Chapter 9. He had to do something.

He had to do something.

Something.

Something.

He couldn’t think of it. But it was there. He’d posted a note somewhere about something.

Something he couldn’t remember. But it was important. It’d nagged him for the past week. Or had it? What day was it? What time? How long had it been since he snapped out of the depression and the electrical storm in his brain had fired up again?

He loved it.

He hated it.

Adonis tried to think of the day. Wednesday? No Thursday. Or was it Friday?

He hadn’t gone to class.

Exam.

He needed to take an exam.

But his fingers…

They were itching, burning, sparking at the tips, the continual rush of power coursing through his bloodstream granting him the feeling of invincibility. It had no origin. No beginning. No end. Only the here. The now. He could feel the recurrent cycle of energy careening from his brain to his arms and legs, down to the balls of his feet, forcing them into action.

Adonis paced his room.

Back and forth.

Forth and back.

Where were his ships? Did he finish them? Yes he had last time. Should he start another one?

No.

Yes.

Maybe.

With shaking hands, he patted himself down for his pack of cigarettes. He lit one. The nicotine penetrated the furious spinning of electrons and neurons, all colliding and combusting and allowing no room for rest.

But rest was the furthest thing from his mind.

He couldn’t rest with ideas and thoughts exploding so fast and so intense that they halted any and all functionality. He could hear them zipping through his head faster than the speed of light, cracking in red and blue jagged streaks along the complex grid of his brain’s motherboard; a dichotomy of logic and the illogical, like two dueling factions caught in a zero-sum game, one unable to operate without crippling the other.

If only he could carry out all of those ideas at one time. Earlier he had bumped out page after page of his Business Admin paper while simultaneously working on another of his projects. It worked for a time but things would go even faster if he could split himself in two. To think of the amount of things he’d be able to accomplish sent his heart rate skyrocketing.

He felt like he was having a heart attack. Adonis tried to calm himself but he was too up, too high, soaring above everything.

Above the earth.

Beyond the cosmos.

He was invincible. A god amongst peons. Why he didn’t have to listen to them. Didn’t they know who he was? He could have anything he desired.

He could buy this fucking continent if he wanted. Make them all his slaves, their only purpose to serve him.

He clenched his skull and squeezed, hoping it’d relieve the pressure. But it continued to build like a turbine ready the blow.

When would it stop? Today? Tomorrow? It would have to soon. It was unavoidable. And then he would capsize and sink, dragged down to the black, suffocating pits of despair.

The thought induced a backlash of anxiety so daunting it crushed his chest.

He reached for the bottle of bourbon. It was empty. When’d that happened? Just now? An hour ago? A day?

He couldn’t remember.

The cigarette went quickly (when had he lit it?) and he found himself reaching for another.

Just one more. The first ended too soon.

Or had it been his second?

Third?

Ok, only one more.

Adonis lit another, his gaze catching on the bottle of Xanax sitting on his nightstand.

When had he taken those? This afternoon? Yesterday?

Yes.

It had to have been yesterday or he would’ve felt the medication’s effects by now. He tore off the lid and watched as miniscule pills tumbled into his palm. They were so fucking small. What was the limit?

He didn’t care.

He just wanted it to stop so he could breathe.

So he could figure out what to do next.

Adonis tossed all of them back at once.

________________

Jade glared half-heartedly as her roommate capered from the bathroom. “If I didn’t feel so happy for you, I’d punch you in the face.”

“I heart you too." Tess continued humming to herself as she towel dried her hair.

Jade lifted her eyes toward the ceiling. "I've created a monster."

Tess grinned hard. She couldn’t help it. She was floating on cloud nine, immersed in her own bubble of happiness. She couldn’t even be jealous of Jade, who got to a leave a whole two days before Thanksgiving due to generous professors.

Maybe she should’ve taken Art 101…

But what was an extra couple of days compared with having Cameron as her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend.

