I’m about to call out to her to stop, to tell her that I don’t want to see him like this, but she moves too quickly. I see his dark hair first, and then the fabric reveals his face. Only it’s not Bash lying there—it’s Pierce.
A guttural wail tears from my throat, and Viv catches me just before I hit the floor.
I try to shut my eyes, to prevent this image from searing itself into my memory, but it’s too late.
His pale face, his lifeless eyes, his unmoving body—they’re already there, erasing all the memories I had of him before, replacing all of the good—
Heart thumping, I bolt upright in bed. I glance around, looking for the monitors and tubes, but I’m not at the hospital at all. I’m in my bedroom, and the sun is peeking through the amethyst velvet drapes. It must be afternoon already.
Refusing to let myself sink back into my pillows—I can’t risk the dream returning—I head to the bathroom for a shower.
My pajamas are sticking to my body. I’ve never sweated so much in my life.
After turning the spray as hot as I can tolerate it, I step beneath it, letting the water scorch the pain of that dream away.
Bash is still in a coma, but the doctor said his vitals are looking good. Pierce waited for me while Viv and I went in to see our brother. When our ten minutes were up, he wrapped me in his arms again and promised everything would be okay.
The crazy thing is that I actually believed him.
I squirt shampoo into my hand and massage it into my scalp. Every time I close my eyes, I can still see the haunting picture of Pierce lying dead in that bed. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out why my brain chose to play such a horrible trick on me.
I should be freaking out right now. My brother is in a coma after nearly dying in a car accident, and I’m okay. I didn’t think I could have received worse news than learning that one of my siblings is fighting for his life. But I was wrong.
If it had been Pierce—
I cover my mouth with a sudsy hand to muffle my cry. Tears are streaming down my face, and I let the water wash them away. I have to get ahold of myself. Bash is going to be fine, and Pierce is more than fine. But my brain won’t stop playing what-ifs.
What if it had been Pierce instead? What if it’s Pierce next time? A sharp, stabbing pain—like someone has shoved a hot poker into my lungs—surges through my chest. I press my hand against the stone wall of the shower to keep from collapsing onto the floor.
I’ve never felt like this before. I love my brother and sister, but this feels different. If Pierce were dead, I’d want to be dead too. I need him like my blood needs oxygen. When did he become necessary to my survival?
You don’t need to tell me the danger of this situation. I’m fully aware.
I love him. I’m in love with him. Do you have any idea how fucking terrifying that is? Being in love with someone means they own a piece of your heart—or if you’re really unlucky, all of it. The minute you give your heart away, you give them the power to hurt you.
It’s not like I didn’t sense this coming. I knew he was doing something to me, that the way I felt about him was changing the more time we spent together. It’s like when the weather app predicts rain, but you have your heart set on a picnic, so you convince yourself the forecast is wrong.
I thought it would be fine. I wanted him more than I wanted to be safe. I thought I could have my cake and eat it too.
As the water rinses the lather from my hair, I try to convince myself that everything will be okay. That Pierce and I will figure this out. That we’ll work something out that doesn’t put my heart at risk. That we’ll be good—happy even.
But even as I think it, I know it’s not true.
Things were fine with us before my feelings decided to get involved, and now I’m not sure how to go back to what we were.
Just the thought of seeing him again makes my heart ache with need.
I need to regain command of the situation, or else my entire life will spiral out of control. I can’t afford to let that happen.
Wrapping a towel around my body and another around my hair, I start applying moisturizer. Even the simple act of doing my skincare routine brings a semblance of peace to my heart. This is all going to work out. I just have to find a way to stay in control.
My phone rings from the bedroom and startles me so bad, I drop the jar of face cream.
It shatters on the floor, spraying ivory-colored lotion all over the tile.
For several seconds, I stand in front of the mirror, immobile as my phone continues trilling with an incoming call.
My mind is racing, going a million directions at once, none of them good.
Is it about Bash? Has he taken a turn for the worse? Has someone else been hurt? What if Pierce—
I cut off those thoughts and take a deep breath. Staring at my reflection, I straighten my shoulders. “Nothing bad has happened. You’re going to go in there and answer the call.”
Carefully avoiding shards of glass, I walk to the bedroom to retrieve my cell from the nightstand. It’s stopped ringing, but I see that I have a missed call from Preston. Relief comes so fast, I have to sit down on the bed as I call him back.
He answers on the first ring. Just hearing his voice slows my heart rate. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says. “I need to tell you something.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, unwilling to face more bad news.
“Okay.” I haven’t even told him about Bash, because my dad wants to keep the whole thing under wraps until he can sell the right story to the press.
He’s an asshole like that, even managing to buy off the hospital, no doubt thanks to his insanely large donations over the years.
Preston takes a deep breath and exhales through the phone. “Janie found out. About us.”
It takes me several beats to process this, and when I do, I want to shout “thank god,” because I’m getting sick and tired of being the other woman. I’ve even considered letting her know myself so that the two of them will finally get divorced, since he has yet to make a move in that direction.
But I don’t tell him any of those things. “Oh no,” I say, forcing sympathy into my voice.
“Yeah.” I can picture him running his hand through his hair. “She’s filing for divorce.”
I’ve been asking him for this exact thing almost since the beginning, because I hate the stigma of an affair, even if the sneaking around has been pretty hot. If he’s not going to take matters into his own hands, then let his wife, for fuck’s sake.
“How did she find out?” I ask.
“She found my burner phone. She doesn’t know who I’m seeing, though, and I didn’t tell her.”
This is an unexpected blessing. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, actually,” he says, his tone lightening, “this means we can finally be together.”
My head spins. Is that what it means? Do I even want to be with him? Maybe it’s not about what I want but what I need. And right now, that’s regaining some semblance of control. If everything around me is falling apart, maybe this is exactly what I need to feel safe again.
“It’s about time.” I force a laugh and clutch the phone tighter. “It’s been a year and a half.”
“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to hurt her, you know?”
“Yeah, I know,” I say soothingly. “But it’s all going to be okay.”
“I hope so.” There’s another big sigh. “Can you come stay with me? She kicked me out, so I’m at the Allerton.”
My thoughts immediately fly to Bash, who’s lying in a hospital bed, waiting for surgery. I can’t tell Preston anything yet, thanks to my bloody father, but at least he didn’t suggest leaving the country together. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be there in a few hours.”
After we hang up, I get to work packing an overnight bag. I’ll stop at the hospital and see how my brother is doing on my way to Preston’s hotel.
I know you’re wondering how I could choose him over Pierce, but that’s because you don’t know Preston the way I do. He’s a good guy. Sure, he doesn’t always make the right choices, but who does? The two of us are good together. He allows me the control I need in order to function.
What Pierce and I have scares me. What we have together is like dynamite. One stray spark and the entire thing will blow up in our faces. Preston is more like a flint. You have to work hard to get the flame going, but at least there’s no chance of an explosion.
There are some things in life more important than love—like safety. My heart craves something secure, something I can count on. Pierce may be doing and saying all of the right things right now, but what about tomorrow? What about next week or next year? He’s volatile. Together, we’re dangerous.
The chance of getting burned is just too high with him. And I can’t take the risk.
I zip the suitcase shut and set it on the floor, then reach for my phone charger beside the bed. I’m winding it up when there’s a sound from the hallway. Fear shoots through my veins as I look for the nearest weapon.
But when Pierce appears in the doorway of my bedroom, I realize the weapon I need isn’t something I can hold in my hands.