“It hurts, Sam. I swear, I’m not usually this, ah…” She panted a little. “Not this wimpy, but it hurts.”
I squatted down beside her. “I know, sweetheart. The doctor is coming and he’ll have meds to make you feel better. Hendrick is sick too, so I’m going to say it was probably the food. Now I’m kind of glad I didn’t eat the dumplings.”
“Oh god, don't mention the dumplings...” She lurched toward the toilet bowl, and if there was anything left inside her, I couldn’t imagine how.
I held back her hair, worried but oddly not as disgusted as I would normally be.
Maybe there was some justification to Hendrick’s hypothesis after all.
Chapter 31
Aviva
I was dying. If I wasn’t dying, I wanted to. My whole body ached. I’d only just stopped shaking and I’d expelled every ounce of liquid inside me. However, if whatever the fuck this was didn’t kill me, the embarrassment just might.
I buried my face further in the pillow, groaning. Sampson had scooped me off the bathroom floor and held me in the shower as I washed off all the filth coating my body. Otto had held my hair as I prayed to the porcelain gods.
I’d vomited in Hendrick’s hat, and he’d actually watched me shit myself. I wanted to cry in self-pity. I’d have to go home, because there was no way I could look any of them in the eye ever again.
Yeah, I knew it wasn’t my fault. The doctor who’d come to visit had told me that it was either a gastrointestinal bacteria or food poisoning, but the outcome was basically the same.
I was miserable.
At least he’d given me a couple of shots, so I no longer had to throw up or shit every three minutes. Turns out that Hendrick had gotten it too, lending credence to the possibility it was food poisoning. Though if it was some kind of bug, he’d had his tongue in my mouth—and other places—only hours earlier, so who knew which one it was.
Didn’t matter really, because the advice was the same: fluids, rest, and ride it out. If it wasn't better in three days, go to the hospital. If I hadn’t peed in two days, go to the hospital. If I started to see Jesus, avoid the light, and you guessed it, go to the hospital.
There was a knock at the door, and I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep so I didn’t have to look any of them in the eye. I almost hoped I was contagious so I could justifiably keep them at arm's length.
“Viva?” Otto’s soft voice whispered into the darkened room, and I lay so still, I probably looked like a corpse. “Viva, I know you’re awake. Your breathing is too light.”
Fuck. “Knowing how I sound when I’m asleep is just creepy, you know.”
“Come on. I ran you a bath. It’ll make you feel better.”
Actually, that did sound nice.
“But first, you need to drink this,” he crooned, closer now, and I pulled back to see him holding out a bottle of what looked like watered-down Gatorade.
My stomach flipped, and I covered my head with the blanket. “I don’t want to puke again.”
“You won’t. Come on now, sit up.” He pulled back the blanket and manhandled me into a sitting position. I was dressed in one of Sampson’s shirts that he’d sacrificed to the gods of food poisoning.
Taking the offered bottle with arms that still shook, I drank it down slowly. Thankfully, it stayed where it was supposed to be. For now, at least.
“How’s Hendrick?”
“Whiny,” Otto grumbled. “You’re a much better patient.”
I kept sipping slowly, exhausted. “I’m sorry.”
He hugged me close, and I was fairly sure that despite my shower with Sampson yesterday, I still stank like sweat and other things I didn’t want to think about. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Absolutely nothing.” He scooped me out of the bed and set me on my feet. It was like walking on jello, but I managed. When I made it to the main bathroom, the tub was filled with an opaque liquid and rose petals.
I burst into tears.
“Shit, what’s wrong? Do you need to go back to the bedroom?”
I didn’t know how to tell him that being sick had just cracked my normally apathetic exterior. My emotions were running closer to the surface, and right now, I was overflowing with emotion for Otto.
“No, it's beautiful. Perfect. Sorry I’m being a crybaby,” I said, wiping my face on the sleeve of my shirt. “It’s just so nice.”
Otto reached out and pulled me into his arms, wrapping me in a hug that encompassed me completely. “You deserve nice things. I’m sorry if we haven’t shown you that over the last couple of weeks.”
