Page 49 of Hysteria Rises
Malakai scrubs a hand over his face. “One of the Collective,” he mouths, his voice less than a whisper. “Not sure which. Or if it’s communal. It was hidden in the back of a cabinet in the gathering room.”
Hayze lets out a sharp breath, giving the bottle another once-over. “You all took quite a chance to get this.” Shifting his attention to Malakai, he tilts his head to the side. “Why?”
There’s a moment or two while Mal seems to consider his answer. His voice is rough when he rasps, “Because he clearly needs it.”
Hayze exhales through his nose. “I fucking know that,” he snaps. “But I’m not used toyoubeing helpful in the slightest.” Their gazes connect, brilliant blue, questioning… and dark venom, seeking something that feels like acceptance. Hayze whispers, “I don’t know what’s up with you lately. But thank you.”
“You can assume it was purely a selfish move on my part, if it makes you fucking feel better,” Malakai bites out quietly before shrugging.
The tension between the two of them is rapidly escalating, but I can’t focus on it right now because Hayze is unscrewing the cap. I wait with bated breath, and then he hands the bottle to me. “Drink up.”
Clasping it in my hand, I brace myself for the pain that lifting the liquor to my lips will bring. The healing skin is so fucking angry with every movement I make, but I need my senses dulled. Then, maybe I can form a coherent thought. My body tenses against the fire racing over my skin, but I take a long swallow and welcome the liquid burn as it slides all the way down my throat and into my waiting stomach. I stare atCross and Malakai for a few moments before I raggedly whisper, “I don’t understand why the two of you decided it was a good idea to risk this but thank you.” Then, for what feels like a very long time, there’s not a single fucking word spoken while everyone watches me take one slug after another of the potent liquor. After a while, the sharpest edge of the pain lessens.
Maybe I’ll be able to sleep. Maybe not. I exhale steadily as Hayze takes the bottle from my hand. I move to lie back down on my stomach, but the pull of my broken skin over the muscles takes my breath away, despite the effects of the bourbon reducing the discomfort.
“Let us help you.” Hayze and Cross appear on either side of me in an instant, each of them gripping a bicep and easing me down to the mattress.
“He might need more,” Malakai grits out. “He’s a big guy.”
But that’s not it. I know it’s not. And I don’t know how to tell them what I’ve had to do for months on end, how I’ve been self-medicating.
“You’re definitely not getting drunk as fast as I would have thought.” Cross shoots me a perplexed look.
Malakai flops onto his back on his mattress, but raises a brow at me. His expression reads a very clearCome on, man.
My jaw tenses. Does he know? I close my eyes, then mumble the truth that I haven’t wanted anyone to beaware of. “I’m feeling it. And it’s helping… but I think over time I’ve built up a tolerance of sorts.”
Cross narrows his gaze on me. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been drinking the cider… a lot of it.” My teeth grind so hard while I wait for them to say something, I’m afraid they might crack and Nolan will have to pull them out like he did one of Dragan’s when it got infected.
“Shit,” Hayze murmurs, following up quickly with “Why?”
“I can’t sleep. Don’t want to,” I huff out.Please don’t ask.
“Way to be dramatic,” Malakai growls. “I noticed you getting up during the night. It was no secret. But … after your correction, I think it’s fair to say that’s not all you’ve been up to while the rest of us sleep.”
Heat hits my cheeks as a fresh wash of memories roll through my brain in alcohol-soaked glory. “I can’t help myself. She calls to me. Some nights I drank to take the edge off, but lately, I’ve used Twenty-three to keep my mind off things.” I bring my hand up, covering my face as a groan reverberates through my chest.
Cross shifts. “Well, don’t think I’m being a dick by pointing out the trouble she’s already caused you and the rest of us… We’d all be better off steering clear.”
It’s quiet in the room for several minutes, but I can tell no one is asleep. “I fuckin’ need her. Can’t explain it,” I mumble, able to tell now that the bourbon hasme in its grasp, and my words are coming out funny and kinda slurred. “I have to see her. I need?—”
“Look at me,” Hayze demands.
My head feels like it weighs twenty pounds, and as I turn it to face him, I wonder if it’ll fall off before morning.
Two of Hayze stare back at me. “Listen to me when I say this. No. It’s a bad idea.”
“He’s right,” Cross agrees, his tone way too emphatic for my liking. “You’d get caught. Or”—he pauses as the sounds of movement from across the room meet my ears—“someone would rat you out.”
Malakai snorts. “Yeah. No good. We’d be in this position all over again. And if you think the correction would be the same, I hate to tell you, I disagree. It’d be ten times worse.”
“Arrow.” Hayze squats at my side, lowering his voice for only me to hear. “What you’ve been doing, what you’re saying… it’s disaster waiting to happen. Do you understand that?” He stops to heave out a breath. “Or have you forgotten… what’s mine is yours. And what’s yoursismine. It’s the way of things. Wanting her for yourself will cause you nothing but pain.”
Despite his words of caution, in a drunken blur of thought, I make a promise to myself. I will find a way to see my siren, no matter what it costs me. I’ll just have to be more careful so that I don’t hurther.Noteveragain.
TWENTY-SIX
