47
Slater
“What the hell do you mean, you think she’s in her room,” I ask, towering over Paisley, who’s visibility upset. But I’m looking for a confrontation because I’m so pissed, so I could give two shits. “How could you guys let her go? Didn’t you follow her?” I rub the back of my neck, frustrated. I’m wasting time here, I’m better off to go break her fucking door in and see for myself if she’s in there, safe. After leaving Tommy, I’d rushed around to each of the girls’ rooms, and finally found them all huddling in Rain’s suite, upset and trying to figure out how to best help Ali.
“We were in shock, it all happened so fast,” Paisley says, using a Kleenex to wipe her eyes. “You think we willingly let her go after that? She’s our friend, Slater, we wouldn’t ever do that to her. We kept trying, calling and knocking on her door…it’s not like we just gave up.” Paisley’s tone is more pissed than upset now, and I can’t blame her. I’m being an asshole.
“Slate, man. Take it easy. You need to back off a bit. This isn’t their fault,” Rain says, shoving my chest and forcing me to withdraw like I should. He’s right. This isn’t their fault. It’s mine. I should have looked at the list. Fucking Penny Donaldson.
“I know, you’re right,” I say. “I’m so fucking angry right now, I have half a mind to hunt that reporter bitch down myself. I’m sorry, Pais, I was out of line. Ali won’t answer my calls or texts, and I couldn’t find any of you guys. I was losing it after Tommy filled me in,” I tell them truthfully, running my hands down my face. Seeing them all upset and worried, and me coming in here guns blazing, makes me feel like a total dick. “I mean it. I know I’m being an asshole. None of this is your fault.” I place my hand on Paisley’s shoulder and she nods. Looking around, the others nod too, and offer small smiles.
“I know,” says Paisley. “We’re all upset. Question is, what do we do now? Should we call Lucky?”
“I think we better,” Siobhán says, and we all agree. “I know Ali told us she needs space when she gets upset, but this news getting out will be huge for her. He might be what she needs, even if over the phone.”
“Plus, we should let him know that the story about their family might be out there, to give him a heads up. I’ll go call him and fill him in,” Paisley says, moving towards the bedroom for privacy.
“She isn’t answering my calls or texts,” I say, feeling frustrated and defeated. I wave off the beer Rain’s offering me.
“She isn’t responding to us either, Slate,” Roxie pipes up. “She won’t open up. The adjoining door between our rooms is locked. We can’t get in. The front desk denied us entry, said her room is set as ‘do not disturb’, so they wouldn’t open it because the room’s not in our names. The one nice concierge did take us up there, only after we said it was an emergency, but said he couldn’t justify opening the door when we didn’t hear her inside. I’m sorry, we tried. We keep trying.”
Hearing this makes my blood boil. How can they not barge in after being told it’s an emergency? What the fuck constitutes “an emergency”? I make a mental note to ask the manager when I go back down.
“I can’t imagine how she’s feeling right now,” Siobhán says, although it seems it’s more to herself than us. “We had no clue. She’s always said she and her family weren’t close, except her and Lucky. She’d always change the subject. Poor Ali. I feel sick to my stomach. And, knowing her, she’s probably up there thinking we’re mad at her. I’m not mad, I just wish we’d have known so we could have reacted better, faster…” she trails off, taking a sip of water.
“Guys, she wouldn’t do anything stupid, would she? I mean, she’s been doing so good. Surely this wouldn’t set her back? Or would it? Fuck, I wish I knew more about—” Rox cuts herself off, as if just realizing now that Rain and I are here.
“It’s okay. Ali’s told me some, and don’t worry about Rain, he’s not gonna say shit.” I give him a look, and he agrees.
“I never say shit about anything,” Rain says. “Besides, I’d never hurt Ali. She’s our people now.” He shrugs, and I see Rox forgive herself for the slip.
“I’ve wasted enough time.” I stand up. “I’m getting into her room if I have to kick in the door myself. I’ll keep you posted,” I nod, before giving the girls a hug, reassuring them that she’ll be okay, and that I’ll do whatever I can to help her.
