Ruined (The Hazed Series Book 3)

by Brittany Butler

  “It’s different now…I used to need it, but I don’t anymore. I’ve done it a few times for fun, and it’s you that’s changing me. I probably should’ve told you, but every time I saw you, I found myself doing less, wanting to see you more. And I knew I couldn’t tell you after we started dating, you would’ve left without letting me explain…I just thought if I waited long enough, it would go away. No one would remember, you wouldn’t find out…I wouldn’t do any of that shit again.”

  “Problems don’t just disappear, Hayze…That’s really screwed up…You can’t keep something this big from me and hope it goes away. I could’ve forgiven you for that. Everyone has things they’re not proud of from their past, but you intentionally kept it from me. You could’ve told me so many times, Hayze, now I’m just wondering if this is another lie. Maybe you’re scared I’ll find out that you’re still using every day and this is another cover-up,” she said, wiping her eyes.

  I reached for her hand, but she jerked away from my touch. “Baby, I’m finally telling the truth, you’ve gotta believe me.”

  “I’ll never trust you again. I’ll always wonder…” She stood up and grabbed a pair of shoes. Sliding them on, she walked toward the door. “I don’t know what’s worse. The lies or the fact that you wouldn’t tell me because you thought I’d leave you as soon as we hit a bump in the road. I could’ve helped you, Hayze.”

  “It’s not like that. You deserved more, you didn’t need to help me, I had it under control. It’s just that…Last night got out of hand. I should’ve been watching you. It’s my fault.”

  “You didn’t have it under control. Look, I’m going for a walk…I’ll let you know something when I get back,” she said, leaving the room. I caught her wrist before she could get far.

  “Let me know something? Want me to come with you?”

  “No…I need space from you,” she snapped at me. Sighing, I dropped her arm and let her go.

  I waited until she was far ahead of me before I went after her. I stood at the tree line, watching her throw rocks in the lake. Watching her reminded me of myself. I did this for hours after my dad was taken off for stabbing Chance. It didn’t help…The only thing that would’ve helped was throwing his worthless ass in there.

  Growing impatient, I shoved my hands in my pocket, cowering from the cool breeze, and walked over. I didn’t have to say anything; she just stopped and waited.

  "If you're looking to release anger, you'll have to throw something much heavier," I finally said.

  "Maybe I should throw you.”

  Chuckling, I stepped closer. At least she was joking. That was a good sign, right?

  “Yeah, maybe you should," I said.

  She fumbles with the zipper on her jacket, pulling it up to the top. She hugs herself, looking away from me.

  Fuck.

  I should’ve given her more time. I kicked a rock around the shoreline, patiently waiting for something to happen. Anything. Scream at me, yell, hit me…Show me you care. Your nonchalant attitude is terrifying. Maybe I’ve finally pushed her to the point I always feared I would.

  Glancing up, I find she’s studying me. I walked to her, hoping she’d let me touch her. Or let me explain. I don’t ask her permission as I pulled her into a hug.

  "You wanna go back in? I'll make you some coffee," I said, kissing her hair.

  "I, uh, need to get back to the dorm.”

  I pulled away, looking at her blank expression. Fuck. It’s over.

  "Is that what you want?"

  "That's what I need," she said. When her eyes dropped to the ground, I knew it was over.

  I walked ahead of her, stopping at the cabin for our things. When I got outside, she was waiting in the Mustang. I slid in, started the engine and backed out without saying a word.

  She didn’t say one word the entire drive. She didn’t give me the slightest hope. I was left alone with my racing mind, and the inability to take anything to feel better. If I slipped out a pill and took it, she would be furious.

  When we got to her dorm, it was empty. Taylor picked up a note, read it, and threw it away angrily. Like a caged animal, I paced her floor.

  Did she want me to leave? I couldn’t go without saying anything. She had to give me something. She sat at her desk, staring up at me. Rubbing my hands through my hair, I dropped in front of her.

  "Taylor, look…don't do this! What do I have to do?"

  "You know the answer to that,” she said, bored.

  "I told you I would quit! I haven't used in a week, Taylor! And I’m not doing it again,” I said. Again it was partially true, but I know I can quit.

  "I don't know if I believe you, Hayze. I don't know that I'll ever believe you! Every time you don't text back, every time you do something off, I'll always go back to this. I'll always wonder if you're using, if you’ve been arrested, if you overdosed, if.... I just can't do it!"

  Sighing, “You don't have to worry about it anymore. I promise! Fuck! I'll let you drug test me if that's what you need."

  "That's not normal..." She said, almost laughing.

  "Fuck normal!" My voice boomed with anger as I slapped everything off of her desk. I’m so tired of hearing that word from her.

  "Maybe I need a better word… Healthy! That's not healthy. Relationships shouldn't require someone to drug test," she said.

  "What do I have to do? I'll do it! I'll do anything, just don't look at me like that," I said, calming my anger. I crouched in front of her, taking her hands in mine, pleading with her.

  "Like what?" She snapped at me.

  "Like you're done," I said. She won’t look at me…Why won’t she look at me?

  "I am."

  Fuck.

  "No, no you're not,” I said, shaking my head. "What do I have to do?"

  Standing from the chair, she pushed past me and fell on the bed. With her hands stuffed behind her head, she studies the ceiling.

  "Prove it," she finally said.

  I sighed, exasperated. "That's what I'm trying to do! How should I prove it?"

  "I need time. I need…some space," she said.

  I stood over her bed, watching her. She won’t look at me. She won’t even let on the fact that she’s hurting. She’s just…indifferent.

  “I don't like that, but if it's what you need, I'll try."

