Page 63 of Too Late

He throws up two more times and then finally, after a few minutes of calm, he opens his eyes. When he looks up at me, the terrifying look in his eyes from earlier is gone, replaced with a childlike innocence. “Thank you, baby,” he mutters.

I place the trash can back on the floor and then put my hand on the side of his head. “Asa, I need you to try and stand up. I need to take the comforter off the bed.”

He rolls over, away from the vomit, and pulls a pillow to his chest, falling back to sleep almost immediately.

“Asa.” I shake him, but he’s out again.

I stand up and look around the room, trying to figure out how I’m going to do this without having to go downstairs and ask for help.

There’s no way I can do this by myself, and I’m not about to sleep downstairs on the couch. Not with Jon here. I’m praying Dalton or Carter are still here, because letting Jon or Kevin know that Asa is out cold will not be doing me any favors when it comes to my safety.

To my relief, Carter and Dalton are standing at the door preparing to leave when I make it downstairs. Carter stands alert when he sees me.

“I need someone to help me lift Asa so I can change my comforter. He threw up everywhere.”

Jon mutters, “Good luck with that,” from the couch.

Carter glares in Jon’s direction and then immediately starts to head to the stairs. I can see the disapproval in Dalton’s eyes, but he begins to follow Carter as well.

When we all make it up to the bedroom, the stench is so bad, I’m forced to cover my nose to keep from gagging.

“Holy shit,” Dalton mutters. He walks straight to a window and opens it. We all look down at Asa and I’m a little embarrassed for him that he’s naked. But knowing Asa, he wouldn’t care. And even if he did, it’s no one’s fault but his own that he’s in this position.

Carter reaches down and tries to shake him awake. “Asa. Wake up.”

Asa groans, but still doesn’t wake up.

“What the hell did he take?” Carter asks, turning toward Dalton.

Dalton shrugs. “Hell if I know. I saw him chew a few pills on the way to the casino. Heroin on the way home.”

Carter doesn’t even hesitate when he leans forward and hooks Asa under the arms. He lifts him up and then stands, pulling Asa away from the bed.

I immediately gather the comforter and wad it up. I’m not even going to attempt to wash this one. I set it in the hallway and then change the sheets, just to be safe.

“Which side does he sleep on?” Carter asks, still holding him up beneath his arms. I point to Asa’s side of the bed and Carter drags him over there. Dalton helps lift him back onto the bed and I pull another blanket out of the closet and cover him with it.

When I’m tucking it around him, Asa opens his eyes and looks up at me. He runs a hand over his face, wincing. “What’s that smell?” he grumbles.

“You threw up on the bed.”

He grimaces. “Did you clean it up?”

I nod and whisper, “Yeah. I changed the sheets. Go back to sleep.”

He doesn’t close his eyes. Instead, he lifts his hand and tugs at a strand of my hair. “You take such good care of me, Sloan.”

I stare at him for a second—at this vulnerable version of him. And somehow, even with Carter standing in the room with me, I feel for him.

I can’tnotfeel for him.

Asa isn’t the way he is because hechoosesto be. I feel like he is who he is because he was never shown how to be anything different.

For that, he’ll always have my sympathy. He’ll never have my heart, and he’ll likely never even have my forgiveness.

But I can’t help but give him my sympathy.

I start to stand up, but he reaches out and grabs my wrist, pulling me back down. I lower myself to my knees beside the bed and Asa wraps his hand over mine. His eyes are closed when he whispers, “One time, when I was five … I threw up on my bed. My father made me sleep in it. Said it’d teach me not to do it again.” He releases a small laugh, but then his eyes squeeze together even tighter. “Guess the bastard was wrong about that, too,” he mutters.

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