Page 61 of Salvaged Heart
His blunt fingernails dug into my sides through the soft cotton of my shirt, and we just held each other as close as two people could, allowing our deep breaths in and out to ground the worry and hurt that was swirling between us. It took me a few minutes to realize he was shaking, letting out what felt likeheavy, tearless sobs. He suddenly felt all off balance in my arms, and I pulled back to try to get a read on his face, but he was expressionless. Eyes looking right through me.
“I got you, baby. Tell me what you need.” I brushed my lips over his hairline in a ghost of a kiss. “I’ll do anything for you.”
His hand left its death grip on my side and moved up to rest on my cheek, the pad of his thumb ghosting over the corner of my lips. “I wish we had more time, “ he whispered. “I’m so sorry I let you down.”
“Let me down? Anders?” He wasn’t making any sense.
“I said I would always be there for you, and when you needed me most…” his voice trailed off as he dropped the hand on my face down to his side. My brain registered the flash of orange clutched in his palm as he brought it down. “I think…I think I will be with you soon.”
“Anders, I’m right here.”
“I think…I think…I think…” Each word was more exhaled than spoken.
“You’re scaring me.”
He went to move away again, but I grabbed for his hand. He yanked it back from me, bringing the object he still held grasped to his chest like he was trying to keep me from taking whatever it was. My eyes caught on it. Almost as if sensing my sudden shift in attention, his hand opened, allowing the small orange container to drop to the floor. It fell with a tinny thud and rolled away under the bed just as it had done the last time I’d seen it. This time, the rattle of the pills inside was notably absent.
I stepped closer, touching his face, pressing my forehead into his, and taking a long gulp of air. His skin was so cold, yet clammy under my palms. “Where did you find them?” I whispered. It was a stupid question. I knew exactly where.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t move. He just kept looking at me with that haunted expression.
“How many did you take?”
His breaths were coming out slowly now, as if each required more energy than he had.
“How many, Anders?”
“I just wanted to see you again.”
“I was coming back…”
“Why did you leave me?” His tone was frantic now. Accusing almost. “You knew I wasn’t strong enough to live without you.”
“Anders, you’re so strong, but you must know I will always come back for you. What we have, I can’t describe it, but…” he swayed on his feet again, but I powered on. He needed to know how I felt about him. That I wouldn’t abandon him. “Fuck, Anders, I’m in love with you.”
“I know…” He whispered. “I know, I know, I know.” Did he know? I hoped more than anything he did. I should have told him daily since I’d figured it out myself. I shouldn’t have let myself be scared by it.
He rocked back, more violently this time. His eyes became hazy before they rolled in his head, and his body weight sagged into my arms. It took me a second to realize he was no longer conscious. “Shit.” I backed him up and lowered him onto the bed, reaching for my phone only to find it was no longer in my pocket. “Anders. Wake up.” I shook his shoulder, at first lightly, then slightly more desperately. “Anders. Please. Please, open your eyes.” I needed to run downstairs and get it so I could call an ambulance, but I couldn’t leave him until I knew he was conscious. I was paralyzed by the fear that if I left him right now, even if it was just for a minute, I’d lose him forever.
Finally, his closed lids flickered a little. “Jonah.” He gasped.
It shouldn’t have hurt as badly as it did. “Anders, it’s me, Beck. You’re going to be okay…you’re going…”
“Jonah,” He whispered again. “I love you.”
It felt like my heart had been grabbed out of my chest. This whole time, I thought he'd been talking to me, begging me to stay, telling me he wanted more time with me, but he had been talking to a ghost instead. A ghost that, at this moment, I would go to the depths of hell to eradicate from Anders’ memory. I hated Jonah. I hated that he'd done this to Anders. Hated that he’d pulled him into this darkness and left him to crawl out of it alone. I wouldn’t let Anders suffer the same fate Jonah had. I wouldn’t hold him as he died. I would fight for his life, and we would come out victorious. Then, I would make sure Anders got the help he needed. I would be by his side for all of it.
I took a deep, grounding breath, allowing myself just a moment to recenter my thoughts and focus on all the research I had done shortly after I found out about Anders’ addiction. Anders had been a child when he watched Jonah die. He was unprepared, alone, and lost. He would never be any of those things again.
Laurel’s footsteps sounded in the hall, and half a moment later, she appeared in the doorway. “Hey…” Her eyes widened as she took in Anders, motionless on the bed beside me.
“Give me your phone.”
“What is it? What happened?”
“I found him like this. I think he overdosed.” She opened her mouth to speak, but I powered on. “Look, we don’t have much time. I need you to give me your phone, then run upstairs. In the inside pocket of my duffle, there are two little white bottles in blister packaging. I need you to bring them to me as quickly as possible.”
She nodded before turning on her heels and bolting from the room. I took one last deep breath and brought the phone to my ear.
