Page 8 of Petals of Blue: Part Two
Or maybe it's years and years of exhaustion catching up to me?
Pathetic.
I flinch, my neck protesting the quick movement.Who said that?My head swims, and vomit crawls up my throat in a fiery wave of nastiness.At least it's warm.
Fuck.Gross. So gross.
I bet it hasn't been more than a few days atmostyet here I am already appreciating the heat of my vomit.
Desperation jolts me forward with a gasp. I can't bethis. I can't turn into someone who just gives up. As easy as it would be to sink into the hunger pains and woozy headspace that I was accustomed to when I was a child, I have my kid to think about.
Guilt and self-hatred fuel my aching limbs as I crawl my way to the wooden door. How could I let myself lie there in a lazy, sad heap when Violet is probably scared out of her mind?
Flashes of her laughing with the men I've come tocare about try to stop my pursuit of freedom.What if they would all be happier without me? Violet has so many people to look out for her now, what does she need me for?
A ball of emotion lodges itself in my throat, and I hang my head. I've got to stop the pity party. There are people counting on me. Hell, I've already let everyone down by allowing myself to be stuck in here.
Reaching to push on the door, I flinch and hiss as sharp pains shoot through my skull. There isn't a handle or even a lock in here—which should be against code if this were on a business property.
I swear if the door was unlocked this whole time. It doesn't budge. I push again and again, even shoving my shoulder against it for good measure, but it doesn't crack a centimeter.
I'm well and truly trapped. Unless...
Glancing around the space, I see nothing but a few pots of dead plants, piles of dirt, and a ridiculous amount of grass seed.Where the hell am I?Doesn't matter.
With a big breath of musty air, I crawl toward the closest pot. My hands protest each drag along the floorboards, but I continue. Not without whispered curse words of course.
This fucking sucks. I grab the dirty ceramic.
"Motherfucking son of a—” Using all my energy, I throw the thing at the door. My heart sinks to my stomach, weighing me down so much that I collapse.
The door barely fucking twitched.
At least I'm still twitching.
As much as I hate myself for the heaviness of my eyelids, I'm incapable of fighting for consciousness. Maybe next time I wake up, I'll have a bit more strength.
Six
JARED
There's something about two other men in my woman's apartment that absolutely annihilates any semblance of calm. For me at least.Roman can eat a bag of dicks.It's been eighteen hours, and still, Rome's acting like he's fine.
I'm pissed and completely irrational. I've skipped right past the denial stage and dove headfirst into rage. At least that's what Bethany told me over lunch."There are a few stages of grief, Jared,"she murmured."You and Felix being in the anger stage together isn't going to go over well."
I brushed her off, and Janine pulled her friend away. All traces of the fun-loving Jared disappeared right along with the love of my life. If I thought I was a shell of myself when we abandoned her as kids, I don't even want to think about who I am now.
Obviously, two raging dickheads without their woman to smooth them out isn'tgoing to go over well.Declan'shad to keep us from ripping each other's throats out, for fuck’s sake.
My best friend should be raging right along with me, yet he's completely withdrawn and all up in his feels.Depressionis the stage of grief Bethany said Declan is in.
At that point, I had snapped a little. Lunch was barely squeezing down my throat with all the fire I've been spitting. I was hungry, nauseous, scared, and so angry.
I was angry about how Bethany was basically holding up a mirror to our fucking faces and telling us what was wrong.I know what's wrong! Blue is missing!I wanted to scream.
Instead, I swung my arm in Roman's direction and demanded she rip him a new asshole with all of her useless knowledge."What fucking stage ishein then if we're all doing everything wrong?"
It wasn't until after the poor girl went white as a sheet and muttered"acceptance"that I realized how horrible I was being. Of course, she was also struggling, and this washerway of coping.
