Chapter 29
Indie
you and me - lifehouse
“Morning, sleepy,” Jenna says to me softly, my knuckles rubbing against my eyes as I stretch out on my bed.
Fuck, my head hurts, as does my throat. It feels raw from the amount of vomiting and crying I did through the night. Not drinking alcohol for six years, and almost drinking an entire bottle of whiskey, it’s left me feeling like my body isn’t my own.
My voice is as rough as gravel when I answer her, “Hi.”
Regina walks over, handing me a cup of coffee, holding out two aspirin as she sits on the edge of my bed. “How are you feeling?”
I take the tablets first, washing them down with the bottle of water I cradled all night. “Do you want an honest answer?”
I want to lie, and it feels a lot easier to do now, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s the dark cloud that follows me around everywhere. I’ve lost the ability to care about the truth.
I take the steaming cup from Regina as Jenna adds, “Of course.”
My thumb runs along the rim as I stare down into the swirling brown liquid. I don’t think I could truly pack into words how I’m feeling without worrying anyone.
It’s better to keep it locked inside.
So instead, I opt for the one that everyone won’t be surprised at. “Lost, so fucking lost.”
I woke up to use the bathroom a few hours ago to find the girls and Rex scattered around my room. Rex sleeping against the door, Regina at the foot of my bed, and Jenna curled up on the armchair.
The image blew the breath right out of my lungs, because there was only one person missing to fulfil that childhood sleepover memory, and he’s dead.
Saint is still gone, and this isn’t a nightmare I’ve woken up from.
It’s my damned reality.
“Oh, Indie,” Regina whispers, hand running up and down my leg over the duvet.
I swallow the hot liquid down. It soothes my throat, less gritty from the silence I’ve held for almost a week. Glancing at Jenna, I say, “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
I’d never forgive myself if she witnessed what those dark, alcohol-filled thoughts had me teetering with. That would haunt me in the afterlife.
She comes over and sits on the bed, back resting against the headboard. “Have to admit, I thought you were going to jump.” There’s a nervous laugh mixed in with her words, and a knowing look passes between us.
When I shift my gaze over to Regina, she looks equally worried. “I just wanted to go up and clear my head.”
Lying really is easy when you feel like this.
Regina squeezes my hand. “You’ve been through a lot the last couple of weeks, we understand. If you were holding up totally fine, then I’d be really fucking worried. But talk to us, Indie, okay?”
I give her the best smile I can, and it feels so unnatural.
When the weight of two pairs of eyes gets too heavy, I shift in the bed, knotting my fingers around the mug and looking at Jenna. “Are you okay? You know, with Rex having stayed in the room?”
I was so taken aback at seeing her outside of her room last night, that this morning I thought I made it up in my head.
“He comes to see me every single day. That was the first time I felt safe outside of the room. Besides, even if I was uncomfortable, I could have dealt with it for a night to make sure you were okay.”
Guilt rears its ugly head.
Jenna’s been through enough; I can’t put this kind of stress on the people that care about me.
My stomach squirrels as shame begins to wash over me. “That’s good, Jenna. But please don’t do that for me, honestly, I don’t deserve it.”
She shifts from the other side of the bed, sitting herself so she’s shoulder to shoulder with me. “Okay first, enough about me, we’re talking about you, Indie, don’t deflect.”
Regina tips her head, swallowing as she lowers her mug. “She’s good at that, isn’t she?”
My eyes roll, but there’s a tug at my lips, one that feels natural this time.
“Of course you deserve it. You think we’re not gonna hold you up in the bad times? You’ve literally been masquerading as a damn assassin. Killing dickheads because of what they did to you, did to Gina, to me! Not many people could say their friends went to those lengths for them.”
My throat tightens, and I can feel the burn building at the back of my eyes. “Not everyone has friends like us.”
“Exactly,” Regina says, looking up at me through her lashes.
Leaning over to place the mug on the bed frame, I run my hands through my knotted hair. I can’t remember the last time I cared to brush it. “Everything just feels heavy right now. I don’t know how to put it into words. Saint’s…”
My mouth clamps shut.
