Chapter 46 #2
I give up at that point and hurl my phone across my room, only angering myself more when I hear my screen smash.
As I’m reaching down to pick it back up to examine the damage, I hear my door open, and I’m disappointed when Mom walks into my room and not Eden.
She must have heard the thud, because she leans against my doorframe and frowns at my phone in my hands.
She’s still holding her car keys, so she must have just gotten back.
“Tyler,” she says.
“What?” I snap. Yeah, I’ve added another crack to my phone.
I am always smashing the damn thing, but it always feels so good just to throw something.
Sometimes, I wonder if Dad felt the same satisfaction when he threw me around.
I hate him, but there are moments where I think that maybe I might understand him.
“Okay, so you’re still in a bad mood,” Mom states, releasing a tired sigh.
“I’m not in a bad mood,” I argue, turning to face her directly. I throw my phone down onto my bed and fold my arms across my chest, staring evenly back at her.
“Yeah, sure.” She purses her lips at me and her eyes grow sad. She lowers her voice and softly asks, “Why did you curse at me like you did earlier?”
“Because I’m an idiot, Mom!” I yell at her. I am craving a buzz more than ever right now, and I am quickly losing my patience. I still feel bad about the way I spoke to her earlier, but I really can’t deal with her questioning me about it. I’m already dealing with enough as it is.
We argue back and forth, growing more and more exasperated with each other, until finally, Mom gives up and leaves my room, most likely feeling even more disheartened than she did when she first entered.
I do feel bad, and I contemplate heading out right there and then to meet Declan, but dinner is soon, so I decide to hold off.
It’s only for a couple hours. I can cope until then.
Even when dinner does roll around, my mood hasn’t improved.
Mom was right, I am in a bad mood, and I can’t even hide the disgruntled expression I’m wearing as we all sit around the kitchen table.
Minus Jamie. He’s at his friend’s house for dinner, which leaves us as only a family of five tonight.
Mom is trying to keep the conversation happy and light, and Dave is talking about some meeting he had at work today, but I am totally tuned out.
I am staring across the table at Eden, my gaze never leaving her.
I watch as her mouth curves when she speaks, as she glances down at her lap every so often, as she frowns uncertainly when Mom sets a dish of barbecue ribs down on the table.
She doesn’t ever really look at me. I think she is still waiting for me to choose which option I am taking in regards to Tiffani, but the truth is I’m not taking either option.
“I can’t sit here,” I announce, pushing my chair back from the table and getting to my feet. The smell of those ribs is making me feel sick, but that’s not the only reason I refuse to stay. My desire for a hit is growing stronger every minute. “I’m heading back upstairs.”
Mom immediately looks at me. She is standing behind Dave, her hands on his shoulders, her smile faltering. “But yours is just comin—”
“I’ve got some stuff to do,” I cut in. Nothing will make me stay at this table, not when I can sense Eden’s anger at me. As I leave the kitchen, I call over my shoulder, “I’ll heat it up later.” Yeah, when the munchies kick in .
I head up to my room, taking two steps at a time, and I fire Declan another message asking if he can hook me up as soon as he possibly can.
I am desperate now, but he isn’t replying.
I try to call Tiffani again instead, but it’s yet another failed attempt.
If she doesn’t talk to me tonight, I will have no other choice but to turn up at her house tomorrow.
That’s most likely what she wants me to do anyway. She’ll want to see me beg.
As I impatiently wait for Declan to get back in touch with me, I sit down on the edge of my bed and interlock my hands between my legs, focusing on nothing in particular as I try to calm my breathing.
I listen to the silence in my room, inhaling, exhaling.
It is quickly interrupted when Eden walks straight in without even knocking first.
“We’re watching Chase,” she casually informs me, her voice back to its usual husky tone. “Jamie’s maybe broken his wrist.”
My eyes immediately flick up to meet hers as my heart misses a beat.
It is such a sensitive subject, and I am so protective that I am instantly on my feet and walking toward her.
I am ready to kill someone. “What happened? Where is he? Who?” I ask, and already I can find my body heating up from the panic that is flooding through me.
Dad used to break my wrist all the time.
Confusion crosses Eden’s calm features. “What?”
