Fuck.
Cassia shoves past me and rushes into the crowd of gyrating men and women. I call her name, but she doesn’t stop. She screeches for people to move, the panic in her voice sounding like it’s tearing her voice box apart. My brain throbs in my skulls, bruising itself against bone. Fuck! Will someone please remind me why I thought having a party was such a good fucking idea?!
I bend low and pull my shoes on. “Where are they?”
“They’re in the kitchen.” Max says, nervously rubbing his hands over his shaved head. “I’ve got to call an ambulance and you gotta get these people out of here.”
Shit. “Don’t call the ambulance.”
I rake my fingers through my hair and dive into my room. I run to my t-shirt drawer, pull one out and toss it over my shoulder.
“Don’t call an ambulance? Caleb, Fiona’s in bad shape.” He shouts from the door.
“I’ll take her.” I grab the keys to my truck and slip my driver’s license into my back pocket. “You and Jason work on clearing everyone out of here. Drew, Cassia and I will get Fiona to the hospital.”
Taking Fiona to the hospital myself is the only option. The police could show up at any second and I’m totally fucked if a girl dies on my kitchen floor. Not to mention the shitstorm that will ensue when they discover all the different kinds of drugs that are floating around the house—and what about Dad? He’s not going to be able to handle this kind of scandal. His flock will turn on him like a thirsty pack of wolves.
I rush out the door, launching into the throng of fucked up people. They’re oblivious to what’s going on inside. Slick, stranger skin slides against mine and it’s gross as hell, but I keep pushing through.
Before long, I’ve slipped into my gray tee and I’m standing in the empty kitchen watching Cassia and Drew roll Fiona onto her side. She’s foaming from the mouth, her body shaking violently. Her eyes are white, her skin blue. Half of the house is dead still, looking on like it’s a damn theatre show. The other half are as oblivious as the assholes outside.
“What did she take?” Cassia demands, pushing her hands through her hair.
Drew pushes himself to his feet and backs up, panicked. “I don’t know. Some pills. Coke. Weed. Whatever the fuck else she got her hands on.”
The front of his forest green shirt is wet and sticks to his skin.
“And you didn’t stop her?” Cassia demands, tears rolling down her face.
“You try telling the girl no. She’s a fucking nightmare!”
I step into the kitchen as Cassia jumps to her feet and shoves Drew hard in the chest. “You should have kept an eye on her!”
He bounces back a few steps before launching forward, shoving his face an inch from hers. “I’m not her fucking father! Where were you?”
“Enough!” I push Drew back a foot. The fucking nerve of him. “We have to get Fiona to a hospital.”
Looking at Drew I can tell he’s not sober either. His skin is clammy, his oily pupils dilated, and there’s a nervous twitch to his movements. He might not be sober, but at least he knew when to stop.
“Help me get Fiona into my truck.” I tell him. “We can deal with the rest later.”
He glares at Cassia over my shoulder. She should tread lightly because he’s going to snap. Panic glistens so clearly in his dark eyes. He already blames himself. He doesn’t need anyone else shoveling it onto him.
Drew nods. “I’ll carry her.”
Cassia moves out of the way as Drew steps around me. He bends low, scooping Fiona into his arms like she weighs nothing. Her body is limp. Lifeless.
“She’s going to be okay, right?” Cassia asks me, slipping her hand into mine.
I squeeze it and swallow my uncertainty.
“Yeah.” I tell her, tugging her into me. She wraps her warm, slender arms around my waist and I plant a kiss on her damp forehead. “She’ll be okay.”
I swear my ribcage compresses with my lie, constricting my heart. I don’t know if Fiona is going to be okay. I don’t know if we’ll get her to the hospital in time or if we’ve already taken too long…
…I just don’t know.
*Cassia*
We reach the hospital in record time. I sit in the front with Caleb while Drew cradles Fiona in his lap on the backseat. I glance over my shoulder as he smooths his hand over her head and wipes her face with his t-shirt. She doesn’t look good…her lips are blue and her skin is pale. I can’t tell if she’s breathing or if she’s even alive. I should have stayed with her. I should have used the bathroom and then went straight back to her. Maybe I could have prevented that final hit. I sniffle as I reach for my seatbelt and struggle to unclip it. I growl in frustration as Drew gets his door open, but I can barely undo my damn seatbelt! Caleb reaches over, slipping his hand underneath mine. With a gentle push, the seatbelt releases me. A tear rolls off the tip of my nose and drips onto the back of his large hand. I swipe at my face as Caleb slides his palm onto my thigh. I look at him and his expression turns sympathetic. I normally find reassurance in the depths of his beautiful green eyes…but not tonight.
