23. Chapter 23
Chapter twenty-three
‘Lias
Seven days is too fucking long when you're addicted to someone.
I'm not sure why I keep checking my phone; obsessively hoping Sadie’s maddening name appears in the notification bar. Calling me a dinosaur, or leaving a voicemail verbally berating me for not coming back—something other than silence.
But no, she’d never reach out first.
That would show weakness. Burden. No reason to add to the self-hatred sitting on the tip of her drippingly sweet tongue.
After all this time I'm still not accustomed to her avoidance.
Of the times she did respond, the messages were full of vitriol.
And, dare I say it, humor? If you look past her anger, of course.
Those were the days my phone never stopped singing.
Rapid fire messages demeaning me and I never got enough, like some masochist with a degradation kink.
I got a chuckle out of seeing her sass in text form.
Over the past week, I've reread every single message. You’d have to torture me to hear me say that out loud, but I’ve kept every single one, from the day we swapped numbers to recently.
Even the innocent inspirational ones she’d send when she was just a girl.
Now all I have is the hush.
The lull of war is louder than this and it's making my skin crawl. What the fuck could she be doing? I mean, she constantly dashes through my head but what else is there? Is she sleeping enough? Eating? Fuck, did she kill her therapist yet?
I managed to stay away for three whole days before I drove by her building—like a lost pup searching for home. Admittedly? Day five, too. I never parked or got out of the truck, though. At least I had the strength to leave instead of sitting there hoping to catch sight of her.
The cameras aren’t enough.
The worst part of all? I don't live in this damn city. My shit's on the other side of the country—a thousand-some-odd miles away collecting dust while I mope around with my self-inflicted emotional wounds.
A few days ago, Mav called me in for a job and I jumped at the opportunity.
You’d think I was behind on bills or jonesing for cash, anything to keep me from thinking about my drug of choice—her.
I didn’t bother listening to the details.
Told him to send the assignment over and I’d start asap.
After that, I was on a plane and out of Dodge.
It enjoyed seeing everyone, even if briefly, because I wrapped the shit up fast, tied it off with a pretty black bow, then I came crawling back to Pennsylvania.
I returned a few hours ago and immediately got to work.
Pages are scattered across the table with photos and details littering the white sheets in crisp black print.
Next to it sits my glass of whiskey beaded with sweat, silently trickling down to the particle board table top.
Some of the pages even manage to soak up the condensation, ensuring it doesn't get too far.
Between plopping my ass down on this chair, and now, I’ve gotten sidetracked on my phone. Hopelessly switching through security feeds and forgetting all about the drink.
As I lean back in a too-small chair, knees spread wide, my right foot bounces anxiously.
I’ve chewed my left thumbnail down to the quick in my worry.
It's not every night I have terrors, as I manage to keep the memories at bay, but the one I had last night has kept me wide awake since oh-three-hundred hours and is eating me alive.
My concentration abandoned me hours ago, so I’ve been obsessively watching the camera feed of Sadie’s apartment. Occasionally skimming documents tossed haphazardly in front of me before I’m inclined to do another visual sweep.
Someone put me out of my fucking misery.
Mav
Video brief in 20.
His message pops up, covering most of the screen and kills my fixation. I'm not angry, okay maybe a little annoyed, but it's a reprieve.
Frankly, I don't know who to feel sorrier for, her or me. We're both living in the same perpetual loop. On a ride we can’t seem to stop or escape. Even hanging off the edge, the g-force pins us in place without allowing either of us to fall off.
I removed myself from the situation but it means fuck all.
I circle back around and rope myself into watching her live through a three by five screen like a creep.
I want to fix every problem for her. Physical, mental, emotional—every damn one of them.
No Band-Aids, super glue, or cement putty.
Completely heal every crack she has because watching her fall apart is killing me.
I can't imagine what it's like to be trapped in her head all the time. How does Sadie do it? Not know who she really is, where she’s at, and what she’s doing?
There are times I want to chain her down to a chair and secure her tormentors to an anvil—I might need to consider more than one when she’s on a rampage.