Three weeks later and it still felt like she’d wake from a dream at any moment. After he had walked her home Halloween night/morning, he’d bestowed her with a thoroughly toe-curling kiss before departing. She’d run up to her room, jumped into bed, screamed into her pillow, and flailed like a fish out of water.

That was all before she found Jade and her hook-up sleepily glaring at her one bed over.

The transition had been smoother than she’d imagined. They hadn’t been able to hide the news for long. As expected, everyone had congratulated and ribbed on them for waiting so long. But Tess and Cameron had been too caught up in each other to really pay them much mind.

There was only one loose end that kept her a stone’s throw away from absolute bliss. Every time she visited the house, she girded herself—waiting for everything to explode in her face. Too much of a coward to come out and say it, Tess waited for Adonis to break the news. A part of her yearned for the truth to set her free.

But Adonis never outed her. In fact, Tess had seen neither hide nor hair of him since Halloween. According to Cameron, he spent most of his time at his friends’ place or holed up in his room.

As long as he didn’t bother her, Tess didn’t care if he rotted up there. She was beginning to feel like he’d just been blowing steam up her ass with his so-called ultimatum. Perhaps what it all boiled down to was that neither of them wanted to see Cameron hurt. They owed him too great a debt.

In any case, she had more important things to consider, like plotting out their first date in the city. No doubt Cameron would want to whisk her off to some swanky, upscale restaurant where she’d be unable to pronounce half the items on the menu.

Tess was still undecided on where she would take him. She doubted he’d want to visit some of her old underground haunts. Just the thought of Cameron braving a metal show pitched her into a fit of giggles.

Other than that, only one thing bothered her about the progression of her and Cam’s relationship.

“Is it weird we haven’t moved beyond second base?”

“Tess, it’s been like three weeks. He probably wants to take it slow,” she said, zipping the last of her suitcases.

"Any slower and I'd feel like I'm going steady in middle school."

"Yeah, it's so awful when a guy wants to respect you and your body by not rushing into a physical relationship."

"God, you make me sound like a horrible person."

"Not horrible, just horny. Look sweetie, I know nowadays we’re used to doing things backwards by jumping in the sack first and maybe dating later, but that’s usually how the long-termers work. Or supposed to anyway.”

Tess launched a pillow at her. “What time are your brothers picking you up?”

“They hit the Pennsylvanian border like an hour ago, so maybe in thirty? They’ll be broken hearted when they hear you finally settled down,” she said wryly.

She’d met the Wolfe family on a number of occasions ranging from Family Day weekends to visits during summer break. Jade’s devilishly handsome older brothers were notorious flirts and made no bones about the fact they wanted her.

“They’ll live.” She buttoned her jeans and pulled on a shirt. “Besides, Cameron is all the man I need.”

“What about your mystery lover?”

Her shoulders tensed. “What about him?”

“You never told me who he is.”

“Because he’s not important.”

“If you really meant that you wouldn’t be fighting so hard to keep him a secret.”

Tess shoved into her black flats. But the flimsy shoes softened the aggressive gesture. “Jade, save the psychobabble and drop it, will you?”

The startled hurt that flickered across her expressions made Tess feel lower than dirt. “I’m sorry, J. I just don’t want to get into it.”

“Little late for that,” she muttered and slid her laptop into its embroidered sleeve.

Tess sighed. “I’m going to check mail and grab something to eat.”

“You’d better be back before we leave. I don’t want to hear my brothers bitching about how they didn’t get to see my ‘hot roommate’ all the way back home.”

And just like that, order restored itself.

“I’ll do my best,” Tess solemnly vowed and gathered her messenger bag. She checked her cell as she left out. Her mouth pulled into a grimace at the missed call from home.

Usually she made it a priority to call once every other week, but Tess had been so caught up in her personal drama that she’d neglected to for almost a month.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Tess redialed her mother. Maia answered on the second ring. “Tess?”

“Hello mother.”

