by I. A. Dice
A scoff left my lips. I gulped half of the vodka as if it were water.
“I did a fucking one-eighty! Nothing mattered more than her, but even if I walked on fucking water, it wouldn’t be good enough for you!” I banged my hands on the table, making Nick shudder. “You didn’t want her to be with me, and you let her go to him. You were shoving him down her throat from the start!”
I expected a lot: more yelling, reproach, even an apology, but what happened was a bit too much.
Nick’s eyes filled with tears. Real, manly tears, although there was nothing manly about tears. He clenched his jaw, wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, squeezing the bridge of his nose.
“You’re right,” he admitted in a tone of a defenceless man. “I didn’t want her to be with you—not at first. You weren’t a guy any brother would want for his sister. Besides, I hoped she could work things out with Adrian. I saw them together, Thomas. Adrian loves her more than I love Mel. He would go above and beyond to make her happy.”
And I wouldn’t?
Nick lacked faith in me. He had no reason to trust me with Nadia at first, but there was no denying it—I changed when she came along.
“Then, I saw Nadia with you,” Nick continued, looking straight at me. “She dated Adrian for a year and a half, and while he tried to make her happy, you did, and it only took you a few weeks.”
He got up to refill our glasses. At this rate Amelia was going to find us unconscious. I rubbed my face, focusing on the crystal glass.
The way we see things depends on our state of mind. I used to think I was born a pessimist, a glass-half-empty type of guy. It changed when Nadia’s presence pushed me to re-evaluate my choices. The man she shaped me into filled me with pride. For the first time in years, I looked forward to the next day. My life was no longer slipping through my fingers.
I took handfuls of every moment when we were together, but deep inside, I feared the happiness wouldn’t last, that the bubble would burst at any moment and I would crash with reality.
I pushed the dark thoughts aside, because Nadia changed me into an optimist. The glass became half-full.
I should have gone back to a pessimist’s mindset when she left, right?
I wish. She left, and I no longer knew who I was.
“I tried to stop her, Thomas,” Nick said, his voice weak, teary. “But I know what Adrian helped her through. Nadia fell apart when our father died. She couldn’t even look at me because I reminded her of Dad too much. She left to escape the grief and me. After a few months with Adrian, Nadia asked me to come over.”
Nick was grateful to the son-of-a-bitch, and I could see why. He loved Nadia so much, and I couldn’t imagine how crushed he was when he realised she couldn’t look at him.
“She wouldn’t stay no matter what I said or did,” Nick continued. “Adrian helped her get to the other side of grief, and Naida feels like she owes him help.”
“Old love never dies, huh?” I spat out, shoving more alcohol to the back of my throat. “I never stood a chance.”
Nick shook his head, his expression determined. “It has nothing to do with love. Half the time I think she’s uncomfortable when Adrian’s around. She didn’t go back to be with him. She went to save him.”
Nadia was the one who needed saving, but she refused to act selfish. Many considered selfishness a flaw, but when Nadia gave into me, it proved to be an advantage for the both of us.
Too bad she didn’t last long in the resolution of saving herself first before attempting to save the world.
The sound of an incoming face-time call chimed from the open laptop that stood on the coffee table. Nadia’s face appeared on the screen. My stomach somersaulted backward.
“Sorry,” Nick muttered. “I’ll tell her to call tomorrow.”
My palms grew damp, the need to see her hit me like a heat wave.
“No, answer it. Just don’t tell her I’m here.”
I scooted away, far enough to make sure the camera couldn’t see me, and watched the screen, completely unprepared for what was to come.
“Hey,” Nadia said, her voice weak.
I sucked in a harsh breath, scanning her thin face, protruding cheekbones and chapped lips. She must have lost at least eight pounds. A black, thick jumper hugged her frame, highlighting the pale skin and red, puffy eyes that lacked their natural glow.
“Hey, what’s wrong, sis?” Nick squeezed his neck to get rid of tension. “Why were you crying?”
“I wasn’t.” She rubbed her cheek on her shoulder.
