Chapter 15
Kael
Eight weeks. Fifty-six days of watching Bria come back to life.
I'd seen it in small increments at first—the way she held her head a little higher, the way her hands stopped shaking, the way she started eating without being prompted. Then it became bigger: the sass, the laughter, the way she'd roll her eyes at me when I said something she didn't like.
She was becoming the woman I saw underneath the addiction.
I found myself looking forward to mornings—to the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, to the way she'd appear in the kitchen doorway, hair messy, eyes still half-lidded with sleep, and say, "Coffee. Now."
I'd pour her a cup. She'd take it. We'd sit in silence for a while, just existing in the same space.
This is where I wanted to be.
I checked my watch. It was 7:00 AM. Bria would be up soon, and I needed to prepare breakfast.
A loud banging at my front door made me close the refrigerator and head down the hall.
When I opened it, Maya was standing on the porch.
"Move." She shoved her way inside, pushing me hard enough that I stumbled back a step. She stopped in the middle of the living room and turned on me. "Where's my friend at?" She pointed a long black nail in my direction.
Maya was annoying, but she got away with it because everyone knew she'd stick her neck out for the people she loved. I shook off my irritation.
"She's still sleeping. You want coffee?"
She narrowed her eyes. "No, I don't want no coffee.
I want an explanation." She crossed her arms and cocked her hip.
"You told me that you were going to help her, and I was cool with that.
But now, damn near three months later, I find out you had this nurse bitch in here abusing her.
And everybody says you told them not to tell me. "
I met her eyes, keeping my voice calm. "I told them not to tell you because I knew you'd do exactly this."
"Exactly what?"
"Storm in here like a shark that smells blood. She was in the middle of withdrawal, Maya. She was throwing up, shaking, crying. She didn't need you seeing her like that, nor did she need your pity. If your sympathy could have helped her, she would have been sober already. She didn't need you here."
Maya's jaw tightened. "She's my best friend. I had a right to know at the very least. I would have beat that nurse bitch's ass at the most."
"You had a right to know that she was safe. And she was." I stepped closer. "Lena is gone. I handled it. Bria is clean and getting stronger every day. That's what matters."
She stared at me.
"I'm not saying you're wrong to be angry," I continued. "I'm saying I made a choice. I chose to keep her alive, and I'd do it again."
Maya was quiet for a long moment. Then she laughed, though there was no humor in it. "Where is she?"
"Upstairs. Second door on the left."
She turned and headed for the stairs. I didn't stop her.
Maya took the stairs two at a time, and I followed at a distance. She pushed open Bria's door without knocking.
Bria was still in bed, curled on her side, her hair splayed across the pillow. She stirred at the sound of the door, blinking sleepily. "Maya?" Her voice was groggy. "What are you—"
"Get up." Maya crossed to the closet and started pulling out clothes. "Get your stuff. We're leaving."
Bria sat up slowly, confusion on her face. "What? Maya, what are you talking about?"
"I'm getting you out of here." Maya tossed a shirt onto the bed.
"Maya, slow down. What's going on?"
"What's going on is that I just found out that while you were supposed to be getting better, some psycho nurse was abusing you."
"Maya—"
"No. No, Bria. I'm not doing this." She turned to face her friend, tears brimming in her eyes.
Bria looked at the shirt in her hands, then at Maya, and then at the door.
"Get dressed," Maya said. "We're leaving."
Bria didn't move. "Maya, I can't."
"Why not?"
"I can't just—" Bria's voice cracked. "I can't just leave."
"Why not?"
"Because he is the only one who can see me through this."
Maya stared at her. "Bria, that's not—"
"It is." Bria's voice was stronger now. "Everyone else—you, my parents, all the doctors and counselors—you're all too easy on me. You feel sorry for me. You treat me like I'm made of glass, and I take advantage of you all."
Maya shook her head. "That's not true—"
"Yes, it is." Bria stood up, her hands trembling.
"You coddle me. You tell me everything's going to be okay.
You give me space to fail. And I love you for it.
I do. But it's not what I need. I need someone who won't let me fall.
Someone who'll catch me before I hit the ground.
Someone who'll push me when I want to give up.
Someone who'll tell me the truth even when it hurts. Someone I'm fucking terrified of."
She looked straight at Maya. "Kael holds me accountable. He makes me fight. And I need that."
Maya stared at her for a long minute, assessing her. Then she threw her hands up. "This nigga done kidnapped your common sense."
She turned to face me. Tears were brimming in her eyes, but she put on a brave face. "I see you put a little weight back on her. You got her hair and nails done. So I ain't gonna say nothing now since she's taking up for you. Go make us breakfast, simp. You're damn near as bad as Caine."
I watched her go over and pull Bria into a hug before I walked downstairs.