“Don’t sound so eager to talk to me,” the older woman said dryly.

All she could reply with was a lame, “Sorry.”

Dead air stretched over the line. “How are your classes coming along?”

“Good.”

“When do you plan on coming home? Ray said he wouldn’t mind coming down and picking you up-”

“That’s fine. I’ll find a ride.” Tess would rather take the bus than sit in an enclosed space with her stepfather for an hour.

“I’ll let you sleep on it.”

“I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you later.” She hit end before her mother could respond and slid the phone in her back pocket.

Now there was something she wasn’t looking forward to: family time.

Gag me.

After checking her mailbox and purchasing a wrap, she left through the student center’s back exit. She wanted to catch Riley before he left. His last exam had been yesterday, the lucky bastard.

Cameron was probably still stuck in his Constitutional Law exam. She’d looked over his study guide last night. After one minute, the legal jargon began swimming across the page like alphabet soup. Apparently pre-law was not written in the stars for her, not that she was terribly upset.

Tess faltered when she spotted the black Ferrari parked across the street.

Adonis.

So he was alive. And home for once.

Tess hesitated in front of the porch.

She could always just shoot Riley a text. And it wasn’t like his place in Jersey wasn’t a hop, skip, and a path away.

She was about to turn on her heel when the smell drifted past the screen door.

Something was burning.

Tess rushed inside and tracked the odor to the hazy kitchen. Tendrils of black smoke curled above an empty saucepan on the stove, the burner on. Using a dishtowel, she tossed it in the sink and ran the cold tap until water flowed over the rim.

She refused to believe anyone could be this idiotic. Tess switched off the stove and called out, “Riley!”

No response.

“Anyone home?”

More silence.

Irritation a bug under her skin, she climbed the stairs and checked the second floor. Both Cameron and Riley’s rooms were empty.

That only left one stone unturned.

She glanced to the attic stairs. If he was trying to kill himself, why did he have to take the entire house down with him?

Jaw set, she stalked her way up the last set of steps. The door hung ajar. “Adonis?” She pushed it open.

The room was pitch black and reeked of something faintly metallic. Her hands groped blindly along the wall for the light switch. Tess barely caught herself from slipping on something wet.

Someone had obviously forgotten that the college didn’t employ housekeepers.

Unearthing her phone, she hit the power button. Light speared through the darkness and glanced off a pool of shiny, red paint under her flats.

No, not paint.

Blood.

Icy terror pooled in her gut. She panned the phone’s light to the motionless body not a foot away.

Oh my God.

_____________

Tess sat braced on the edge of the worn sofa. Vinyl perspired beneath her clammy death grip. She couldn’t remember how long she’d been sitting here. Time was lost on her. Jade had texted and called her a thousand times, probably wondering where she’d disappeared. But she couldn’t be bothered right now.

Laughter from a studio audience droned from a television in the corner. Save for an elderly man snoring softly across from her, she had only her thoughts for company.

The nurses hadn’t allowed her access to the ER when they unloaded Adonis and wheeled him inside. Neither had they brought her word of his condition since then.

Turmoil raged through her: fear for his wellbeing, anger at being placed in this position, and hope that she’d gotten to him in time. For years she’d cavalierly joked about him overdosing and tossed around the idea of wanting him dead. But reality had an ugly way of putting things into perspective. As badly as Adonis treated her, as much as she hated him, she didn’t actually want him to die.

The memory of finding his blood-covered face and pale, unmoving form replayed.

The rasping of his labored breaths had spurred her into action. Tess had fallen hard to her knees as she dialed 911. While waiting for the paramedics, the operator had instructed her to keep him conscious by talking to him and watching his breathing; that if he stopped she would have to resuscitate him.

Thankfully it never came to that.

Within minutes the ambulance arrived. The paramedics worked swiftly and efficiently. When asked if she would be riding along, she hadn’t thought twice about jumping aboard.

The ER’s doors swooshed open.

