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by Ashley Jade
“Speed.”
Goddammit.
Placing the spatula down again, I look him in the eyes. “Let me get this straight…you gave my girlfriend speed?”
His guilt is palpable, but not nearly as palpable as the rage I have coursing through me.
“She said she needed it to help her stu—”
He doesn’t get to finish that sentence because I propel my fist into his face. “When?”
He staggers back. “When what?”
I punch him again. “When did you start giving them to her?”
“A few months ago. Around the time you two started dating.”
That’s when she started losing weight.
I grab the collar of his hoodie. “Where did you get the pills?”
“I’ve been dealing for Loki.”
Son-of-a-bitch. I launch my fist into his face again. “What the fuck is the matter with you?”
Giving her pills from a lowlife drug dealer? Fuck knows what could have been in them.
Jesus Christ. He could have killed her.
I’m so pissed. So fucking pissed I want to light his precious BMW on fire and then piss on it, so he feels just a small fraction of what I do right now.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “So fucking sorry.”
Sorry doesn’t cut it. Sawyer’s been disappearing before my very eyes for months thanks to him.
I punch him again. Hard. So hard I feel his skin split and his nose crack beneath my knuckles.
The guy who was my best friend is nothing but a traitor… a traitor who’s been dealing drugs to the girl I love behind my back for months.
He didn’t just break the code…the motherfucker shit all over it.
“You bastard.” I deck him again. “I went to my dad and gave you a place to stay when you had nothing, you piece of shit.”
I’ve held his head up when he drank too much and puked.
I’ve watched over him whenever he’s had seizures to make sure he was safe.
I’ve lied to Jace about him doing drugs because he didn’t want Jace to end their friendship.
I kicked people’s asses for fucking with him back when he was new in town.
Hell, I considered him my surrogate brother, the one who took Liam’s place…and this is how he repays me?
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, over and over.
Christ. If it was anyone else, I could probably forgive him.
But not my Sawyer. She’s my line you don’t cross.
She’s my everything.
Blood trickles down his face and onto the floor. I bring my hand back to sock him again, but a sharp shooting pain grips my chest.
I stumble back. “Fuck.”
“Are you okay?” Oakley questions.
It hurts so bad I can’t even tell him to go fuck himself.
Liam.
It can’t be, though. It’s impossible.
Another round hits, worse than before.
“You’re really starting to scare me, man.”
I’m about to tell him he should be scared because I’m not done kicking his ass yet—but my phone rings.
I dig out my cell. Why the hell is Dylan calling me?
I feel sick when it occurs to me. “Something’s wrong with Jace.”
“What—” Oakley starts to say, but I bring the phone to my ear.
“What happened to him?”
Dylan’s crying so hard she can’t form words…just sobs.
Gripping the phone in my hand, I scream, “Goddammit, Dylan! What the fuck happened to my brother?”
Jace is our glue…me and Bianca…we fucking need him.
“Jace is fine,” she croaks through another round of sobs. “Sawyer…she...had a heart attack. Her parents called an ambulance, but she coded on the way there—”
The phone drops from my hand…and I drop to my knees.
I hated my father for not being able to move after he found Liam in the closet that day.
But now…I think I understand.
It’s not that he didn’t want to…it’s that he couldn’t.
Because the agony and heartbreak were so severe, so penetrating, that even though he was still breathing…
He died too.
Chapter 90
Cole
“Cole,” Dylan and Jace yell from the waiting room.
Evidently, I dropped the phone before Dylan could finish. Sawyer did code in the ambulance on the way here, but they brought her back.
I march over to them. “Where is she?”
I need to see her, touch her, feel her, kiss her…to know she’s really okay.
I need my heart put back in my chest in order to be alive.
Jace and Dylan exchange a glance.
“We can’t see her right now,” Dylan starts. “Her parents are talking to the doctors, though and they’ll update us soon.” Her red-rimmed eyes flick over to Oakley. “What happened to your face?”
Oakley hangs his head. “Nothing”
The fuck it didn’t. The only reason he isn’t dead is because I needed a ride to the hospital.
“What happened?” Bianca screams. “Where’s Sawyer?”
“How did you get here?” Jace questions.
“I took an Uber.” She looks at me. “Where’s Sawyer?”
That’s exactly what I want to know.
I’m about to march past the visiting room and find out myself, but Sawyer’s parents walk through the double doors.
I don’t like the expression on either of their faces.
Or the fact that they both look like they’ve been crying.
“Mr. Church,” I yell, my voice a thread away from snapping. “She’s okay, right? I can see her.”
She’s eighteen. She’s young, vibrant—and before Oakley stuffed those goddamn pills down her throat—she was healthy.
If people in their sixties and seventies can survive heart attacks, Sawyer should have no problem recovering.
They look at each other, but neither of them say a word.
Fine. If no one is going to tell me how Sawyer is, I’ll just find out for myself.
I start to brush past them, but a large hand clamps down on my shoulder. “We need to talk,” Mr. Church says.