It’s one thing torturing myself with the reality in my head; it’s another to let the words freely pass my lips.
A warm hand slips over mine, squeezing it the same way the vice permanently grips around my heart. “I know, you don’t have to say it,” Jenna whispers.
I never want to voice it.
We can’t even have a funeral, no idea where they’ve buried his body, if they’ve even done that at it. It could be lying in a ditch somewhere; they could have burned him.
God, they could have even—
Regina’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and saves me from the downward spiral. “We’ll be here every step of the way, Indie. They won’t get away with this.”
“I’ll even join those damn training sessions, get myself into the badass bitches club,” Jenna jokes, and I huff a laugh whilst shaking my head.
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and I let my heart regulate its beats.
The Pit is quiet. None of its usual chatter that’s always like a low-volume TV occurs.
Everyone feels the loss.
Saint wasn’t just the leader of this place; he gave these guys a chance. A lot of them knew no other life, and others due to their track records that led them down the wrong path. Yet, Saint took a chance on them all, him and his dad. Keeping them right.
My body has a sudden vibration flowing through it.
I miss him so God damn much.
I jerk when Jenna breaks the silence. “I have to ask, because I’m your best friend. But did they…did they hurt you?”
“No,” I answer, “it was…close. Morgan, he held me down whilst Conrad tried. The tunnel was pitch black. I-I couldn’t see.”
My voice wobbles, even though I can’t stop the onset of word vomit, throat thickening like a vice is clamped around it when I think of just how close I came to that again.
My skin erupts in what feels like hives, but when I look at my arms, nothing’s there; the imaginary flare has my anxiety sky rocketing.
Regina’s hand reaches for my back as she rubs soothing circles. “Breathe, Indigo. You’re alright.”
“Do you want some meds? I could ask the doc if she could give you some. They calm me down when it gets bad, even let you get a rest,” Jenna adds, rising from the bed.
Sleep does sound appealing, even if it does give me just the tiniest bit of a God damn break. “Yeah, maybe I’ll try that.”
Jenna rushes out of the bedroom, and my heart tugs at the sight. She seems so comfortable moving around right now, I hope it’s not forced for me.
Arms wrap around my shoulders as Regina ushers me to rest my head in her lap. Her fingers move through my hair, and she gently eases apart the tugs that have formed. “You’re safe now, that’s all that matters.”
A tear slips down my cheek and onto her lap. I might be safe within the fortress of the Pit, but it’s my mind I’m most worried about; that’s something I can’t escape.
Only Saint had the force to chase away those demons.
She gently squeezes my arm. “You should eat, or else your mom will come in here and add to the headache you’re nursing. I’ve to send her evidence that you’ve actually managed something.”
I groan into her lap, “Great.”
Mom’s been coming in to check on me, but most of the time I’ve been faking sleep. I’m so glad she’s here and safe, but God it’s hard to look at her, knowing she’s the one who sees every emotion I won’t voice.
Regina’s been holding her down for me, like she does with everything that goes to shit in my life.
“Can we not tell my mom about…anything? I don’t want her to worry.”
I could already see the stress that took its toll on her from me being held at Conrad’s. Even though it was only a day, time seemed to stop for us all.
And she’s just as upset as everyone else about…Saint.
Then there’s the whole shit with Morgan; he’d become more than a friend to her over the last few years. She’s spent all this time believing he was one of the good guys, someone that didn’t want to rush her into anything physical, happy to keep it platonic as long as she did.
Deep down, he had the capabilities of a monster, held me down, and let my abuser attempt ruining my life for a second time. If she knew about that, it would fucking destroy her. If I can keep at least one person’s heart from becoming corroded, it’s hers.
“Sure, it’s yours to tell.”
When Regina manages to get all the tugs out of my hair, her fingers run through the strands freely, and it has exhaustion seeping into my bones, my coiled-up shoulders managing to release just enough that I feel like I’m sinking into the bed.
The door knocks, its hinges creaking when I hear it gently push open, and Dawson’s voice fills the room, sending my pulse roaring and chasing the tiredness away. “She’s agreed to come tomorrow.”