A middle-aged nurse clad in salmon-colored scrubs emerged. The name on her printed on her ID tag read Chastity. Nurse by day, stripper by night? “Are you the young lady that accompanied the overdose patient?”

She shook her head free of the random thought. “Yes.”

“If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to your boyfriend.”

Too drained to correct her, Tess stood. “Is he going to be ok?”

Chastity offered a comforting smile as she led them down the corridor. “He’ll be fine. He regained consciousness not too long ago and we were able to administer treatment. We'll keep him for a day or two for observation before discharging him.”

“My friend didn’t do it on purpose,” Tess said, not entirely sure why she defended him. “He’s too much of an egomaniac.”

The cragged parentheses bracketing the older woman’s mouth deepened as her mouth thinned. “We all hope for the best. But overdose cases are the most frustrating. We don’t have the time or resources to sit down with the patient and root out the cause of the problem. We can only hope they want better for themselves and break the cycle.”

“He will. He wants to get better.” Another bold-faced lie.

The tired lines of her face lifted by degrees. “It’s loved ones like you that make all the difference. No matter how difficult it gets, don’t ever give up on him, hon.” Chastity drew back a curtain to a small space that didn’t quite qualify as a room. “Here we are.”

She worked hard to keep her jaw from slackening as the nurse moved aside.

He looked like hell.

Panting heavily, his normally olive features were washed out. Hollow-eyed, sweat darkened the neckline of his paper-thin hospital gown. Unkempt, damp hair half-plastered, half-curled to his face. Add that to several days’ worth of unshaven facial scruff, his appearance would’ve bordered on feral had it not been for utter vacancy of his expression. Bloodstained gauze patched his right temple. An IV had been inserted into his right forearm and a plastic bin sat in his lap.

“Mr. Benoit, feeling any better?” Chastity asked.

Instead of snipping back with his usual sarcasm, Adonis said nothing. In fact, he’d yet to acknowledge either of their presence.

“A counselor from our assessment team will be stopping by shortly with a few questions.” She aimed a knowing look at Tess. “I’ll be down the hall if you need anything.”

At a loss, Tess shifted her weight as the nurse left them alone.

He was a husk of his former self and it unnerved her. Knocked from the orbit of planet ego, the incident had flattened his usual aggression and contempt. That alone was cause enough to make her uncomfortable. He seemed like a different person.

Fallible.

Imperfect.

Human.

As such, Tess didn’t know how to interact with him. Yes, maybe she’d saved his life, but that didn’t make them insta-buddies. So where did that leave them?

The sound of intense, painful retching made the meager contents of her stomach curdle. When he finished, Adonis wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Exhaustion wreathed the skin beneath his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.” His voice sounded like sandpaper dragging over gravel.

“Look at you like what?”

Fatigue-smudged eyelids rose to half-mast. “I don’t need your pity.”

“That look wasn’t pity, but me wondering how I was going to get back to campus.”

The seconds ticked by without a response from him. “How did you get the gash on your head?” she asked for lack of anything better to say.

“I fell.”

Tess played with the hem of her shirt. “Do you need me to bring you a change of clothes or something?”

He stared blankly at the lower portion of her body.

She followed his gaze down. Pink smeared her hands. Even her jeans hadn’t escaped unscathed. The material was stiff with dried blood from where she’d knelt beside him. She’d been so worried about him she hadn’t realized the state of her appearance.

The edges of her vision whitened. Short of breath, Tess clung to the back of a plastic chair for support.

“Why?” She barely heard him over the ringing in her ears.

“Why what?”

“Why did you bring me here?” It wasn’t as much gratefulness as it was accusation.

Anger sluiced past numbing shock. “Is this your way of saying thank you for saving your life? Because you need to work on your delivery.”

He closed his eyes. “You didn’t save shit. I wasn’t dying.”

“So says the guy who not two hours earlier was passed out on his floor covered in blood.” She breathed in through her nose as the frightening image resurfaced. “I’m sorry for caring.”

