Page 70 of Freeing Emily

Releasing a deep breath, I push off the bed and begin my search for her medications. I find them in a basket under the bathroom sink. Pulling it out, I set it on top of the counter and begin rifling through it. I don’t know what any of these medications are for, so I search each of them up on the internet.

Antipsychotics.

Muscle relaxers.

Antidepressants.

A variety of eye drops.

The number of medications in this basket seems endless and my heart breaks the more of them that I discover.

Shite.

I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles whiten and close my eyes. My limbs tremble and I fight to contain the emotional pain and grief that fill my system. I need to do something. But what? What could I possibly do for Emily to see that she doesn’t need to rely on medication to survive?

When I go to place the basket back under the sink, I find a small box that seems out of place. I reach over and pick it up. It’s light and I assume it might be empty, so I go to put it back. It slips from my grasp and falls. Loose tablets and capsules of unknown medications spill across the tiled floor.

What the fuck?

Some of these look like the ones in the bottles, others don’t and it sends a wave of unease through my body.

Where in the fuck did she get these?

I pull my phone from my pocket and snap some photos of the medications before cleaning up and putting everything away. Striding back into the room, Emily lies in the same position as I left her.

I walk to the side of the bed that is closest to the door. Slipping off my boots, I take off my pants and tee before sliding into bed. Lying on my back, I tuck my arm under my head and drape the other over my stomach. My thoughts are in disarray with everything I’ve learned today.

Emily’s phone pings and I move to check the screen.

Ma:

I love you, Emily. Please don’t push me away. Call me back.

Furrowing my brows, I peer at Emily over my shoulder.

Emily has always been close with Caetlin. Why would she be pushing her away?

I set her phone back on the nightstand and lay back down. After spending hours staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what to do, I finally drift off to sleep.

It’s hot. Why is it so hot? I shift, trying to push the blankets off my body, but there are none. I shift again and hit something hard. My eyes fly open, and I sit up. My heart gallops in my chest, my throat closes, and tears instantly fill my vision.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s me.” Liam’s raspy voice fills my ears. Turning to my right, I see him sitting shirtless in my bed.

What the hell?

“Wh-what are you doing here?” I pant. My eyes drift down his chest and stop when I see a butterfly tattoo over his heart. My brows furrow and I raise my confused gaze to his eyes.

“What is that?” I gesture to the tattoo.

“You.” He says softly.

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head.

I pull away when he reaches for me. “Liam, what are you doing in my room? In my bed?”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “I came to see you last night and you were nearly comatose from whatever shite you took.”

I scoff and roll my eyes. “That doesn’t explain why you’re in my bed.” Anger begins to simmer in my blood.

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