“She’ll be all right.” He tells me, stroking my skin with his thumb.
I nod and the back door slams shut. Outside Caleb’s big, white truck Drew hands Fiona to Caleb who holds her weight effortlessly in his arms. Caleb glances at me with a frown, obviously as confused as I am.
Drew’s hands shake and he stuffs them underneath his armpits to stop it. “I gotta go.”
I flinch. Did I hear that correctly? He has to go? Where the fuck does he have to be at this time of night? When Fiona is flirting with death on his watch?
“Are you kidding me?” I snap, clenching my fists.
“I can’t…I’m not…” He runs a hand over his dehydrated lips. “They’ll question me and I’m fucked up.”
“You’re the only one who knows what she’s taken.”
Drew turns his back on us, clenching his hair in his fists. He tilts his head up to the sky, wasting precious seconds that could save Fiona’s life.
“Cassia, please.” He begs, his voice tight. “I’m going to be a lawyer…”
“Oh, well, isn’t that so fucking great for you.”
Drew apologizes over and over, but it doesn’t mean shit. He still turns his back on us and trudges down the street, walking against traffic.
What a pussy.
I keep my hand on the side of Fiona’s face as Caleb carries her towards the door. Nurses explode out before we make it and rip Fiona from Caleb’s arms. My heart wrenches in my chest and I barely mutter the word overdose before they’re shouting orders about beds and rooms, drugs and doctors. Sobbing, I cover my mouth. I’m so, so, sorry.
“What’d she take?” A woman demands as four nurses carry Fiona inside.
“We don’t know.” Caleb tells her. “We found her like that.”
The mature aged nurse pulls a small notepad from her chest pocket and quickly jots down a note or two. I step closer to read what it says, but she slaps it shut and slips it back into her pocket.
“Don’t go anywhere.” A woman orders as four nurses carry Fiona inside. “We’re going to do our best to stabilize her and then we’re going to need some answers.”
I nod and she storms away, disappearing into the hospital. Caleb slips in front of me, gripping my shoulders in his hands. “I hate to say it, Cass, but Drew is right.”
I wince, shrugging away from his hands. “You’re not serious?”
“They’re going to ask questions. We have to think about the consequences. She took the drugs, not us.”
He reaches out again and I swat him away. “I’m not letting her wake up alone in a damn emergency room. She needs somebody here when she wakes up.”
Caleb shrugs. “So they’ll call her family.”
How can he be so indifferent about this? He wouldn’t stay for Drew if he was hospitalized? Would he stay for me if I was where Fiona is right now? My parents are going to skin me alive, but I have no fear of that. I’d take any punishment they dish out, over and over, for Fiona—and for him too.
I shake my head. Un-fucking-believable. Exhaling, Caleb reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell. It’s ringing. Again. For the first time since leaving his house, I catch the name on the screen.
Dad.
Father Andrews. Shit.
Caleb glances at me, his question as loud as day. I nod. He should probably answer it. He hits the green button and lifts the phone to his ear. “Hello?”
I hold my breath, waiting for the slightest hint on Caleb’s face to tell me what the nature of the call is. His lips purse and my stomach clenches.
“Yes.”
I slip my thumb into my mouth and chew the nail.
“I don’t know what you want me to say…I get it. All right.”
His eyebrows pull in, his eyes thinning into a scowl.
“Screw Marcus. I’ll drop her home.”
I suck air into my lungs. My parents know…I turn away from Caleb. I think I’m going to be sick.
“There’s no need—Dad?” Caleb growls. “Fuck!”
It’s safe to assume the jig is up. Our affair exposed.
In one night.
This isn’t how I wanted my parents to find out. I wanted to tell them—to see their faces when Caleb’s name fell from my lips. I wanted the chance to explain to them that I’m in love and that it doesn’t matter what they think. Now they’ll hold it against me forever, acting like they busted me.