“Don’t lie. What happened? Where’s Adrian? Did you fight?”
“No. Everything is fine. Adrian’s at the NA meeting. He should be back soon.” She glanced above the laptop, shook her head no, turning her attention back to the camera. “How was your trip?”
“You sure?” A male voice sounded in the background. “Come on, keep me company here. It’s good. Best I cooked to date. You can’t live on pop-tarts, you know.”
That explained why she lost so much weight. I had the urge to fly over there and force-feed her until she gained back what she lost.
“I’m sure, Ty. We’re all out of pop-tarts, anyway.”
Ty appeared in view seconds later, a pop-tart in hand. “Adrian went out earlier to get some.” He glanced at the screen. A scowl replaced the smile on his face. “Hey, man, good job keeping her away from this hell hole. Whatever happens next is on your head.”
Nick parted his lips, but no sounds came out.
“There was nothing he could’ve done to stop me from coming over,” Nadia said, sounding tired. “Don’t be an ass. It’s hard enough without your attitude.”
“Hard?” Ty scoffed, his jaw working. “Jigsaws are hard, girl. This is…” he shook his head. “Whatever. Just be glad I’m keeping this shit to myself, okay? If Adrian fucks up again, you’re going home.”
“Sorry,” Nadia said when Ty walked away. “He’s had a bad day. Adrian tried to convince him to let us move to his apartment.”
“Over my dead body!” Ty yelled, then doors slammed.
“The more I hear, the more I want you to come back.” Nick leaned forward, closer to the screen. “Please, come home. Adrian can deal with his problems alone. He’s not a child.”
Nadia shook her head, running her fingers through the long, brown hair to pull them into a messy bun on the top of her head.
“You didn’t answer my question. How was the trip?”
We cringed at the blatant change of subject. It was almost as if she were on autopilot, dodging the unwanted questions with ease.
“It was fine,” Nick sighed, defeated. “Mel brought back more handmade cosmetics than she could carry. I think she’ll be sending a parcel out to you next week. Do you need anything? Food, maybe? You’re getting thinner by the day.”
“You can’t mail pills,” she muttered, “so no, thank you.”
“What pills do you need, puppet? My psychiatrist can write you a prescription.”
It wasn’t difficult to pin-point a name to the tall, muscular guy who appeared in the doorway behind Nadia’s back like an oversized shadow. Adrian wore an oversized fraternity hoodie and stared at Nadia’s head with a disturbed, remorseful look.
I wasn’t sure if it was fury, sadness or tiredness that twisted my stomach. Adrian couldn’t have been far off seven feet tall; built like a grizzly bear, but it didn’t mean shit. He looked like something inside him died a tragic death and could never be resurrected.
Uncertainty radiated from Nadia, pushing me to the edge of my seat. I waited for one foul move on Adrian’s part. I was practically begging him to do something, anything that would justify me boarding the next plane to New York. It wouldn’t take much for me to snap, but he didn’t do anything wrong. He just watched Nadia’s every move. The aura of insecurity surrounding Adrian was surreal. A guy with his apparition should not feel insecure. But there he was, looking anxious, second-guessing his next move.
Nadia glanced ove
r her shoulder, tensing. Her attitude changed in an instant, moves became more cautious, the tone of her voice calmer.
“Sleeping pills would be nice, thank you. I think Ty is so grumpy because I wake him up every night. Come on,” she waved Adrian over.
The muscles on my neck tensed because the look on her face matched the one that she wore when Scorpio hugged her at the welcome home party when she came back to London. She was anxious back then, and she was anxious right now. On the outside, she acted composed, but I had no doubt that inside she was screaming.
“Say hi,” she told Adrian.
He pushed away from the door frame and came closer. Before he said anything, he leaned over Nadia to kiss the crown of her head. The moment his lips touched her hair, the glass in my hand exploded. My body shook like that of an alcoholic about to drink the first shot in years.
It was just a kiss; just a peck, but those weren’t my lips, and I couldn’t fucking breathe.