Well, thanks for the extra miles I’m about to get out of my tear ducts, Otto. I just nuzzled into his body and let him hold me up for a while. He slipped his hands under the hem of the shirt, and pulled it up over my head.
It left me standing in a pair of Otto’s underwear. Yes. I’d even borrowed their underwear. Because have you accidentally pooped yourself in a lace thong? I had, and 100/10 did not recommend. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, tugging them down smoothly. Then he scooped me up and laid me in the bath.
I couldn’t help the sigh that left my lips. It was perfect. It smelled divine, but it felt even better. I let my eyes close as my body floated in the water and all the gross feelings washed from my skin.
There was a small step that ran around the edge of the bath, and Otto sat down on it. “Want me to wash your hair?”
I opened one eyelid and gave him a small smile. “I’m beginning to wonder if you have a fetish for bathing with your lovers.”
His crooked grin and dimples did something to my insides. They felt like they were in a tumble dryer, all warm and fuzzy. “Is that going to be a problem?”
I shook my head. Otto made me feel cared for, and I wasn’t sure a man had ever made me feel that way before. It was wonderful and terrifying in equal measures. I floated in the water as he washed my hair, which was lank and gross, and I had to resist the urge to purr.
“Sampson and Evan have the other bodyguards at the bookstore looking for Nemo’s book. They weren’t impressed, but honestly, it wasn’t like we were going anywhere with both you and Hendrick so sick.” He paused, his fingers still threading through my hair. “I was worried.”
I didn’t apologize again, because it wasn’t like I could have known those dumplings were bad and we both knew it. They’d tasted fine.
“Tell them I said thank you. I know this isn't what you guys signed up for. Any of you.”
Otto shrugged. “We didn’t really know what we were signing up for. Maybe Hendrick? But Sampson and I were just along for the ride.” He tipped my head back slightly, pouring water from a small cup over my hairline. “Mostly, it's been amazing. I don’t have any regrets.”
I chewed my lip, but didn’t say anything else. I just soaked up the peaceful silence, Otto not needing to fill the space the way that Hendrick did, or control the moment like Sampson. With Otto, I could just be me. Aviva. Fucked up, a little neurotic, but me. I don’t think he knew how much I really appreciated him.
After I’d thought about nothing but the warm water for thirty minutes, Otto helped me out of the bath, wrapping me in one of those fluffy, expensive hotel towels.
Someone—I was going to guess Sampson—had laid me out fresh clothes, including another pair of Otto’s boxers. I flushed, but Otto didn’t seem to care.
He kissed the top of my head and left me to dry off. “I’ll let you get dressed, and go and get you something to eat.”
I groaned but didn’t protest. I spent a moment brushing out and braiding my hair, and by the time I was done, I was exhausted. The door to my bedroom opened, and Hendrick shuffled in. He looked gray, but freshly showered. He was only in boxer shorts, and his whole body seemed smaller somehow.
“You look how I feel,” I teased, and he gave me half a smile. He climbed into my bed, snuggling under the covers, and grunted.
Well, guess we were snuggling then. I climbed in beside him, and he dragged me closer to his
body, so he was hugging my back to his chest like I was a teddy bear.
He inhaled deeply. “You smell pretty. And how the hell are you so soft?” he grumbled, stroking softly up and down my stomach.
“Vagina magic.”
He huffed a laugh. “I fucking believe it. Gotta have some magic, Viva. Nothing else explains it,” he mumbled.
I frowned. “Explains what?”
But he was already asleep. His body was warm, his arm over my waist a comforting heaviness. I fell asleep, wrapped in the encompassing presence that was Hendrick, before Otto even returned.
Chapter 32
Hendrick
Fuck, I could murder a hamburger right now. Probably not the time or the place to ask though. I was an asshole, but I could respect people who believed in something, even if I didn’t. Hell, I was almost envious. For my entire life, I hadn’t put my faith in anyone who wasn’t in this cab with me right now, and definitely not in some higher power.
Sampson might believe he was a god, but I was fairly sure he was still a man.
