by Maegan Abel
“Maybe nothing. At this point, I have no idea.”
Chapter Thirty
Giving In
Lili
I stared at my phone, not caring that the screen was blank. It didn’t matter. This week had easily been one the longest of my life and it wasn’t even over yet. I wanted it to be. But, what made next week any better?
The text message from Zane yesterday was yet another shot at me. This time he was using armor piercing bullets. I knew once he read the results, I’d have to see him again. But, now it seemed I wouldn’t. I closed my eyes, relaxing my head against the back of the bathtub, but it didn’t do any good. His message was etched on the backs of my eyelids.
I’ll be there for the baby. Just let me
know dates for appts.
That was it. No apology, no we should talk about this, no anything. He would just be there for his child. I never had any doubt that he would. But he didn’t want this baby and that was clear.
I think that hurt more than anything.
When Lizzie was pregnant, he cared. He worried about her and the baby. I saw it. I watched him struggle. I stayed by his side. Opening my eyes, I sat up, the water sloshing around me as understanding dawned.
He’d wanted her. He’d wanted her but he didn’t know how to leave me. I grabbed the towel off the lid of the toilet, drying my hands and wrapping it around my body as I snatched my phone from the counter.
For the first time since I returned, I wasn’t angry. All I could feel was the pain I’d been suppressing.
Don’t worry. I won’t be
asking you for anything.
It flooded me, filling me to the brim as I fought against the emptiness. Or maybe I was fighting for it. I was so confused. The hollow anger had been so much easier to handle than the despair and loneliness. And I had no one left to turn to. A voice inside me, one I regularly tried to ignore, whispered I was the reason I was alone. I’d turned into a miserable person and no one wanted to be around me because of it. I’d turned into someone else entirely and I’d pushed them all away.
The voice was right.
I’d done nothing since coming home but lash out at everyone. Rather than reaching out to those who wanted to help me, I hid behind anger and did everything I could to keep my fears from them. And now what? What good had that done me? It landed me right here, sitting on the edge of a bathtub, fighting tears.
The box knife I’d stashed in the back of one of the bathroom drawers was like a beacon. I’d talked myself out of doing anything before, convinced myself things weren’t as bad as they seemed.
But they were. Things were as bad as they seemed. I’d succeeded in pushing them away because none of them cared enough to fight for me when I needed them to. They’d discarded me, the “out of sight, out of mind” mentality. Hell, they’d practically forgotten about me while I was gone. Zane certainly had, deciding the best way to get over possibly losing me was to get drunk with the person I shared DNA with and trying to have sex with her. Life had moved on for them and as angry as I was about that, I also couldn’t blame them. I was gone for a long time and it was selfish to think they’d just sat around waiting for me to call or come back. The thought of me was probably painful for them, the same way thoughts of them were painful for me.
But, in the end, I didn’t have it in me to fight for them either.
The only other thing I didn’t have in me was being cruel enough to make them clean up the mess.
That didn’t detract me, it just made me adjust and plan. And that was okay. Planning was good. As I decided how and where to go, how to get far enough away, I slipped on the yoga pants and oversized sweater, which had become my basic wardrobe these days. My hair was still dripping down my back so I tied it up, knotting it in a bun on top of my head. I didn’t want to waste time drying it. I wanted an escape from the pain and I was finally so close.
Slipping the blade free of the case, I stuck it in the wrist of my sweater. The metal felt cool against my skin and I smiled for what felt like the first time since I came to stay with Nikki.
Walking out of the bathroom, I heard the TV in the living room. Paige appeared before I could decide how to get out of the apartment without her asking questions.
“About time. Damn. I’ve needed to pee for the last half hour,” she said, her voice playful as she passed me, heading into the now vacated bathroom. I smiled wider at my open shot at the front door.
“My bad,” I said, hearing the perkiness in my own voice but unable to feel anything other than eager about finally being rid of the pain.
Halfway across the living room, I heard the bathroom door fling open and glanced back. Paige tilted her head, seeming suspicious. As she moved closer, I noticed what was in her hand.
“What’s this?” she asked, lifting the empty box cutter up for my appraisal. The smile fell from my face and she raised an eyebrow, clearly assessing the change in my mood.
“Looks like a box knife,” I said casually, clenching my hands into fists in a pathetic attempt to hide the trembling beginning in my arms. I was so close. I could bolt for the door and probably make it out before she caught me. But that would make her even more suspicious. I needed to play it cool.
“Uh huh. I see that. What was it doing in the bathroom?”
I shrugged one shoulder, shooting for casual but most likely missing the mark completely. “No idea.”
“Right. And I’m sure you’ve got no idea where the blade is either,” Paige said, dropping the cutter to the coffee table with a clatter that made me jump. It was a guilty sort of move, one I couldn’t quite hide.
“No idea,” I repeated, stepping backward toward the door. Bolting may have been my only option.
“Where are you headed?” she asked, glancing between me and the door like she knew. Fuck. The realization that I might have to wait to get out until later made my stomach roll.