“Fuck,” Nick hissed. “Nadia, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
He shut the laptop and jumped to his feet, fretting at the sight of blood. Pain didn’t register in my brain. Not the physical one, at least.
“Fuck,” he repeated. “This is bad.”
He took the broken shards out of my skin and brought a wet rag from the kitchen to put pressure on the wounds.
“I think you need stitches.”
“I need a drink.” I wrapped the rag around my hand. It turned crimson before my mind stopped replaying Adrian’s lips on my girl’s head. “She flinched,” I muttered. “She flinched when he came closer. She never did that with me.” I took a large swing of vodka. “Why the hell are they living with Ty?”
“Nadia said he only agreed to let her stay in New York if she and Adrian moved in with him. I guess he doesn’t trust Adrian not to relapse.” He grabbed the keys to his car, gesturing for me to move. “You’re not bleeding out on my sofa, mate. Come on. I’ll take you to the emergency room.”
CHAPTER 3
NADIA
Courage
Tears woke me up, accompanied by a loud, painful sob coming from deep within my chest. I hugged my knees, placed my hands on my ribcage the way Thomas taught me and dived into my head.
His lips on my skin, the sound of his voice, the smell of his cologne, the way my body relaxed under his touch.
Disappointment on his handsome face tore me out of sleep night after night since I landed in New York. I left him against my will and against better judgement. The decision broke me in ways I hadn’t been broken before. I considered myself stronger, but leaving Thomas to help Adrian was worse than leaving Adrian alone with his issues.
The door to my bedroom burst open before I had time to jump out of bed to find Thomas’s t-shirt in the closet. I stole it and brought it with me to New York. At first, I wore it to bed. The scent of his body and cologne soothed my senses enough to let me sleep, but as the days went by, the scent faded, throwing me into a state of insomnia.
It wasn’t until two weeks after I arrived in New York that I thought of buying a bottle of the same cologne Thomas used. I sprayed the t-shirt and held it close whenever I needed consolation.
Adrian took almost the entire width of the frame, dressed in nothing but his boxer-shorts. He leaped forward, resting one knee on the bed and cupped my face.
“You’re okay, puppet,” he uttered, a mixture of fear, shame and helplessness in his voice. “You’re fine; you’re safe.”
The overhead light flipped on, making me cringe. Ty stood in the doorway, his eyes on me, chest heaving. I could imagine what his first thought was when he heard my choked back sobs.
Ty spent the last three weeks watching Adrian. He skipped classes, took time off work and made sure Adrian had no reason to be alone with me for more than a few minutes at a time.
When I landed at the JFK airport, he waited for me, and he wasn’t there to take me to Adrian.
“Don’t do this,” Ty said instead of hello. “Go back home, Nadia.”
He wore shorts and a baggy t-shirt, looking as if he hadn’t slept for days. I wrapped my hands around his neck and pressed my forehead to his chest. During the months of abuse, Ty was the only person whose touch didn’t send me into a frenzy. At least not at first. The more bruises covered my body, the harder it was to let him in, but once he managed to get close, I allowed him stay. My instincts pushed me to run, but I knew that Ty wouldn’t hurt me, and I fought to stay connected to someone, to not let the fear shut me out completely.
“I can’t go back home. He needs me,” I moved away, brushing my hair away from my face. “How is he?”
“He’s fine. There’s no need for you to be here, girl. You shouldn’t be here. If he can’t get up by himself, then he should stay down.”
I gave him the luggage, walking outside for a cigarette. Ty followed, dragging the suitcase behind him, not done condoning my choices. We argued for a while longer, but his arguments hit a wall.
“I’m not going home no matter what you say; so please, spare me the lecture. Where is Adrian?”
“Fine,” Ty huffed, “but you’re staying with me. You don’t go out with him alone, and you put my number on speed-dial right now. If anything happens, and I mean anything, you call me straight away. If he has a drink, yells, gets too close or fucking looks at you wrong, you call me. Understood?”