“Don’t pretend you give two shits about me.”

“You’re right. I don’t. But I did what I thought was right. Next time I’ll just leave you there. Maybe Cam will take pity on you.” Crap. How could she have forgotten about him? “Speaking of which.” Tess drew her phone.

Panic scrubbed his indifference. “Don’t!”

“I’m sure he’s seen you in worse condition.”

“I’ll forget the deal,” he blurted.

“What?”

“Do whatever you want. Be with him,” he gritted with obvious pain. “Just don’t say anything about this.”

In spite of the trade off, the idea of harboring more secrets made her doubly uncomfortable. Why did she feel as if she was getting the short end of the stick? “What are you so worried about? Cameron’s never been one to judge you before.”

“Because it’s none of his fucking business. Or yours for—” His features became chalkier.

Tess made a face as he bent over the bucket and hurled. The squelching fluid slopped perilously close to the bin’s lip. “I’ll get you another one.”

On her way to the nurse’s station, she made a pit stop. Locking the bathroom door behind her, Tess braced herself against the sink. What was her problem? She wasn’t the one lying in a bed dressed in a napkin and puking her guts out. So why did she feel so cold and weak?

Tess dared to glance at her reflection. She looked tired, haunted. Dark circles bagged her eyes. Her colorless complexion gave her hair a sanguine tint.

Bile seesawed within her.

To think she wanted to sow the seeds of her future within the medical community. An irrational giggle tickled the back of her throat.

Tess soaped her hands and began to scrub vigorously. Sadly, her jeans were a lost cause. She cleaned up to the best of her abilities and retrieved another vomit pail from Chastity.

She reached for the curtain partitioning Adonis’s enclosure when a masculine voice drew her up short. “—Dr. Monroe. I have a few questions for you.”

She wavered. This was wrong and probably illegal on so many counts it wasn’t even funny.

The doctor spoke again. “How did we end up here today?”

“The same way all your overdose patients do. An overdose.”

“Funny,” the doctor remarked blandly. “What medication did you take?”

“Xanax.”

“Is that all?” Skepticism riddled his tone.

“I may have chased it with a bottle of Jim Beam.”

“How many alcoholic drinks to you consume a day?”

“That’s a good question.”

“Do you have a history of depression or suicidal thoughts?” the doctor droned on by rote.

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Adonis snipped with a fraction of his usual snarl. “It was an accident. You try going a week without sleep.”

“Do you have a reoccurring problem with insomnia?”

“Only when I’m adderolling,” Sarcasm imbued the confession.

“So you attend the college then? And I’m assuming you take the medication because it’s test time and not because you were prescribed it to treat ADHD.”

“Sure, why not.”

“Mr. Benoit, I assure you that there are better ways to prepare for exams than overstimulating your body.”

“Thanks, doc. I’ll take those pamphlets to go.”

“Can you describe your history of drug abuse?”

“There aren’t enough hours in the day.”

The sound of a pen scrawling across paper filled the gap between questions. “Does your family have a history of substance or drug abuse?” Dr. Monroe continued nonplussed.

“Depends on your definition of abuse.”

“Mental illnesses?”

Her breath caught when he didn’t respond.

“Have you been prescribed any medication within the last six months?”

“Valproate,” Adonis volunteered tightly.

“And what was it prescribed for?”

The ensuing silence felt longer and icier than the rest.

“When was the last time you took your meds?”

“Never.”

“Mr. Benoit, you do understand the repercussions of forgoing medication prescribed to you?”

Adonis emitted a ragged laugh. “Repercussions? Like what? Depression? Bipolar disorder? Don’t worry, doc, my family’s been there done that, and are mostly dead. I’m just trying to have a little fun before I strike out.”

The revelation almost sent her stumbling into a crash cart.

“Which is why its better to address these things sooner rather than later.” This time there was no hurried impatience or droll cynicism in his tone, merely concern.