“The water in my bath was hot. I figured I’d step outside to cool off,” I lied. It wasn’t nearly as smooth as I knew I was capable of, but I was completely off kilter trying to explain myself to her.
“You’re wearing a sweater,” she said, still pushing.
“Well, I know it’ll be cold outside,” I responded, which was the truth.
“Uh huh,” she said again, clearly unconvinced. “Where’s the blade, Lili?”
I widened my eyes, attempting shock this time. “What are you talking about?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re talking to a girl who spent most of her life as a cutter. Where the fuck is the blade?”
Her revelation floored me but she stepped forward, throwing me off my train of thought before I could come up with a reply. “I don’t have it.” My fingers tightened around the cuff of my right sleeve as if it would fall out and prove me wrong. Her eyes honed directly in on the movement.
“Look, you can give it to me now and let me get you help, or I can call Tish and make him come over and help me.” Her threat weakened me further and I stepped backwards again, glancing over my shoulder at the door in desperation. “Don’t even think about leaving. You won’t get far. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“Paige,” I choked, feeling the start of a panic attack, which, while totally understandable, would not help me right now.
“No. Don’t even try it. I can see it, I can see right through you. You’ve been completely withdrawn, have barely spoken since you got here, and you came out of the bathroom smil—”
“You don’t understand,” I pleaded, taking another step toward the door. I was so close.
“I understand completely.” She pulled out her phone.
“He’ll never get here in time.” I turned, bolting for the door, only to be hit hard from behind. Paige’s arms wrapped around my shoulders as she locked her wrists in front of me, her phone clattering against the small tiled area right inside the door.
“Stop. Fighting,” she hissed, pulling me back away from the door as I flailed and screamed in her grasp. “Tish! I need you here
! NOW!” Paige’s scream made my ears ring as she yelled in the direction of the muffled voice coming from the floor. I couldn’t hear his reply through my sob.
“NO!” I cried, feeling my chance slipping away as I continued to fight.
“Calm down.”
“Let me go!”
“Calm down.”
“PAIGE! LET ME GO!” I screamed, throwing my weight forward in an attempt to break the weak point in her grasp. My fingers pried clumsily at her hands and when she released her grip long enough to make a swipe for the wrist where I could still feel the blade resting, I spun away.
I hit the door in my attempt to free myself and she regained her hold, yanking me backwards again as I kicked. My foot connected multiple times with her but her hands didn’t release me.
Throwing my head back, I barely felt it as my skull connected with hers. “Fuck!” she screeched, her grip faltering just enough for me to break free. I bolted back toward the door, but she caught me, taking me to the floor as our feet tangled and we landed in a heap. I struggled, still screaming as my fingers clawed desperately at the carpet, as if I could drag myself across to the door.
Pounding on the wood made us both freeze and the voice following was completely unfamiliar. “Las Vegas Police. We need you to open the door.”
“Finally,” Paige muttered, dragging my now unresisting body up with her and keeping a firm grip on my arm as she unbolted the door.
The two officers, both males, glanced between Paige and I, taking in our heavy breathing and more than likely disheveled appearance. Her grip on me tightened as I looked past them at the freedom I could still almost taste.
“We got a call about a disturbance. You mind if we come in and talk?” one of the officers asked, and Paige pulled me backwards.
“Not at all,” she said, guiding me toward the couch. I sat, dropping my eyes to the carpet as the door shut behind them. The cold wind that blew in with the motion made the dampness at the neck of my sweater suddenly more noticeable and I shivered involuntarily. My hair continued to drip against the fabric as my shoulders heaved with my breathing.
“What seems to be the trouble?” the other man asked, but I still didn’t look up to see if they were asking me or Paige.
“My sister is having some problems. She’s struggling to readjust after being kidnapped and I believe she’s become suicidal.” Out of everything she said, Paige referring to me as her sister stuck out in my mind.
“Is that true?” one of the men asked, obviously directing the question at me this time. I still didn’t answer. I just stared at the floor, unable to force my eyes to lift.
“Did she do that to your face?” the other asked Paige. I glanced up to see blood coming from a gash along her cheekbone. My eyes immediately found the floor again as I remembered the sound of my head colliding with her face.
“She did but it wasn’t intentional. I’m not filing charges, I just want to get her help,” Paige responded as the sound of another pounding fist came, causing us to jump. Paige jogged over and I recognized Tish’s voice entering the mix. Perfect. Just fucking perfect.
“Do you have any weapons on you?” the officer closest to me asked. Without looking up to meet Paige or Tish’s eyes, I lifted my right arm toward him, my hand open palm up to bare my wrist.
“I think there’s a razor blade in the cuff of her sweater,” Paige whispered. I flinched as unfamiliar fingers touched me, gripping my wrist and removing the final sliver of my freedom.
They spoke amongst themselves, or maybe they were trying to talk to me too and I wasn’t hearing them, I couldn’t really be sure anymore. I was staring at the floor, fighting an internal battle a million times more painful and exhausting than the physical one I’d just been through. An unfamiliar face registered in my line of sight and I skittered backwards, leaning into the couch cushions further as I stared at the officer.