Ty was an extraordinary person. The kind of friend anyone would be proud to have. Not one of Adrian’s friends stayed in touch when he started the downward spiral, but Ty stood by his side for a long time. He did leave, but he came back and was ready to rearrange his life to keep me safe and help Adrian stay clean.
“You good, girl?” Ty asked, his eyes darting from me to the back of Adrian’s head.
I nodded, moving away from Adrian, so Ty could see me better.
“I’m sorry I woke you. Bad dream.”
“I wasn’t sleeping.” He pointed to Adrian as if asking whether to steer him out of the room.
In moments like this I regretted not telling Nick what Adrian’s addiction did to me. To us. Ty was my New York older brother, but the burden of worrying shouldn’t rest on his shoulders. Although if it wasn’t for Ty, no one would be making sure I was safe.
Nick created an illusion of a strong person. He acted tougher since he met Thomas and tried to be more like him, but he couldn’t fool me. There was a part of his character, the one responsible for his success, that had others convinced that Nick was a leader. He wasn’t. Nick was soft; delicate, even. He was caring, supportive and useless when the situation required him to step-up.
Not all men are alphas. Most are just ordinary husband types who protect their families no matter what but rely on support and guidance from their partners.
Every man is the man of the house, the head of the family, if you will. It’s just that in most homes, a woman is the neck that moves the head. Nick would be lost without Amelia. She nurtured his confidence to the point where he felt almost equal with Thomas, but there was a vital difference between the two.
Thomas didn’t need a neck. He didn’t need guidance. He knew what to do, what to say and how to act.
If both entered the room after hearing me cry, their reactions would be very different. Nick would ask what was wrong, he would try to console me and find the reason behind my tears.
Thomas would let me feed off his strength. He would pull me to his side, wrap his hands around me and wait until I calmed down.
“I’m okay.” I offered Ty a small smile.
He lingered in the doorway for a moment longer, then turned around, put the lights out and retreated to his bedroom across the hall.
Adrian looked into my eyes, the despair in his clearer than the sky above an ocean. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I knew he could hurt me. It wouldn’t take much for his resolve to snap, but the torment in his dark eyes had me believing that the worst was over.
It had to be over. He had to get better, or else I lost Thomas in vain.
<
br /> “I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered. “I know you’re scared that I’ll start using again, but I’d rather die than do anything to jeopardise the little trust you put in me. I won’t fuck this up, puppet. I swear.”
We avoided the subject like the plague. It wasn’t a reasonable way to go about his addiction, but neither of us wanted to open the wounds. We were ashamed and scared and chose to omit the reason why I ran away in the first place.
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t believe you could stay clean.”
He drew me to his chest, buried his face in my hair, and exhaled, relieved to have me close.
“I love you so much, puppet.”
The scent of his body reminded me of the times we spent together. The nights and days; love and hate; fights, bruises, pain; and the calmness, passion, and admiration. It was a dangerous mixture. Adrian was like all four elements put together. He was powerful and cruel, but when we were good, he adored me and made sure to show me how much he cared.
Now, he was adoring me again, and I hoped it would stay that way until he could be well enough to understand that my place was no longer by his side.
He inched away and pressed his lips to mine for the first time in months. It was just a peck, short and delicate as if I were a bubble, and he was afraid to crush me, but the simple peck brought back the memories of all kisses we shared. A sense of familiarity washed over me, blurring the negatives and amplifying the positives.
“You’re my everything,” he whispered. “I’ll prove to you how much I changed. I don’t know how, but I will. Losing you was my wake-up call, puppet. I have nothing without you.”
His every move, tone of his voice and the words alone were designed to strip off my armour. Brick by brick, he took the walls apart.
“I would rather open a vein right here, right now than hurt you. I just need a chance to win you back. One shot, puppet. The last one.”
He pressed his lips against mine again, slowly, giving me time to react, retreat or push him away, but the softness of his lips worked like a magnet. I kissed him back, even though it was for all the wrong reasons.