“Because of all the good it did for my family.” Weariness threaded the admission. “Just tell me what I have to do to get out here.”

“One of the nurses will be in shortly to move you to a room in the psychiatric unit. We’ll keep you for a few days for observation and then you’ll be free to go. During that time, I’d highly advise you to consider your future. We’d be more than happy to give you a referral to a mental health clinic.”

“I don’t need a shrink.”

“Just give it some thought.”

Tess ducked down as the doctor swished past.

Like a bucket of water thrown against a wet painting, her emotions ran in indistinguishable rivulets and converged in a delta of chaos. Confusion dominated above all.

He was bipolar? How had she not known?

Not that they were exactly on friendly terms, but secrets never stayed secrets for long within their mutual circles.

Which meant he’d been keeping this to himself for years.

Her thoughts sprung back through time.

Talking back to teachers, never shutting up in class, always trying to entertain an audience. No wonder they never figured it out. She, like everyone else, merely attributed his highs and lows to drug use.

They’d definitely been an adequate cover for his behavior.

If she looked past all of the swaggering arrogance, his longstanding affair with drugs, the persecution and raging against his offenders, what was she left with?

A guy who didn’t want to get better?

Someone terrified of being less than perfect?

Gathering herself, she allowed a minute elapse before entering. “Here, I got you a clean bucket.”

“Aren’t you helpful.”

Empathy diluted the effects of his rancor. “I do what I can.” Tess thrust the fresh bin at him quickly, unable to look him in the eye. “The nurse said she’d be back in ten minutes to collect your old one. Do you need anything else before I go?”

“No.” Her pulse doubled at the suspicion embedded in the word.

“Cool. I’ll bring you a change of clothes and your things tomorrow. See you.” Tess scuttled away before he could read her guilt.

_____________

He was an idiot.

A fucking idiot.

Because only a fucking idiot would end up in the hospital after an accidental overdose of Xanax.

Adonis tried to recall how many he’d taken, but his mind drew a blank.

His chest burned. Only it had nothing to do with stomach acid and whatever the hell he’d last eaten.

Actually, when was the last time he’d eaten? The past few days had been nothing short of a blur.

It was his fault for railing too much Vyvanse. He’d needed the uppers to drag himself out of a funk. It was part of his usual regimen of bouncing from uppers to downers. Usually he struck a steady balance between the two, but every now and then he screwed up the equation. The Vyvanse had kept pushing him higher and higher until he’d been forced to ground himself.

Despite the ‘diagnosis’ his counselors in rehab tried to tag him with, Adonis knew he was fine. He’d spent years hammering chang and dabbling in H. Withdrawals and irritability were a normal part of the healing process. It had nothing to do with his family’s demented legacy.

He didn’t want to think of them.

He made it a point not to.

But deserted memories stirred from the darkest recesses of his mind, agitating old hurt. The last time he spoke with his grandparents. The last time he saw his brother, Nikolai. The last time he could conjure a memory of his mother without feeling both unadulterated revulsion and a bone deep longing.

Emotion he refused to acknowledge seared the backs of his eyes.

He was completely and utterly alone.

And he hated them for it. Hated them for being weak and giving up.

Adonis gripped the bed’s plastic railing and drove the memories back to their dusty enclave.

And then there was Tess. How the hell had he wound up indebted to her?

He knew there was a possibility she’d overheard his tale of woe. It explained why she couldn’t look him in the eye when she returned.

The idea of her possessing that kind of knowledge made him feel exposed and raw, like a nerve slit open for anyone’s perusal. There was no way in hell she wasn’t going to stage a coup, even after suspending his ultimatum.

It didn’t matter. He still had the upper hand. Or did he? The dice had been rolled and were strewn across a board game. Only the rules had changed. Where did he fit? How would this all play out?

He slumped back, his eyelids deadened weights.

Why couldn’t she have just left him on the floor to die?

Дата добавления: 2015-10-16