Hanging up and stuffing the phone into his pocket, Caleb rubs the back of his neck. “He spoke to Drew…he told my father where we are.”
I turn to face him. “And my dad?”
“He’s on his way.”
My heart stutters. “What do we do?”
“We keep Fiona company and we deal with the rest as it comes.”
Caleb holds out his hand and I glance at it briefly. Now he wants to wait with Fiona? A second ago he wanted to ditch her and save himself.
“I thought you didn’t want to stay?”
“I changed my mind. If it’s what you want then it’s what I want too.”
My heart soars and I slip my hand into his. I step closer, wanting to be in his bubble, wanting to be as close to his comfort as I can get. We were the only good outcome of tonight.
Us.
Caleb and me.
“This isn’t the direction I imagined tonight going.” I tell him as he leads me closer to the hospital doors.
He peers sideways at me, his hand tightening around mine. “Does it change anything between us?”
That’s a no-brainer. I shake my head. “Not for me. You?”
His lips twitch in relief at the corners. “No.”
The hospital doors open for us, exposing the packed emergency room. We walk in, cringing at the smell of blood, booze, and cigarette. I wrinkle my nose. It smells more like a bar than a hospital…which is weird for a Tuesday night. We don’t get a seat because they’re all filled. Instead, we sit against a wall. I make sure to keep my dress tucked under my ass and my legs closed considering I didn’t exactly have time to put my underwear back on. Ten minutes stretch into twenty which stretch into thirty. We hear nothing from the nursing staff and my father is nowhere to be seen. Forty minutes in, I can’t take it anymore and I’m stressed and tired. I can’t stop the sobs that bubble up my throat and I cry against Caleb’s firm shoulder.
Classy.
Caleb shushes me, resting a comforting palm against my head. He tells me everything is going to be okay, but is it? What if Fiona doesn’t make it? What if my father flips his shit, stuffs me into the trunk of his car and drives me to the other side of the country? Better yet, what if he drives me off a damn cliff?
Shushing me some more, Caleb reaches into his pocket and pulls out his rosary. It’s the very same rosary I saw him stroking that sunny Sunday morning a few weeks ago.
“My mother gave this to me the night she died. You look like you could use it.”
I hold out my hand and he drops it into my palm. It’s smooth, each bead crafted to perfection. I analyze the rosary and it sparks questions I’ve quelled since the night I asked about his sister and he told me his mother committed suicide. How could she do that? A little boy who was grieving the loss of his sister had to say goodbye to his mother too? I don’t understand how she could…I inhale, reserving my judgement. A woman had lost her only daughter. God knows what was racing through her head when she decided to take her own life.
“This was your mother’s?” I ask, sniffling.
He nods.
“And she died the same day—”
“The same day my sister was abducted?” He looks away from me, his green eyes darkening. “Yeah.”
I roll the small beads between my fingers and watch as nurses race about and sick people come and go. I feel better already. Caleb turns his head and our eyes lock. My heart races in my chest as his intense gaze flickers between frustration and sadness.
“Penelope and Mom, it’s…it’s not a story a lot of people know, but if it takes your mind of Fiona and your parents…I’ll tell you.”
He clenches his jaw, his green stare darting over my face.
“You’d tell me what happened?”
“I love you.” He murmurs. “That means I gotta start letting you in, right?”
My heart swells in my chest and fresh tears pool in my eyes. To be trusted with someone’s soul is the most amazing feeling. Knowing they trust you to keep it safe is a privilege you can’t trade for. It’s a privilege money can’t buy.
*Caleb*
I tell her everything…
About Penelope.
About Mom.
I confess every fucked up little tale I’ve stored in my pathetic brain since the day they happened. Explaining what happened to Penelope was hard…but describing Mom…telling someone else how I found her was almost impossible. I’ve replayed the story for myself over and over, but I’ve never said it aloud. I’ve never heard my voice explain every thought and feeling I had that night.
“I love you.” She whispered, kissing me on the cheek.
A silent tear rolled off her lip and onto my face. She’d been crying for two days and I didn’t know how to fix it. I tried drawing her a picture and cuddling her whenever I got the chance, but it only seemed to make it worse. I was thankful for the darkness. I couldn’t see her cry when it was dark. I hated seeing her cry.
“I love you too.” I muttered, pulling my Ninja Turtles blanket up to my chin.
