Page 127 of Prince of Pain

He leaned down so his voice didn’t travel. “Are you the reason her face is beat to shit?”

I cringed, his nostrils flaring, but Mom put a hand on his chest to push him back.

“We’ll discuss this later. Things have gotten messy, and Ry has decided to go back to rehab. We’ll pay to put Tempest into some kind of program. This can’t go on, Arch. Who cares if she hates you for it, at least she’ll be alive. They’ve been on their own for close to three weeks and look at them. The violence wasn’t one-sided either, not that I’m condoning Ryder’s behavior.”

“Can I see her?” I asked, not liking my chances from the way this conversation was going, but he surprised me as he nodded.

“She’s sort of awake, but she’s drowsy from the sedatives. She said something about you calling her and telling her to do it.” He crossed his arms, waiting for my answer, and I pulled my phone from my pocket with a frown, opening my call log.

“I didn’t call her.” I showed him, his features relaxing. “She thinks I told her to kill herself? I’ve said some nasty shit to her before, but never that.”

“I thought it was weird, but I also know you’re a fucking mess and aren’t yourself these days. I’ll take you to her.”

I glanced at Mom, and she nodded, encouraging me to follow Archer along the white hallway until he opened a door to a room, holding it open for me. I stepped inside, and Lexi gave me a watery smile, squeezing my arm gently on her way out to give us some privacy.

Once alone, I made my way towards the bed, Tempest’s eyes fluttering open to try and focus on me. “Ry?”

“Yeah, baby,” I murmured, sitting in the chair beside the bed to take her hand. She was cold, but not as cold as she had been when I’d carried her in here.

“Are you happy now? You said you would be,” she mumbled, my heart hurting. I knew her hallucinations were a problem, but if she’d imagined something like that, it was way worse than I’d thought.

“I didn’t call you, Temp. It was your mind playing tricks on you,” I said carefully, not wanting to set her off. “You need help. We both do. If I ask you to get help with me, will you?”

Her lip trembled, and she gripped my hand a little tighter, her voice soft. “You don’t hate me?”

“I’m mad, but I want you better. We can do it together,” I promised, relief filling me when she nodded. She tried pulling me closer, and I stood, tugging my ruined shirt off before lying down beside her and wrapping an arm around her middle. “This only works if we both get sober. If you don’t want to, I can’t be with you. That’s not me trying to manipulate you, that’s me being honest.”

“I want to. I’m sorry for spiking your drink,” she choked out, her face pressing into my neck as she tried to curl into me. It was hard with her wrapped wrists and everything connected to her, but we made it work.

I stroked her back, and she sank into me, her breathing eventually evening out as she fell asleep. Someone poked their head in at some point, but I wasn’t rolling over to see who, and they obviously decided not to bother us.

I had to hope Tempest was serious about wanting to get sober because I couldn’t do it for her. If she wasn’t one hundred percent on board, she’d fail.

I’d seen a lot of people come and go in the clinic when I’d been there, and I knew if I gave her a reason to keep pushing, she might at least try.

I couldn’t force her though, and I had to think of my own recovery.

I kissed the top of her head and sighed, wondering what the next few months would bring.

The date on her chart said it was the thirteenth, and my heart hurt a little at knowing we’d both be away from family for Christmas. That first month was crucial though, so I’d do whatever I could to get back on the right path and return home.

The hardest part was admitting you needed help sometimes, so at least I’d finally gotten Tempest to do that.

Now, I just had to hope she wanted the change badly enough to stick it out because those bad days? They fucking sucked, but it was worth it.

I’d gotten clean before, so I knew I could do it again.

Tempest

I hated waking up alone. I’d been in the hospital for three days, and most of it had been a blur of doctors and tests. Mom and Dad had been in here most days, but I’d slept through most of it.

Whatever drugs they had me on was keeping the withdrawals away, but not enough to feel like I had a good hit. It was almost frustrating.

“Temp?” Mom asked quietly, making me realize I’d zoned out and was staring out the window.

“Hmm?”

“I’m proud of you,” she said softly, hesitating before reaching over to grab my hand. She’d been glued to the seat beside my bed since Ryder had left some time through the first night I was here.

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