We were heading to the airport once again, on our way to Japan. Yokohama, to be exact. This asshole, Nemo, definitely thought he was some globe-hopping Verne wannabe. When the new security douches got back from that nightmare bookstore with a copy of Five Weeks in a Balloon, I’d wanted to throw it in the sparkling fucking hotel pool. I thought we’d be done.
It should’ve been impossible to find a single book in that store, because it was a mess. Viva had been too sick to look herself, and we could have just said ‘oh well, better luck next obsession.’ But no, Evan was a fucking perfectionist, and he wouldn’t let this crap rest. Like he’d made it his own personal mission.
Maybe he just wanted to go home to his wife or girlfriend or goldfish. Whatever the hell he had. He was a good-looking guy, I could admit that much. Not the kind of gem you’d pick from a jewelry store, but the kind of shiny stone you found on a nature trail, took home, and kept as a paperweight forever.
Maybe I should buy Viva some jewelry. Girls liked jewelry. Though not a ring—wouldn’t want her to get the wrong idea. Maybe a necklace. Maybe an opal.
“For fuck’s sake, Hendrick, stop thinking so loud,” Sampson grumbled from where he was napping beside me.
“You can’t hear me think, dickhead. Right, Otto?”
Otto laughed sheepishly. “Well, you kind of can. You grind your teeth and tap your fingers on your thigh. Sigh a lot.”
“You can hear your two brain cells crashing together like symbols,” Sampson added, and I reached over Aviva and punched him in the thigh. She gave a husky chuckle that made my dick hard, and I resisted the urge to pull her onto my lap.
I pouted and stared out my window, frowning until Viva laced her fingers with mine. She looked a lot better, and I never wanted to see her that sick ever again. Fuck, I never wanted to be that sick again, either. Though I hadn’t minded spooning with Aviva while we spent the last five days recuperating in bed. We’d all binge-watched a Henry Cavill series together, which had enough violence to keep Sampson entertained, and enough Cavill in leather to keep the rest of us riveted to the screen. Honestly, it had been the best five days I’d had in ages, and we didn’t even leave the room. It was all because of her.
Fuck, I didn’t deserve Aviva. She’d been right when we first met. I was an entitled asshole who ruined everything and everyone around him. I’d ruin her too. Hell, I’d wanted to ruin her.
I shook her hand free to scratch my chin, and then just let my hand fall back to my lap. I could feel her eyes on my face but pretended I couldn’t, continuing to stare out the window.
“We should go out in Yokohama. I haven’t hit a club since New York. I need booze and beats.” I felt Aviva stiffen against me, and the car was unnaturally silent. “Isn’t Firth still in Tokyo? Get him to come down and give us the grand tour of the place. Or at least of the nightlife.”
Sampson scoffed. “Dude, you just shit out things you ate when you were ten. You sure you want to go out drinking?”
“Fuck off, Sam. You know I do.”
I couldn’t see Otto’s face, but I knew the tenseness in his shoulders. He didn’t approve. He’d get over it. Aviva wouldn’t be hurt. She knew she was too good for us; that's why she was still chasing goddamn ghosts.
We pulled into the airport, and security hustled us straight to the terminal lounge. I needed more sleep, more food, more alcohol. More everything. No sooner had we sat down than an announcement came over that our flight was delayed by two hours. Dammit.
I headed straight to the bar, ordering a cognac, neat. It was an old man drink, but fuck it. It was smooth going down, so I could knock back four before I even felt it.
I should have known Otto would appear beside me like the Ghost of Boyfriends Past, Present and hopefully Future, if he didn’t get sick of my bullshit.
He grabbed my drink, taking it straight out of my hand and replacing it with my meds. “Water, please,” he told the bartender, who reappeared with a sealed bottle of water. Otto pushed it toward me. “Take them.”
I rolled my eyes but downed the pills. “Such a fucking nag, Otto.” I opened my mouth, proving they were gone, like we were back in the institution and not at an airport a whole world away.
He shook his head at me, handing me back my cognac. “You’ve been violently sick. Your meds haven’t been as effective as they’d normally be. Don’t fuck this up just because your brain is all out of sync. Don’t fuck it up for all of us.”
