Page 111 of Take What You Want

Their bickering relaxes me and as the three of us settle in, realization sinks in of how tense I’ve been feeling around my other friends lately. Between the three of us here, there’s no secrets. Jane and I don’t have to hide our relationship, and Reid and Jane don’t have to hide what they helped me through years ago.

It’s not that I’m ashamed of it and that’s why I don’t want to tell Hayden and Walker. I know they’d understand. But I don’t want them to look at me differently. To know my head got so dark that there wasn’t the usual spark of “Nikolai” that they’re used to. If I can protect them from that, I will.

So when Walker pressed Reid at dinner last year for why he doesn’t hold my silence toward the group against me like he does Hayden, I didn’t speak up. And Reid wouldn’t have wanted me to either. Not for his sake.

And Jane covered for me, too, willing to take the heat if it meant I was spared from the flames.

My eyes dart back and forth between the two of them, the two people I love the most in this world beside my brother, and I’ve never been more grateful that Jane made that call to Reid that night.

And that he dropped everything to be there for me.

TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO

NIKOLAI

I pull the bottle of vodka to my lips and take a swig that makes oblivion jealous. I don’t remember coming in the bathroom or sitting on the floor of my shower, but here I am. Drink in one hand, my ticket out of pain in the other, and a head full of nightmares.

My phone buzzes beside me as Jane tries to call me back. I shouldn’t have texted her. Shouldn’t have answered her call. Hearing her voice was the sweetest relief but also the deepest cut. It’s just another reminder of what I lost.

But I needed to tell her I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to for years, but the time has never felt right. We don’t talk much anymore and she’s moved on. She seems happy.

Tonight was exhausting. It was the same routine. Dinner, drinks, club, women. Rinse and repeat. Anything to try to forget what haunts me when I’m alone.

The smell of gunpowder and the shaking of my mother’s body beneath my own.

The screams of parents as they watched their children stand in the line of fire.

The realization that I’m alive and others aren’t.

Why is that?

Why me?

I want to forget. I want to move on. But it feels like my feet are buried in quicksand and the more I fight, the more I push, the faster I sink.

The old Nikolai feels so far away but yet no one seems to notice. Have I gotten that good at pretending?

The plastic of the pill bottle grows warm in my tight grip. Part of me is demanding I open them. That I finally get the relief of forgetting that I’ve been searching for through adrenaline and partying but it’s never enough. But another part of me keeps that lid in place, the faces of the people I love flashing through my mind.

Milo.

Reid.

Hayden.

Walker.

Her.

It would be so easy. Wouldn’t it? I’ve already seen what it’s like for someone to be here one moment and gone the next. It wasn’t my turn then, but is it now?

I hear the faintest pounding, like someone’s at my door, but my legs don’t move. I’m stuck where I am as my head spins. Maybe it’s my mind playing tricks on me.

My arm is sluggish as I raise the bottle to my lips again. I miss my mouth at first and a bit of liquor splashes down my chin and soaks the top of my T-shirt. I don’t have it in me to care.

After another few gulps, I let my head fall back against the tiles. They’re cold but do nothing to cool my heated skin. My eyes fall shut as again I hear a muffled commotion.

I should get up and investigate. What if I’m being robbed?

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