Page 13 of Torn Between Two Worlds

I'm ok G. Ok I'm not. Drinks?

The response text was quick, and she walked to the bathroom, avoiding the mirror. She did not care how she looked, but Ciara knew she needed to clean up for Gina's sake. Turning the cold water on, she stepped into the shower, under the spray. The blessedly frigid water served as a distraction. She thought about nothing except the icy hits of water against her previously warm body.

Getting out of the shower, she twisted her wet hair into a tight bun and grabbed a hair tie off the counter. She didn't bother with makeup and went straight into her closet to grab a sundress and one of Derrick's jackets that he’d given her to remember him by. She wouldn't wear it. Wouldn't be that pathetic, but she would bring it with her in the car. And she would call him and tell him everything. She knew there was no reason to, but maybe she just needed him to listen, since Alcott couldn't anymore.

Or so she thought. Instead, she drove, parked and met Gina without doing a damned thing except driving.

Gina approached her slowly and frowned when she got up close. “I knew you'd be bad off with him leaving. I could tell by how you left the seminar. But shit, I never guessed it would be this bad. Come on, let's get you inside and drunk.” Gina tugged her hand.

She cringed. She looked awful, and, of course, her friend would assume it was because the guy she talked about constantly was gone, not because she'd been sexually intimate with another, hours after meeting him, or that he wasn't human, or shit…wasn't even really real. Sitting down she sighed. All she wanted was to finally talk to someone, anyone, about it all. She never cared before about the isolation, but now it weighed too heavy.

“Two shots of tequila, please. The good stuff, not Jose.”

She saw Gina wink at the server before turning back to her.

“Ok so spill. How bad is it, and how many times a week are we doing this?”

“I really don't want to talk about it, G. I appreciate the drinks. I really do. But I'm not really ready to discuss things.” The tequila was set down on the table, and they grabbed the salt, shook it, licked the line and sucked back the shot without saying a word. She passed on the lime, wanting to feel the burn, to have a bad taste in her mouth. It was at that moment, she realized she hadn't heard from Derrick, and he should've landed by then.

“You know what I do want to talk about, though? About how he hasn't called since he landed, not a text, nothing. I mean I get that we broke up, but jeez, just would've been nice to know he got there safe, you know?”

“That a girl. You focus on the rude things to help you get past it.” She grinned and raised her hand to the server to indicate two more.

“It's not that I really think he's doing it to be rude. He's probably beat. But still. Nothing?” She tossed back the shot that was brought to her before it was even on the table and lightly touched the server’s arm. “Better bring two more of those while you're at it.” He nodded, and she continued, “I mean, I've been home, waiting. Not going out the past forty-eight hours, wanting to be right there when the phone rang. Wanting to hear the sound of Italy, wanting a photo tour of the flat the company is renting for him.” She crossed her arms over her chest. Anger, what a wonderful fuel to take away her own grief. Blaming Derrick for her irritation with Stryder sounded moronic to her ears since they weren’t an item. But Gina didn’t seem to think it was strange, and she wasn’t about to tell her the truth.

“You sound more than a little bit angry, Ci.” Gina chuckled. “Just don't do anything stupid. I've seen that male of yours, and you were great together. But you both grew up and never bothered to notice. You guys were great together, were not are, and youboth decided it was time to say goodbye. Don't ruin how calmly and great it ended because you don't want to be alone.”

Gina was right, and Ciara realized, even if she seemed a little distorted looking. Everything was, and she decided the two shots were slowly making their way through her bloodstream and affecting her brain. As if on cue, Derrick's name flashed across the phone. She tried to wrap her hands around it, but Gina giggled and grabbed it away.

“Oh no, you let him wait. We are drinking, girl, and he is not your man anymore!” Gina let out a whoop as the next round of shots were set down.

Ciara didn't hesitate to throw back the third. “I think…I think we could use the check, so we don't order more.” She was shouting over the music and could barely hear herself. Could barely hear anything as her drunken brain took over. She was hot and tired of moping. Shit happened, and it wasn't as if she had really cheated on Derrick. They were done, and Stryder wasn't even real. It was like fucking a fantasy, only without the sex. “Because he sure is one walking, oozing fantasy.”

“Who? Where?”

She didn't know she'd spoken any of that aloud and flushed as Gina's head whipped around to find the male she thought Ciara was looking at.

“Just thinking out loud, G.” She stood and smoothed her dress down as she double-checked that no one was watching her. Just because she was justifying Stryder, didn't mean she was looking for attention. She had every intention of dancing until she was ready to drop, then calling Derrick to talk to him, and then forget everything. Maybe, just maybe, she would decide never to read again so that she would have no need for a Guardian. No need to see Stryder again. Tossing her hands in the air and swaying her hips, she let the tequila and music work their own brand of magic through the night.

The sky was beginningto shift from pitch back to a light gray as she climbed up the three stories to her apartment and jammed the key into the lock. “Seriously three stories? What the hell were you thinking, picking a third-floor apartment?” If she was honest, Derrick had picked it, but she'd fallen in love with the huge one bedroom and had not had any plans on telling him no.

Locking the door behind her, she walked as gracefully as she could to the kitchen.

Pulling her phone out of her clutch as she went, she pushed the home button and scrolled to find Derrick's name as she fumbled to get a glass of water. Hitting his name, she waited as it rang loudly in her ear. The tone was an annoyance, despite having sobered up about three hours before and grabbing breakfast with Gina from a drive through. Exasperated, she set it on the counter and hit speaker while she filled and quickly drank a glass of water. Tequila was a bitch when it came to dehydration, and they certainly hadn't stopped after three. In fact, if she were right, they'd had three more before dancing so hard she had been coated in a layer of sweat.

“Thank you for calling, I am unable to answer my phone—”

She snarled and smashed her finger on the screen to end the call.

“God damn voicemail! Again!” She picked the phone up and threw it over the countertop onto the couch with a shriek. She heard the thud as it bounced and nodded her head in satisfaction at her childish display of anger. But it made her feel better. The whole night had, right up until she’d sobered up and had gotten in the car to drive home.

She'd dialed Derrick five times. Straight to voicemail every single time. With the time difference, she knew he would be awake and didn't figure he would have already been at work so soon. She hadn't listened to his voicemail so she wouldn't write off the possibility that he had already begun work. But it wouldn't stop her from being pissed off.

“Brilliant. Throw your phone so that when he does call or text, you won't hear it and then you'll be doing this all over again.” She sighed and yanked the hair tie from her hair, letting it fall in tumbled curls around her shoulders before walking to grab her phone. She flipped the ringer switch to on and quickly sent Derrick a text before setting the phone back down on the couch, gently. She hated that she felt needy enough to want to talk to him so badly. She'd never been so utterly alone before, and she was feeling an overwhelming need to read to comfort herself.

Her eyes landed on the dreaded book. It called to her like a siren leading her to temptation, to Stryder.

Cursing, she snatched the book off the table but didn't open it. She'd been thinking about Stryder again. The feel of him in her hand, the way that stupid nickname sounded in ears. She couldn't believe how easily he'd invaded her life. She never, in a million years, would have thought she could have feelings for someone she brought to life. Sexual and romantic feelings. It felt wrong, like a betrayal to her world, as if saying the men there weren't good enough, she would go find a perfectly fabricated one.

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