“Can we talk after?”
After I see the most important person in the world.
His brown eyes—eyes that look just like Sawyer’s—are so despondent the sharp ache in my chest is back.
He hustles me over to an empty seat near Dylan and Jace.
Then he addresses the group.
“I have good news…and I have some very bad news.”
“Start with the good news,” Dylan says. “I don’t know if I can take anymore bad.”
Her father nods in understanding. “The good news is they were able to revive her.”
“What’s the bad news?” I bark.
He takes several deep breaths, like he’s trying to gather the courage to say his next words.
“She had a massive heart attack.”
“Cardiac arrest,” Mrs. Church mutters. “Get it right.”
“Does it really matter, Jolene?” he grunts before he addresses us again. “Anyway, in order for her to have the best chance for survival…they needed to put her in a medically induced coma.”
I bolt out of my seat. “What?”
A coma? That doesn’t make any sense.
“Why? Why would they do that to her?”
“To reduce the workload on her heart. Help her recover from the trauma—”
“If she recovers,” her mom chokes out through sobs. “Oh, God.”
“What do you mean if she recovers? What the fuck does that mean?”
Of course she’s recovering. She has to.
Mr. Church looks like he wants to throttle his wife. “I told you to let me handle this.” He looks around at all of us. “The chances for survival after something like this are…not great. But I don’t want y’all to think about that right now. Sawyer needs all the p
ositivity and prayers she can get.”
“When can I see her?”
He motions for me to sit down again.
I don’t.
“It’s immediate family only since she’s in the ICU.”
Yeah, that’s not going to work.
As if sensing my frustration, his eyes cut to me. “We’ve talked to the nurses and they’re willing to make an exception for you and Dylan.” He looks between us. “One at a time, though.” He stands. “However, before I let anyone see her, we need to talk about something else.”
Confused, everyone glances at each other.
“What?” Dylan finally asks.
“The doctors said she has amphetamine in her system, but we’re having a hard time believing that because—”
“Sawyer doesn’t do drugs,” Dylan interjects. “She would never do drugs. Trust me.” Her voice wobbles. “We tell each other everything. She would have told me.”
Mrs. Church nods. “I know, sweetheart. However, I found an empty unmarked pill bottle in her purse.”
“We’ve been trying to figure out where it came from,” Mr. Church says. “Because Sawyer taking drugs just doesn’t make sense to us.”
“The doctors keep insisting she was, though,” Mrs. Church whispers, looking at Dylan. “Honey, if you know something—”
“Your daughter isn’t doing drugs,” Dylan declares. “I know my best friend. The doctors made a mistake.”
I look at Oakley, but he won’t look at me. Coward.
“Okay, then.” Mr. Church clears his throat. “Cole, you can see her now if you want.”
I pull out my phone as I head for the double doors and type out a text.
Cole: You better tell Sawyer’s parents the truth right now, shithead. Or I will.
The least he can do is look her parents in the eyes and explain to them why their daughter is lying in a hospital bed…fighting for her life.
The room feels freezing cold the moment I walk inside.
But it’s nothing compared to the icy chill up my spine when I see her.
Mr. Church told me it was a lot to take in, but I didn’t listen.
A slew of cords and IV’s surround her.
A mask covers most of her face…one that’s hooked up to a machine.
There’s a bandage on her forehead. I’m guessing from when she collapsed and hit her head on the sink.
But it’s the lifeless way she’s lying there that does me in.
For as long as I’ve known this girl, she’s been a spitfire…lighting up my life with her sass and sarcasm.
With her big heart.
I want nothing more than for her to wake up and tell me it will all be fine…but she can’t.
Chest heavy, I take the seat on the left because there’s less shit in my way.
I hate that her glasses are off and I can’t look into her eyes, so I reach for her hand instead.
There are a million questions I have for her about how we ended up here…but none of them matter right now.
Bringing her hand to my lips, I give her a kiss.
Then I stand up.
Because I am not watching her wither away like this.
I refuse to.
The girl I love isn’t a goddamn wilting flower.
She’s a motherfucking fighter.
All her life she’s been fighting society, the assholes who bullied her…even her own mother.
But right now, I need her to fight for me…for us.
“You better fucking fight, Bible Thumper.” Leaning over the bed, I glare at her. “Fight for me the way I fought for you…because I can’t do this without you.”
I won’t.
Without her...there is no me.
Chapter 91
Cole
I hear bickering in the hall the second I walk outside her room.
“Everything was great before she started hanging out with you,” Dylan screams at Bianca. “You screwed her up with all your manipulation and bullshit. Constantly making her feel like she wasn’t good enough. She’s dying in there because of you.”
“Kind of like what you did to Liam?” Bianca snaps.
Jesus. This is the last thing Sawyer would want.
Before anyone can stop her, Dylan swings her fist into Bianca’s face. “You little bitch.”
“Hey.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, Jace yanks his girlfriend back. “That’s enough.”
