Page 109 of Take What You Want

Me: Are you in LA right now

Me: It’s urgent please

Nikolai gives me a quiet, “No,” while I wait for Reid’s response.

Reid: yeah why?

Me: You need to get over to Nikolai’s right now

Reid: I was just with him a couple hours ago

What the hell?

Me: Did something happen?

Reid: no? what’s going on?

“Are you still there?” I ask Nikolai as the line has grown quiet.

A heavy, exhausted sigh rings through the line and I furiously text Reid.

Me: Just get over there now

Me: I’m on the phone with him and he’s not okay

“I wish I could be there right now, but since I can’t, I texted Reid. I’m going to stay on the phone with you until he comes, okay? He’s going to stay with you.”

“Don’t,” he says through his tears. “I don’t want anyone seeing me like this. I’m sick of feeling like this.”

I fight back my own tears at the hurt in his voice. If I could take every ounce of pain from him right now and put it on my own shoulders, I would. To hear the one you love in so much pain is worse than feeling it yourself.

“I know, babe, I know,” I whisper, the words fighting past the lump in my throat. “But it won’t always be like this. You’re so strong, you’re stronger than anyone I know.”

He laughs humorlessly. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

“It doesn’t matter if it doesn’t feel like it. It’s still true. How’s Milo? Is he going to come out and visit sometime soon?” I try distracting him by switching the conversation to his brother, but it’s like he doesn’t register what I’m saying.

“It was good to hear your voice, LJ,” he says, his voice sounding lost and distant. “I’ve missed it.”

And with that, the line goes dead.

“Nikolai?” I cry out, even though I know the call has dropped. I frantically click on his name again but the call goes straight to voicemail. Hanging up, I call Reid, who answers almost immediately.

“Are you on your way? Please, Reid, I’m not fucking around.” The tears and panic I’ve been fighting back for Nikolai’s sake come rushing to the forefront and I can’t hide them anymore.

“Yeah, I’m a couple minutes away,” he says. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” I pace the room, pulling at my hair. “He texted me out of nowhere apologizing and saying it was always his fault. I called him and he’s crying and—” I choke on a sob and clutch my hand against my chest as if that will help the ripping sensation. “Reid, he’s not okay. Please, just get there,” I plead.

“Fuck,” he curses. “I’m on my way. I promise.” His car engine revs in the background. “I was just with him and he seemed fine.”

But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Nikolai always seems fine.

29

NIKOLAI

Iwas in a dark place after the shooting. I was too focused on trying to keep everyone else together: my brother, Hayden, my parents, that I didn’t notice when I fell apart. Not until I found myself on the floor of my shower with a bottle of vodka and a handful of pills I found stashed in the back of my medicine cabinet.

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