I expected her to walk out like she’d done the previous nights. She’d get up, walk to her room, and close the door behind her, but not tonight.
“I have something for you.” Mom sniffled, fishing something out of the pocket of her floral high waisted skirt. “Hold out your hand.”
Without hesitation, I sat up and held out my hand. She cupped the back of my hand in her gentle palm and placed a thread of small beads in the middle of my hand. I closed my fist around the beads, loosening my grip when the firm end of a cross digs into my palm.
A smile stretched across my lips. The first smile I’d smiled in days. My heavy heart lightened and fluttered in my chest. Her rosary. I’ve wanted to touch it for ages.
“It’s yours. You can have it.”
I frowned. “For me?”
“For you.” She replied, her voice strangled by a sob.
“But I’m not allowed them.”
“I need you to keep it safe. I can’t think of a better person to keep it safe than you. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded, clenching the beads in my hand. “Thank you.”
Mom wrapped her arms around my shoulders and squeezed me. The sweet smell of lemons and ginger filled my nose and I inhaled it into my lungs. She was warm and safe. No one was going to jump out of a van and take me while she was here.
“I love you. You know that, don’t you?”
Mom started crying again. Her chest vibrating against mine.
“I know.”
Tears prickled at my eyes. Why was she crying? Did she miss her rosary already?
“I love you so, so, so much.” She squeezed me. “Don’t ever forget that, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
She planted a lingering kiss on my forehead before pushing herself to her feet. She left my room and I rested against my pillow, clenching her rosary to my chest. It was smooth and warm, filled with a special kind of power that she once said would guide me every day.
I fell asleep not long after that.
I didn’t know how long I was asleep for before I was awoken by a slamming drawer in the kitchen. I blinked away the sleep in my eyes and sat up, the rosary still tucked neatly into my palm. I waited, listening to the sounds of sobs as they filtered up the hallway and into my room.
Something was off. Now that I think about it, I was never allowed to touch her precious rosary. I was barely allowed to look at it and now she was giving it to me? To have as my own? She got it when she was in the Vatican City and it was the most precious thing she owned.
Was she crying because she missed it? I didn’t want her crying because she gave her rosary to me. If she loved them so much, she should have them.
I kicked off the blankets and crept out of bed. The soles of my feet touched the cool varnished floor as I plodded down the hall and turned left into the kitchen.
I froze as red liquid seeped along the white tiles. It kind of looked like beet juice…only it was thicker…and darker…and it poured from Mom’s sagging body.
I took one look at her arms and realized it was blood. It was so much blood.
My lungs collapsed and my lower lip trembled as her stare settled on me. Her eyebrows pulled in as she watched me.
“Mom?” My voiced cracked and splintered my heart.
Her glazed glare was distant, like she was looking both at me and through me at the same time. I stepped closer and held out the pretty, mahogany rosary.
“Here.” I told her as a sob bubbled to the surface. “It’s okay. You can have them.”
She didn’t move. Blood was everywhere. There was so much that I slipped in it and crashed to the floor. It hurt. It hurt my tailbone and my elbows, but it didn’t matter. Tears poured from my eyes, but I still spoke to her. God would save her if she was holding the rosary. He’d have to.
“Mom…you can have the rosary. I know how much you love it.”
Blood seeped into my clothing. It was warm and sticky, and it crawled over my skin like a million tiny spiders. I shuddered, but slid closer to her anyway. She needed help, she needed her rosary. Her skin paled, but her eyes remained open.
I pushed the rosary into her hand and forced it shut.
“You can have it.” I cried. “It’s okay. They’re yours. I won’t take them again. You can have it.”
I swiped at my face, painting her blood over my cheek.
“Please, Mom.” I dropped my head against her shoulder, but it didn’t feel like it usually did. It wasn’t comforting. It didn’t fill me with warmth. The scent of lemon and ginger was gone, replaced by the coppery smell of blood.
“I’m sorry.”
I knew what it was about. She hated me because I let Penelope get taken by the man in the van. She wanted to be with Penelope, not with me.
Because I was weak.
Because I didn’t put up a fight.
I saw her face when she found me sitting by myself. The shock. The horror. The hatred.
She cuddled me and kissed me. She told me it was okay, that it wasn’t my fault.
And then she killed herself…because she couldn’t bear the sight of me.