Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“Seems like the light is finally on in that thick skull of yours,” Oz said as the cuffs fell away from my wrists.
I stared at them, then back at him. “I love her.”
He nodded. “Yep. And you may have fucked her up emotionally for life. You’ve got a lot to fix. I wish you luck. You’re gonna need it. Just don’t kill Calvin. It’ll upset Mom, and whatever feelings Elsie has for you will die with him. Remember that when you go batshit. Because she’s living in his apartment.”
I’d already figured that out. She had nowhere else to go. And I wouldn’t kill Calvin. I needed him if I had any chance of getting her back, and I’d fucking die before I lived without her.
Forty-Eight
Elsie
Two Weeks Later
If it were possible for me to feel any emotion through the numbness that had settled around me, it would be hate. Loathing, to be exact. Loathing for this city. Everything about Los Angeles annoyed me.
Calvin had tried to make me like it, but I didn’t like anything. I had no desire or want to care. My days were spent walking mostly. It got me away from his constant worrying and the four walls of his apartment. Which I would also hate if I could. But it was too much to feel. I preferred the numbing indifference.
When I closed my eyes at night, the nightmares returned. This time more graphic and painful. Calvin always woke me up and tried to comfort me, but I couldn’t stand the touch of anyone. I would cringe and pull away. He had tried to get me to see a therapist on Monday, but I refused. I couldn’t tell this to anyone. They’d never understand, and I might possibly be admitted because of it.
What sane person would grieve over the loss of a man who had almost killed her best friend in front of her? None. Or refused to sleep in anything but the oversized sweatsuit that no longer smelled of him, but it was all I had of him. None. That was the issue. I was a wack. Clearly unstable. I missed Forge so bad that it was physically painful. And how was that okay? It wasn’t. I should hate him. But instead, all I saw was the way he’d looked at me before I left. And my arms ached to go comfort him. Assure him I was staying.
Sure, I needed help, but seeking it would get me put in a padded room, so I wasn’t doing that. I preferred walking. Eventually, I would have to find a life. Do something other than sleep, eat, and walk, but I didn’t have it in me just yet to do more than that. I was surviving.
Taking the stairs to Calvin’s apartment, my legs felt like heavy lead. I had no idea how many miles I’d walked, and it didn’t matter. But returning to this place, facing another evening of him begging me to eat and trying to make me smile, was exhausting. I wanted to be left alone. But seeing as he’d almost died because of me, I felt guilt when I pushed him away.
I was trying to be better. At least act like I wasn’t drowning in an abyss so that he wouldn’t worry about me.
When I reached his door, it swung open, startling me enough that I stepped back.
Calvin was smiling brightly, which made my head hurt. That meant he was about to annoy me with something. I was too tired mentally and physically for this.
“We are going out for dinner,” he told me, closing the door behind him.
Oh, no, I was not.
I shook my head. “I don’t—”
“We have to. Rog has a date coming, and he called dibs on an empty apartment,” Calvin said, taking my arm and turning me around. “There is a pub I go to that has live music. You’ll like it.”
“I’m not dressed to go out,” I argued. I was probably stinky from sweat.
“You are fine. Besides”—he nodded toward the door—“we aren’t welcome in there. Let’s go.”
Awesome. My headache was a throb now.
I let him guide me back down the stairs while he prattled on about things, but I zoned out on him. He was too chipper. I couldn’t listen to that. I’d learned to cope by tuning out the world around me.
“It’s a block away. We will walk. You probably passed it on your way back from wherever you went,” he said, still sounding entirely too optimistic.
If I had it in me to care, I’d be concerned about my appearance, but nothing mattered. Getting through this meal was my only concern.
“They’ve got the best cheeseburgers and peanut butter and jelly shakes,” I heard him say.
I thought I nodded. I wasn’t sure. We continued on our way, and he said something about local brew on tap and onion rings. If he would take a breath and shut up, that would be nice.