I’m at the door when Rain shouts for me to text him if I need backup from our security team.
I wave over my shoulder. Right now, all I need is to see that Ali’s all right. And if she’s not, I hope she’ll at least be willing to let me try and help her.
A feeling I’ve never experienced much before settles over me as I make my way down the hall to the elevators, a feeling that’s sitting in my stomach like a lump: fear.
Fear that I have no clue what I’m walking into.
Fear that I’m about to push too hard and lose what I haven’t had nearly enough of yet.
Fear that I won’t be able to take her pain away.
Fear that I’m in over my head. I’ve got no clue what the fuck I’m doing right now. I’m running on emotion and anger.
Regardless of the fear, I’ve made the easy decision. Alina Cassidy is worth whatever I have to fight to save her. She’s worth too much not to.
*
The first thing my eyes catch is the mess on the bed.
Crumbs.
Wrappers.
Chunks of half-eaten food littered over an unkempt bed and spilled on the floor.
Then my nose catches a whiff of something familiar—puke. Ali’s unspoken words from the plane suddenly click into place, confirming what I’d suspected but was hoping wasn’t true.
How can someone choose to hurt themselves so brutally? I’ve heard of people having eating disorders, but I’ll admit I have no fucking idea about any of it. I’m so far out of my element, it isn’t funny.
Educated on the subject or not, it’s clear…
My girl is hurting.
Ali is fighting a demon.
And she needs me more than I ever knew.
Is she mine? Do I even want this?
Stepping closer to her bathroom door, the first thing I hear is her.
Retching.
Whimpering.
Coughing.
Then retching again.
More coughing, then the sound of puke hitting the toilet, over and over. Chills break out all over my body with each and every moan, grunt, and splash.
What the fuck?
My blood runs cold. When she lets out a loud whimper, it sounds like pain. My flight-or-fight instinct kicks in, my earlier fears returning, because shit just got real. And I don’t have a fucking clue what I’m doing.
Maybe I should just leave, mind my own business, and allow her to do her thing. My mind races, yet my heart and mind know better and my feet stay rooted at the foot of the bed, my head turned toward the bathroom, toward the sounds, and I wait, listening.
Am I ready to be this guy for this girl?
Can I do this?
Do I want to? There are millions of girls, I think, but I half-smile, because this is Ali, and she’s the girl.
My heart rate picks up when there’s another loud heave, and I make a move towards the door. I need to get in there—I have to fix her.
Her phone’s on the floor by her bed, and has been buzzing like crazy this whole time. Picking it up, the name “Lucky” appears over and over on the screen, but I let it be. I toss it on the bed, knowing this isn’t the time, but hoping Paisley’s updated him.
“You need to leave,” I scowl, turning towards the hotel security guard who, I realize, is still here. He’s stepping closer to the bathroom, hearing Ali vomiting again. I’d managed to persuade this guy to let me in her room with the promise of front row tickets and backstage passes to our next show, but now it’s time for him to go.
“You sure, sir? Should I call an ambulance? Your friend sounds quite ill.”
“I said to go.”
“Sir, I thi—”
“I don’t give a shit what you think, I said leave. Get the fuck out!” I bark, louder than I intend, but having caught another gagging sound coming from the bathroom, I need to get the fuck in there. “Now!”
“Call the front desk if there’s anything you need, sir.” With that, Hunter, I think his name was, leaves, the door closing with a solid click behind him.
“Alina!” I pound on the washroom door. “Open the goddamn door,” I shout, unable to help it. My adrenaline is spiked high, and I’m shaking so bad I think I might pass out.
Worry, anger, fear, revulsion, and a million questions swirl alongside the array of emotions I feel ripping through me on the inside, yet through it all, I have an epiphany: I’m all in with her. I’ll do anything and everything I can to help make her okay.
“Alina. Open the door! Now,” I repeat again, this time louder and more determined. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re gonna piss me off.”
I grip the doorframe, waiting, wondering…
How can someone so beautiful on the outside be so catastrophic within?