“I need to ask you a couple of questions.” He waited, but I didn’t acknowledge his statement at all. “Were you trying to harm yourself?” His voice was clear and professional and for the first time since his arrival, I looked over at Tish.
I knew what the right answer was. If I said no, if I played the part and put on the mask, I could figure out my next plan. I was already mentally scouring Nikki’s pill collection, trying to remember if she had anything strong enough to help. But if I said yes…
The pain on Tish’s face broke through and I realized my entire body was trembling as I wrapped my arms around my legs tightly. I stared at Tish, then at Paige, and then back to Tish. They cared.
I nodded.
Yes, I was trying to hurt myself. Yes, if they left me here, I would try again. And again.
“Okay. Will you willingly allow us to take you to get help?” the officer asked. I nodded again, the trembling becoming even harder as I fought to control my emotions. I didn’t want to cry.
In the next few minutes, the officers led me to their car and Paige grabbed my wallet. They followed us to the hospital in Tish’s car. I lost track of time—hours dragged on as I filled out papers and spoke only when I absolutely had to in order to let several different doctors know I was still mentally planning ways to try to hurt myself. After what seemed like an eternity, I found myself transferred up to the psychiatric ward for observation. Tish and Paige had to leave and I realized for the first time, I hadn’t said anything to either of them. Pausing, I turned to face them.
“Tish,” I said, catching their attention as they headed toward the exit. They both turned to face me. “Don’t tell him. Please, don’t tell him.”
Tish looked torn, his face looking older than I’d seen it. Maybe it had been that way since my return. I couldn’t be sure. Finally, Paige said something to him and he glanced over at her before his eyes met mine again, nodding slowly. I swallowed hard and nodded back, hoping they understood my silent thanks before I turned and followed the orderly toward the elevators.
By the time I was behind several layers of locked doors on a floor number I couldn’t even remember and laying on a sterile bed in a completely empty room, I finally let go, sobbing uncontrollably as the pain ripped me apart.
Part Four
Starting Over
Zane & Lili
"You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen,
heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot—it's all there."
- Maya Angelou
Chapter Thirty-One
Blame
Zane
March 17th
"You need to quit blaming yourself for everything that goes wrong."
I looked sideways at Brittany, but didn't respond. I hated that sentence and she knew how much it bothered me, but it didn't stop her from saying it.
"I'm serious. What did the doctor say?"
I sighed. "It doesn't matt—”
"It does matter. Look, you are doing everything you're supposed to be doing as a parent to support him and help him grow. You can't force him to talk."
Looking away, I watched Conner where he sat on a high perch of the massive neighborhood playground. He was spinning the large cylinders, lining up the shapes meticulously, but playing entirely alone. Whenever one of the other kids climbed up to where he was and tried to play with him, he'd back away and withdraw. He was even pulling away from Brittany's kids, Patrick and Sarah, who he'd been around several times and was starting to play with occasionally.
The last eight weeks or so had been an even harder adjustment than I'd imagined. The knowledge that I was going to have another child, one I could potentially fuck up just as much as I had Conner, was still in the back of my mind, but given the lack of face-to-face contact between Lili and I, it felt surreal.
I'd spent days after receiving the results torn on how to feel. Never in my life had I loved anyone the way I loved Lili and that love resulting in a child seemed fitting. Even though we were no longer together, a piece of her and me would always remain. I'd considered calling her but told myself over and over sh
e was better off if I let her go. And now I was truly beginning to believe that. I wanted to be there for her and our child, but it wasn't my place. That place belonged to another man.
I hadn't seen Lili since the day we ran into each other on the sidewalk. I could still see her clearly—her flustered face, the tension in her entire body, her quick retreat. But honestly, I didn't like to remember her that way. My favorite way to remember her was when she smiled. Just thinking about it made me want to pull my wallet out to look at the picture of her and Conner stashed there.
"Did he see her yesterday?" Brittany asked, drawing me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah. Paige picked him up and took him to see her."
"I can tell," Brittany said, a slight edge in her tone. I didn't have to justify my choices to her, but I did anyway.
"I told you, I'm not going to keep him away from anyone who loves him." I'd made that mistake and I wouldn't do it again.
"And she saved his life. Yes. I know." Her tone was sharper now and it irritated me. Before I had a chance to respond, my phone buzzed. I was surprised to see Jackson's number on the screen.
"Hey," I answered, standing up and walking away from Brittany without even looking at her. I kept Conner in my sight but moved out of earshot.
"Hey. I was calling to see if you were busy this evening." I furrowed my brow, glancing over at Brittany discreetly.
"No plans. Night off," I answered. I hadn't seen much of Jackson since his return to Vegas. Honestly, I hadn't seen Sydney or the girls either. I'd checked on them a few times like he'd asked me to, but I hadn't been as good of a friend to him as he deserved—especially considering where he was. Though, I still didn't understand why he'd gone.
"Sydney and I would really like to have you over for dinner." Something in his tone was off, immediately putting me on alert.
"Tonight?" I asked, stalling as I thought about what he might be up to.