I shouldn’t have asked who did it. That was my subconscious asking that, a question that is so ingrained in me from my childhood. There was always someone behind my injuries. I clear my throat and swallow hard. “I mean, how?”
“I think he fell on it,” Eden says with a small shrug. She is still analyzing me, confused by my questions, and I know I slipped up there. I just hope she doesn’t think too deeply about it. “I heard you’ve broken yours, tough guy,” she adds in a lighter tone, a small smirk on her face.
What the hell? How does she know that? And why is she joking about it? I broke my wrist three damn times in one year, because my father was out of control. “Who told you that?” I demand.
“Um, Chase,” Eden says quietly. Clearly, she didn’t realize just what exactly she is reminding me of. She bites down on her lower lip and searches my eyes for answers. “What’s wrong?”
Oh, Chase . He can’t have told Eden the truth about Dad because even he doesn’t know the truth. He only knows that growing up, his big brother always seemed so clumsy. “What else did the kid tell you?” I ask. I have to make sure. There are so many things his young, innocent self could say.
“Nothing,” Eden breathes.
I step closer to her, my eyes never leaving hers. “Are you sure?”
“Stop freaking out,” she tells me, though she looks uncomfortable with my reaction. “I’m sure.”
I should be trying harder to hide my emotions right now, but for some reason, when it comes to Eden, I don’t care if she sees. I’m alarmed at the thought of her knowing about my past, and she can most likely see the panic and the fear in my eyes.
“You know what?” I say, finally releasing all of my emotions in the only way I know how: as anger.
“I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with you, and I can’t deal with Tiffani.
I can’t deal with your dumb questions, and I can’t deal with Tiffani’s whining.
I can’t deal with any of it right now.” I walk away from her, striding into my bathroom and resting my hands on my sink.
I keep my head low, focusing on my breathing again.
I was trying so hard to keep it steady before Eden walked in on me.
I need Declan to answer me. I need him to give me something that will allow me to forget about today for a few hours.
“You’re getting so worked up,” Eden says. She has followed me into my bathroom, and I can sense her hovering by my side.
“Watch the door. The lock is fucked,” I tell her through gritted teeth.
I am growing more frustrated with each second that passes.
The bathroom seems to be getting smaller and smaller.
I feel like I am suffocating. When Eden tries to place her hand on my arm, I can’t handle her touch. I flinch away from her.
“I need a hit,” I admit, my voice seething as I reach up to open my cabinet above my sink.
I see my antidepressants, the bottle knocked over on its side.
Did I take them today? I reach up to the top shelf and desperately fumble around until I find the cash I have stored up there.
It’s some of the cash I’ve made from selling Declan’s shit, and lucky for him, it gets sent straight back his way.
I’m a loyal client, I guess. I slam the cabinet door shut again, but when I try to turn around to leave, I find that Eden has thrown herself in between the door and me.
“Don’t even think about it,” she threatens, pressing into my chest. She has her chin tilted up, her jaw clenched, her eyes set solely on mine. She is being serious.
“Eden,” I whisper. I lean forward, moving my lips to her ear so that she can hear and understand me perfectly clearly, and I growl, “I. Need. A. Hit. Right. Now.” If only she knew just how desperately.
She glances down at the cash in my hand, then back up at me. “Because coke is totally going to fix everything, right?”
“Eden,” I say, this time more firmly. Right now, she really shouldn’t try and stop me. I am meeting Declan and getting the high I need whether she likes it or not. “Move your cute ass out of my way before you really piss me off. I gotta meet Declan.”
“I’m not letting you,” she says, pushing closer up against me, her chest against mine. Her gaze is fierce and unrelenting.
“It’s not fucking up to you!” I yell, slamming my hand into the wall behind her, right by her ear.
As soon as I do it, I regret it. I don’t want her to see me like this, so angry and so desperate and so pathetic.
I don’t want her to see my violent side, because violence is never, ever necessary. I learned that at a young age.
Suddenly, Eden slides out from in front of me and throws herself against my bathroom door.
It closes and she presses hard against it until it clicks into place.
All of the color drains from my face as my jaw hangs open.
No fucking way did Eden just do that. We are now both trapped in here, in this tiny bathroom, just the two of us with no possible way out, and if I wasn’t suffocating before, then I definitely will now.