Page 25 of Tainted Wings of Failure

"I don't know…" His voice is so quiet I can barely hear him over my own loud sobs.

My bottom lip quivers as I take one last look around the driveway, hoping this is just a sick joke, that he is hiding somewhere, that he is behind a tree to surprise me, but there is no one beside us. I raise my hand and wipe my face with the sleeves of the button-up. "Get inside. Now!" I urge and Kyle follows my request.

Once in our living room, I go to Noah's whiskey cabinet, fling open the door, grab one of the expensive bottles, unscrew the cap, and take a shot straight from the bottle. I close my eyes, feeling the alcohol sting in my throat, and take a deep breath before turning to face Kyle. He stands awkwardly in the middle of the living room, shifting his weight from one leg to the other as he watches me.

"Are you drunk?" He asks with genuine concern in his voice.

"It's none of your fucking business." I snap before I can stop myself, the words coming out louder than I intended. My outburst rings in my ears, setting the room around me in motion, or maybe it's just my head. "What happened?" I manage to ask, my voice a little shaky.

Kyle gestures to the sofa. "Sit down."

"I'm fine," I lie, stumbling over the words as I raise my free hand and rub my eyes, hoping to ease the dizziness.

"Evelyn, please."

Sighing in defeat, I follow his request and sit down on the edge of the sofa, my grip on the neck of the bottle remaining firm. Watching him through still slightly blurry, tear-filled eyes, I listen to the story. With each sentence that describes what has happened to him over the past few days, another piece of my heart breaks, sending a wave of grief through me, and I realize that Noah is likely going through the same thing right now.

"How did you get away?" I ask as soon as Kyle is done.

"Thanks to a drunk idiot who forgot to lock my cell one night, I was able to slip away."

"And Noah?"

"I have no idea. I tried to look for him, but he wasn't in the same place as me."

I set the bottle down on the coffee table and curl into myself, burying my face in the palms of my hands. When a strong hand lands on my shoulder and gives it a reassuring squeeze, I flinch. "Is he dead?" I ask, muffled by the hands pressed to my face.

"Possibly…"

My breath hitches in my throat while my body collapses. My chest burns, seething with pain as my heart feels like it will burst at any second. The image of his dead, lifeless face, his green eyes losing all their brightness, flashes before my mind's eye. Kyle squats down in front of me, wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a hug.

My pain morphs into anger and I snap. I pull myself up, put my hands on his shoulders and shove him away from me. "Don't you even dare trying to comfort me!" I yell at him through heavy sobs, tears rolling down my cheeks. "You're the one who took him away from me!" I push myself off the sofa and hurl one of the pillows at him. "If he is dead, it’s your fault!" He doesn't dodge the pillow and just accepts the blow.

"Evelyn." He stands up again and takes a step toward me, but I fling another pillow at him.

"You took him from me. You are the one who will bring him back," I scream, my voice hoarse from the countless shed tears of the past few days.

"What if he's dead?"

"I don't care, you will bring him back to me, dead or alive," I warn him. "But for your own sake, I hope he is still alive."

"What if not?"

"You are going to wish they had killed you too, because you are going to join him in hell sooner than you wished, and I am going to make your death as painful for you as it is for me to lose him."

Kyles sighs and then nods. "I will bring him back, I promise." He offers me a weak smile. As glad as I am that Kyle is alive and well, that his parents have him back, I don't want him; I don't need him. I only need Noah.

My body trembles as I can't hold in the emotions anymore and I let go. The tension rolls off my shoulders with each wave of tears. His hand lands on my shoulder and he pulls me closer, wrapping his arm around me and holding me close to his chest. This time I let him and wrap my arms around his middle, sinking my fingers into the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

He smells so much like Noah, a hint of cigarettes mixed with the familiar cologne they both use. I tighten my arms around him, embracing the warmth that radiates off his body and the comforting scent that drapes over me like a cozy blanket. If I close my eyes, if I try hard enough, I can fool myself into believing that this is Noah holding me. That he is back home with me.

Chapter 14

Evelyn

The living room is a mess. Kyle and I turned Noah's entire office upside down, dug through every cabinet and drawer, searched through all of his belongings until we found all of his electronics. If Noah knew what we had done, he would be furious. His office is his private sanctuary, where he can retreat when he needs time to himself. Unless he's in there making calls or arrangements, I don't often go in there.

My head is still throbbing with the remnants of a hangover, but I push the discomfort aside. Even though I told Kyle it was his responsibility to bring Noah home, seeing him gave me the push I needed to crawl out of my hole, and I'm not going to let him do it alone. With him here, I have a starting point, and if I want this done right, I need to be involved.

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