Page 78 of Bleed for Me

I swallowed past the lump in my throat and attempted focusing on the conversation around me. Tyler and Ryder were arguing about what cars were faster, but that didn’t interest me in the slightest and pretending that it did, required too much effort.

After a few moments of their back-and-forth banter, Cheyanne turned to me. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun on the top of her head, colorful strands poking out at all angles. For someone with schizophrenia, she was extremely observant. Shetilted her head in curiosity, her brown eyes searching mine like she was trying to get a read on me.

“How are things?” she asked hesitantly after a few moments.

I wanted to laugh. I was in a mental institution. My boyfriend cheated on me, Seven took my virginity and I wasn’t sure why I even allowed it—not that it would have stopped him anyway. Archer followed me around like a lost puppy, said extremely inappropriate things that I wasn’t used to, and I was torn between wanting him to stop and wanting him to actually go through with the crude things he suggested. Life felt meaningless now. There was no home for me to run back to after this. Daisy was gone, my mom couldn’t stand the sight of me, and Alex was never mine to begin with.

My world had been turned upside down on its axis and I was starting to feel numb, starting to not care what happened to me. My future had been mapped out. A life with Alex, getting my degree, and caring for my sister since my mom couldn’t be bothered to protect her. It might have been mundane, but wasn’t that how life was supposed to be once you had everything? Just moving through the motions until you died?

I was about to ask Cheyanne what she meant by that, because there was no way in hell I was going to tell her any of that, but when her gaze slipped to the table diagonal from ours, I understood. The last time I sat with her without Archer hanging around, Seven had poured chocolate milk all over my head, and right after that, I sat attheirtable.

“What’s their deal?” I countered.

She sucked her lip between her teeth, her gaze darting around the room like someone might hear her. When no one appeared to be paying us any mind, she focused her attention back on me. “We’ve been through this.” She sighed. “And I remember telling you that I wasn’t going to talk about it anymore.”

“Fine. Then stop asking questions and I won’t ask you any.”

I liked Cheyanne. She was the first person here who had shown me any kindness, but if she wouldn’t even indulge me in something that could potentially harm me, why wouldn’t she want to say anything? It felt selfish. But she’d been here longer and knew them better, so maybe she was just afraid.

Her gaze softened, varying emotions flickering across her face before her shoulders dropped in defeat and she released a heavy sigh. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Rosalie. It’s nothing against you. It’s just?—”

Ryder’s words cut through hers, bringing her sentence to an abrupt halt. “It’s because they’re fucking insane,” he finished, not bothering to keep his tone low. Tyler shifted uncomfortably from beside him, glancing around the cafeteria with nervous apprehension, similar to what Cheyanne had done.

“I get that,” I replied. “But it doesn’t really tell me anything.”

He nodded in understanding. “Meet me in the garden after group tomorrow and I’ll tell you everything you need to know.” He shrugged.

A lump formed in my throat, making it more difficult to breathe. Jordan’s earlier words bounced around my skull, telling me that this was a very bad idea. But what choice did I really have? Ryder didn’t seem like an awful person. Everything about him was casual and laid back. He hasn’t even flirted with me. We’ve been alone before, and he didn’t try anything. Maybe Jordan was wrong, or maybe he lied.

“Sure.” I nodded. “Thanks.”

When I reached the door to where church was held, I slipped inside, taking in the empty pews littered around the large room.Tension immediately rolled out of my shoulders, calm washing over me. This was my only solace. Or…it used to be. I always went to church with Alex. But screw him. He wasn’t going to take this from me, too.

Valentine’s office door was cracked, the light from within pouring out into the dim room. Hesitantly, I made my way toward it and pushed it open. My eyes widened as I took in his disheveled appearance. He was leaning back in his chair, his dark hair ruffled like he’d just woken up even though it was nearing seven in the afternoon. A glass of something dark sat before him on the table, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it wasn’t alcohol, but that’s exactly what it was. His white button-down shirt was crinkled, the sleeves bunched toward his forearms, revealing what appeared to be a sleeve of ink.

His gaze jerked to mine, embarrassment twisting his features. Almost as if he’d forgotten why he was here in the first place. “Rosalie,” he slurred, his voice coming out desperate and pained.

“If this isn’t a good time…” I trailed off with reluctance.

“No. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He forced a smile, but it came out boyish, making him look much younger. “I’m not that drunk.”

I snorted at that. His eyes were glazed over with a thick haze and his cheeks were rosy. “I’ve never seen a preacher drink before,” I teased, my shoulders relaxing slightly. If he said he was fine, then he had to be. He knew what he was doing, after all. It wasn’t exactly my place to judge him.

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, the sound vibrating through me and forcing my thighs to tighten. What the hell? He was my preacher. Entirely off limits. So why was I attracted to him, especially in this vulnerable state? Shoving those thoughts away, I took a single step, uncertainty careening through me.

“I set you up your own office,” he said thickly, scrambling out of his chair. “It’s not much but figured you could use one.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

I frowned, not sure how to feel about the kind gesture. Not to mention, he was being weird. Not that I knew much about him to begin with, but he appeared like he was put together. My eyes drifted back to the mostly empty whiskey glass still sitting on his desk.Thiswasn’tput together.

He crossed the room, his steps sloppy and uncoordinated. The scent of alcohol clung to his body, strangling my senses with every inhale. People didn’t get this wasted by themselves for the hell of it. I’d seen it time and time again with my mom and Gentry. They drank because it numbed their perception of reality. My head spiraled, drifting back to the first day I’d asked to be Valentine’s assistant—the things Jordan had said to him, gloating about murdering his father and pregnant stepmother. If anyone had a reason to want to numb the pain, it was Valentine.

“Follow me,” he said, brushing past me.

Unease trickled through my veins. I wasn’t sure if I should leave or obey. He needed to go home and sleep this off, but that would require him to drive, and that was even more dangerous.

Sighing, I turned on my heels and vacated the office. He was already halfway across the church, leaving me to trail behind him with uncertainty. Suddenly, I felt like a horrible person for asking him for extra time. This was his free time. He had every right to get drunk if he wanted to.

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