With that, he just walked away, not giving me the chance to argue. I would have argued that it wasn’t my bipolar that was fucking with me right now. No, it was reality, that dark fucking dominatrix. She was beating me with her studded paddle of truth.
Okay, even mentally I’d taken that metaphor too far.
I walked back to the small group of people who would be sad if I died. I liked to think Aviva would be sad, and even Evan might shed a tear. My father would rejoice, my mother would be too fucking stoned to notice, and life would go on.
Aviva rested her head on Sampson’s shoulder as he spoke to Otto about stock figures and MMA fighters, her eyelids heavy with sleep. Her full pink lips were slightly parted, like it took too much energy to keep them pursed.
Without even pausing his conversation, Sampson pulled her onto his lap, letting her lie against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t protest, just laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She was still recovering. She should have had another couple of days building her strength back up, but she’d wanted to go, wanted to find the next clue in the next city.
We were all so pussy-whipped that we’d caved. I don’t know why though. We’d fucked her less than a handful of times, but somehow, that was enough. I was quickly learning that was the real magic of Aviva.
They kept talking and I kept drinking until our flight was called. Viva kept casting me worried looks, which I ignored. I didn’t want to talk about my cursed brain right now, and I was kind of hoping that Otto was right and the meds would magically even me out. Otto deserved better too; they’d all be better off not being dragged under by my bullshit.
It was a long flight to Yokohama, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I was next to Sampson and not beside Otto or Aviva. Sampson gave me a worried glance. “You alright, man?”
I nodded. “Still a little green from the food poisoning, but nothing that killing my liver with sake won’t cure.”
He looked at me for a little longer, then shrugged and stuck his earbuds in his ears. That's what I loved about Sampson. He didn’t worry. He did what he could, supported when he had to, and the rest he just let go. He didn’t try and change me, didn’t expect anything from me except for me to be my usual, insane self.
The flight attendant poured me a champagne, and I followed Sampson’s lead, putting in my earbuds and closing my eyes. Maybe I’d fall asleep and dream of a world where I was a normal man, who went to work, loved his girlfriend, and was n
ot constantly stalked by the shadows of his very own demons.
Chapter 33
Otto
I watched Hendrick out of the corner of my eye, that heavy feeling in my chest one I knew all too well. If I was honest with myself, I’d known the crash was coming, but I’d kind of hoped I was wrong. Falsely hoped that this last stint at rehab had done some good. Which was naive of me because Hendrick didn’t need rehab—he needed regular therapy and chemical intervention. His giddy happiness was usually a precursor to his lows, though those usually came when he had too much downtime to think, or was adjusting to new meds.
On the other hand, I watched Aviva, who was far more perceptive than anyone gave her credit for. She knew something had shifted on the cab ride to Kolkata airport, but she didn’t know what, because she didn’t really know Hendrick. She only knew the confident, arrogant, playful Hendrick. She didn’t know the Jekyll to his Hyde. Didn’t know he was bipolar at all.
No one did, except those closest to him. Though I was fairly sure his father knew—it would have been in any number of psychiatrist reports. Didn’t stop the fucker from beating his son though, and causing his bipolar to double down with a side of PTSD. God, I hated that son of a bitch. I hoped that one day he’d get hit by a bus and rot in the pits of Hell where he belonged.
Yokohama was exactly as I remembered it, and as we pulled up in front of the hotel, Aviva was pressed tightly against the glass window of the cab. “Holy shit, it’s huge.”
We all looked at Hendrick, waiting for the inevitable dick joke, but he was staring at his phone with a glazed expression. My heart constricted in my chest, but I pasted on a smile for Aviva. “It’s not the fanciest hotel in Yokohama, but it's okay and has an amazing view of the Cosmo Clock wheel.”
She gave me a knowing look, but she didn’t protest. Maybe she was becoming more comfortable with us as well, learning that when we stayed in fancy hotels, it wasn’t because we were trying to impress her. It was legitimately because Hendrick and Sampson were whiny rich boys who didn’t sleep on anything less than thousand thread count sheets.
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