Mouth open in shock, Bianca places her hand on her red cheek. “Did you seriously just punch me?”
Bianca lunges toward Dylan, but Oakley grabs her. “He said enough.”
The fact Oakley’s still here tells me he still hasn’t told them the truth yet.
I stride toward them, but Dylan’s isn’t done.
“God, your family is so fucked up.” She’s screaming at Jace, attempting to wiggle out of his arms, but it’s obvious her actual wrath is directed at me and Bianca. “Why did they have to mess with her? She was perfect.” Big, ugly tears roll down her cheeks as she looks my way. “She was so fucking perfect and he ruined her…because that’s what Cole does. He shatters amazing people…right before they die.”
Bianca rears back like she’s been punched again and Jace filches.
I just stand there and take it.
Dylan’s angry and confused. She needs someone to blame. I get it.
Dylan’s eyes sharpen on me. “She was perfect, and she loved you so, so much. All she ever wanted was to be good enough for you…and you destroyed her.”
Dylan’s right. I do destroy people.
But I never wanted to destroy Sawyer.
All I wanted to do was love her.
“No, he didn’t,” Oakley whispers, his voice hoarse. “Cole wasn’t the one supplying Sawyer with Adderall for months…I was.”
“Let me go,” Dylan grunts, slapping Jace’s arm.
When he does, she gets in Oakley’s face. “Tell me you’re joking.” The sorrow in her expression is replaced by pure rage as she shoves him. “Tell me you’re fucking joking, Oakley.”
There are tears in Oakley’s eyes when he looks at her.
Good. Hurt, motherfucker.
“I’ve been working for Loki, and Sawyer asked me to get—”
The sharp sting of Dylan’s hand slapping his already bruised cheek is so loud I feel it. “You’re disgusting.” Dropping her voice, she leans in close. “You better pray she’s okay. Because if she’s not…I will never fucking forgive you.”
She stalks off in a cloud of fury.
Jace glares at Oakley. “Jesus Christ. I don’t even know what to say to you right now.” His gaze shifts to Bianca and then me before settling on Bianca. “I always put you first. Every single fucking time I choose you and this goddamn family over her.” He backs away. “Not anymore.”
“Jace,” Bianca calls out, her voice trembling.
Ignoring her, he chases after Dylan.
I look at Oakley. “Tell her parents. Now.”
“I already did. I was coming out here to tell everyone else too, but Dylan and Bianca were already fighting when I came back.” He exhales a shaky breath. “I’m sorry—”
“Don’t. An apology won’t fix this, asshole.”
“I know it won’t,” He braces himself against the wall. “I just—”
His eyes roll back and his body breaks out in a fit of jerks and shakes.
Bianca’s quick on her feet and makes herself a cushion for him before he hits the floor and cracks his head.
“Cole, I need your help. He’s too heavy.”
He’s the last person in the world I want to help right now…but I know Sawyer would want me to.
So I do.
“Was Dylan right? Did I destroy you? Is that how we ended up here?”
Just like the last twenty-four hours…I get no response from her.
The doctors are concerned…but they said to give it a little more time.
I’ve got nothing but time for her.
“I’m so
rry I called you fat that day. I’m sorry I joined the group of assholes who hurt you…but I swear I didn’t fucking mean it.”
I intertwine my fingers with hers. “I’ll love you at a hundred pounds and I’ll love you at five-hundred pounds.” I bring her hand to my lips. “I’ll love you in whatever shape and form you come in…because you’re you.”
Rising off the chair, I lean over her bed. “If you’re still mad at me for what I did…then wake up and fight with me. Scream that I’m an asshole…break my fucking heart and leave my ass…but please…come back.”
Because without her…there is no me.
Chapter 92
Cole
I watch in confusion as they cart her bed down the hall.
It’s only been a little over forty-eight hours since she was admitted, so I don’t understand the sudden room switch.
I look at her parents. “Why are they moving her?”
They exchange a forlorn glance.
Mr. Church glances at his wife. “I’ll tell him. You go grab us some more coffee.”
Teary-eyed, Mrs. Church nods before she takes off.
Apprehension rises in my throat. “Tell me what?”
He puts his arm around me. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”
I maneuver away from him. “I don’t want to take a walk. I want to know what’s going on with Sawyer.”
He motions for me to sit down on a nearby chair, but I don’t.
With a heavy sigh, he points to a large room with clear walls near the nurse’s station. “They’re moving her there so they can keep a better eye on her…make sure they don’t miss any signs that she’s improving.”
“How can they look for signs of improvement when she can’t move because she’s in a coma? A coma they put her in.”
His shoulders slump. “There is no easy way to say this.” Folding his hands, he looks down at the floor. “The doctor said we’d know more about her outcome after the first forty-eight hours. But the first forty-eight hours have come and gone…and she’s still not improving.” His eyes close. “The lack of improvement isn’t because of the coma…it’s because she’s not responding.”