We’d spend forever there if that’s how long it took for me to convince her the devils in her head are not real.
Just splintered realities and rampant anger she can't cope with.
The voices are hideous lies. Her injuries are caused by her own hands, and the visions are hallucinations from medication side effects.
I’ll never do it. Sadie needs people to believe her.
Not write her off as someone who can’t be helped.
Call it enabling if you want, but it’s far better than watching her hurt herself.
Seeing her blood once was more than enough.
The sight still haunts me, right along with the rest of the memories I long to forget.
Still leaning in the chair, the front two legs hover over the linoleum floor as I chase the rabbit. It’s across the room and over the windowsill, hopping into the evening sky while the last few rays spill into the living room.
Deep purples, blues, and a sharp-red inks the sky.
Specks of glitter are already twinkling further in the distance.
I barely notice the red flickering lights of a small aircraft as it moves across the horizon.
All of the colors bleed and drip together thick and easy, like cosmic wax.
The blobs drag stars with them as they fall to the earth.
Faster and faster, they begin to move. No longer mesmerizing in their fluidity—pouring in long rivulets.
Thumps pound in the center of my chest; slow at first, then gaining speed when the dribbles turn into downpours. It echoes up both sides of my neck then deep dives into my ears, drowning out my twisted thoughts. A hint of iron hits my nose and a memory explodes in my vision.
Pale arms burst through the glass window and reach for me.
Fists open and close in quick succession before they slap around for something to grab ahold of.
Smaller, more delicate, hands grip the cream-colored blackout curtains hanging at the window’s side, and yank them down.
Blood-tinged blonde hair covers the face of whatever’s crawling through the unbroken glass.
I refuse to look away, refuse to blink. If I do, it may move closer in the split second my eyelids close and reopen.
Matted clumps of hair tumble over shoulders where a too-large shirt dangles and hides curves I know too well. Its limbs jerk at odd angles as it stands, arms lifting for me again. One rickety step after another the distance shrinks, leaving watery foot prints and a trail of droplets shortly behind.
My heart lurches when the water fades into a deep red as a nightmare manifesting in the suffocating space. I can’t…can’t see her like this—broken, dying. Of all the shitty dreams I’ve ever had, this one is the worst and I can’t fucking stop it from happening.
My eyes slam shut and squeeze hard enough to send pain pulsing at my temples—panic’s setting in. Next, tightness blooms in my chest and grows heavier with every rushed breath. I’m trying to control it, to will it away, but the metallic stench is getting harder to avoid.
I’m terrified of what’s on the other side of my eyelids, standing inches away, waiting, daring me to look. I know it’s her. The sweet, damaged, beautiful girl I failed at helping.
Fuck, I’ve got to call Kace. That email wasn’t enough.
He doesn’t understand how important this is.
Sadie needs support, and I know he can keep her on track because lord knows I’m not doing her justice anymore.
He’ll ask a thousand questions I can’t answer without destroying her.
I won't let that happen, won't let her get worse by saying the wrong things to him.
What if his anger hurts her too? What if he blames her instead of me?
Do I think that will happen?
Not at all.
That’s not to say she won’t fault me. Her adoptive family treated her as if she were disposable and looking for the perfect moment to cast her aside.
Here we are…
Sadie hasn’t come out and told me, but I have a nagging suspicion that her greatest fear is being unwanted. Too many times I’ve caught her looking at Kace and Nadia with this glint of…envy, perhaps, in her eye.
‘YOU LEFT ME INCOMPLETE!’
The sudden scream from my phone makes me jump and my eyes snap open. Fizzling out in my peripherals, the nightmare finally releases me. I drop the chair back to all four legs with a thump before grabbing the phone to see Mav's name lighting up the screen.
Fuck, it's already been twenty minutes?
I answer the call and prop my phone against my abandoned glass of whiskey as several thumbnail images fill the screen. Many of the same ugly mugs I come to care for, and a new one that I don't care to know.