Page 45 of Lost in Life

Before I can talk myself out of it, I push him back, surprised when he moves without resistance. Watching me curiously, he half kneels on the couch, one leg still placed on the floor. With him far enough back from me to wiggle out from under him, I clamber to my feet. Turning to face him, I push his shoulder, encouraging him to sit back. He obeys, his expression full of amused curiosity.

Once I have him situated where I want him, I climb onto his lap, straddling him. He sucks in a breath as I lower myself onto his lap, his hardened cock pressing against my aching pussy almost enough to distract me. Almost.

Resting my hands on his shoulders, I slowly run them down his body, my fingers trailing through the soft curls lining his broad chest. I lean closer, rolling my hips into him. He moans loudly, his hands moving to my hips. I suck in a breath at the sensation of his rough fingers brushing against the skin peeking out from under my top, trying to remain focused.

Moving my hands to my chest, I slide them down my body, watching his eyes follow the movement, goosebumps rising under his heated gaze. I move to grip his wrists, pulling them away from my body and pressing his hands down on the couch on either side of his thighs. He smirks, allowing me the power in this moment.

Bad choice.

Sucking in a calming breath, I lean my head back slightly before propelling forward and smacking my forehead directly onto his nose, leaping off his lap in the same motion. He howls, enraged as blood seeps down his broken nose.

I don’t have time to admire my handiwork, knowing it only bought me a few seconds. Sprinting across the room, I snatch up the keys on the counter and run out the front door, the sound of Zayn’s furious shouts following me as I desperately search for the car.

Fumbling with the keys, I click the unlock button, listening closely for the telltale beep. A faint noise drifts to me and I take off in its direction, careful to watch for traps in my hurry to get away.

I let out a relieved cry as I spot the vehicle. Flinging the door open, I jump inside and immediately hit the lock button.

A loud thud sounds as Zayn runs into the car, yanking on the locked handle. “Open the door!” He roars, pounding on the glass.

I flip him off, throwing the car in reverse. “Fuck you, asshole!” I shout, backing up the car, disappointed when he leaps out of the way and I don’t get the satisfying sound of his feet being crushed.

I still broke his nose, so there’s that.

With a mental pat on my back, I drive off, my mind focused on the one thing I need to do more than anything. Pressing my foot down harder on the gas pedal, I drive as fast as I can.

I’m not losing anyone else.

“I’m sorry, miss. There was nothing more we could have done.” I don’t have the energy to respond as I stare down at Hollis’ lifeless body.

I was too late.

His last moments.

He was all alone.

If I had only gotten away sooner. Maybe I could have…

A tear rolls down my cheek, quickly followed by another as the dam of emotion breaks. Suddenly I find nothing matters.

I have nothing, I have no one.

My eyes land on the small bag of Hollis’ personal effects sitting on the table beside his hospital bed. I reach out with numb fingers, rifling through the bag and pulling out his phone. I stare at the screen, a photo of the two of us staring back at me.

A sob breaks free from my chest and I can’t be here.

Shoving the phone into my pocket, I stumble blindly out of the room, hunting for the exit behind blurry eyes. Distant voices try to talk to me, but I can’t focus enough to hear what they’re saying. I hear the ding of the elevator and pivot toward the noise, desperately needing to be out of here, away from this place of death.

That’s all hospitals are in my experience, just a fast track to hell.

I wonder if ghosts get trapped here.

I push away the thought, irritated West’s crazy has rubbed off on me. There’s no such thing as ghosts, not in real life. Just a longing to hold onto our loved ones a little longer.

My heart cracks as I’m flooded with the same agony I felt all those years ago when Mona died. And then again when West left me.

Exiting the elevator, I walk past all the concerned faces, ignoring their attempts to make sure I’m alright.

I’m not alright. I don’t know if I ever will be again.

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