  "It's what I need,” she said, again showing no emotion.

  I stepped toward her, hoping to lie with her, but she shook her head. With her growing indifference, I walked to the door, hoping my leaving would bring out any emotion. If I leave now without saying anything, maybe she’ll run after me.

  When I get halfway down the hall, I turn, finding her watching me. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but snapped it shut. I wait for anything to happen, but she just stood there like an animal trapped in light. All the air in my lungs rushed out as she ran back for her room and slammed her door. She’s really done this time.

  I walked from the dorms, unsure of where to go. I wanted so badly to get off of everything, but everywhere I went had bad memories attached to them. I pointed my Mustang in the direction of my apartment, hoping to catch Joel.

  When I got back, I searched every room of my small apartment, not finding Joel or any indication that he had been there. I chugged the last of my beer, grabbed a new one, then went back to stare at Joel’s door. Where was that fucker at?

  Normal.

  Time.

  Space.

  My beer bottle crashes into Joel’s door. I wait for movement, for any sign the dumbass is in there. Nothing. He’s smarter than I thought. I stalk away and shove everything I need in a duffle bag then leave my room.

  Every time I pass his door I see red; before I can find a rational reason not to punch the door, I send my fist flying, when it connects, I hear a crack. Fuck. The door has a hole through it, with angry red blood spots. My hand stings, but I’m not looking at it. Fuck my hand. Fuck the door. Joel can pay for that shit.

  We wer
e fine. For the first time since I met her, she didn’t look at me with suspicious eyes, knowing I was hiding shit from her. Because I wasn’t. I was off everything…mostly. Okay, I was planning on it. But I only did it for fun, not because I needed it, that’s a huge fucking step.

  Fucking space.

  If there was one word I could erase permanently from her head, I wouldn’t hesitate. Nothing good ever comes from that damn word. I go in the kitchen, rubbing my temples, thinking. I crouch down, finding the only cabinet we use. It looks normal enough, cheap-ass white cabinet, three unused cooking pans, but no one digs through it. No one sees past the surface. Not giving a fuck about the place, I slap the pans, one-by-one, on the floor and find our stash. This use to be the first place I would’ve ran. I grab the bags, clenching them in my fist from anger. This shit, the same shit that got me in trouble with Taylor, could make me forget about the pain for one night. I slide my back down the cabinet and stare at the white wall in front of me.

  What’s it going to be tonight? Weed? Coke? Pills?

  I clench the bags in my hand and jump up. What the fuck am I thinking? With the flip of a switch, the garbage disposal turns on. I stand over the sink, staring at the bags. One-by-one I open them and pour the shit down the drain then fling the bags in the trash. Joel can replace that shit, too. I dare him to say shit about it. I grab my bag on the way out. I lock the door only because I still have stuff in here. I’ll be back for it, I’ll come when Joel’s here, and I’m waiting for that day.

  I start the Mustang, revving the engine, I notice her fruity perfume still fills the car from this morning, I look over at the empty seat. I punch the steering wheel and pull from the lot. Blood trickles down my arm, I pull my shirt off at a stop-light and wrap it around my knuckles.

  As soon as I get to the cabin, I regret it. What was I thinking? I shouldn’t have told her. Something about the way she asked, with those big doe eyes, I had to tell her the truth. I had it under control, it was stupid to go back to that damn apartment. When we’re alone, we’re good, then we get around my dumb-ass friends and I’m on edge. I knew someone was going to slip eventually, and they almost did. But in the end, I was the one to fuck it up.

  Fucking space.

  I need a timeline for this shit. Twenty-minutes? Two hours? A day? Nothing more…I won’t allow it. It’ll take everything I have to stay away for the next twenty-four hours. I toss my bag in the empty cabin, and hide my keys under the sofa cushions before pouring myself a stout drink.

  She didn’t say anything about drinking.

  Besides, this bottle of whiskey will keep me out of her dorm tonight, but she’ll be seeing me tomorrow. I’m not staying away like a sitting duck while her dumb-ass ex-boyfriend and whoever else swoops in while she’s vulnerable. She’ll hear me out. She’ll forgive me when she knows everything. She has to, I won’t give up until she’s back. She told me to prove it, and I will, if it’s the last thing I do, she’ll be mine again.

  31

  ME AFTER YOU

  The next day, I barged in Dr. Moore’s office uninvited. His secretary ran behind me, attempting to stop me. I slammed the door in her face and he snapped up, looking surprised.

  “Hayze? It’s good to see you…You’ve missed your last appointments.”

  “Cut the shit,” I said, pacing his floor. “You told me to go to on a date.”

  He straightened his glasses. “I did.”

  “I went on a date. I fell in love with her…”

  “Excellent news,” he said, cutting me off.

  “She dumped me! My roommate drugged her and she fucking dumped me! It was my fault! Chance was my fault! My dad was my fault!” I said, stomping around the room. “Next time you need to give me advice, tell me to swallow an entire bottle of pills!”

  He jumped up from behind his desk and ran toward me. But I was done. This shit was his fault. He planted the idea in my head to date someone and I ran with it.

  “Hayze, wait!” He said, running behind me.

  I kept walking. I was down with all of them. I knew he would call my mom and the entire town would be looking for me within minutes, but I didn’t care. I knew I’d go back when she left. I fucking knew it. She was my only reason I wanted to quit using coke…Now I didn’t give a fuck what happened to me.

  I went back to the dorms, looking for her. She couldn’t avoid me forever. I banged on the door for what felt like an hour before Lea answered.

  Her eyes went wide. I’m sure I looked ridiculous. You couldn’t exactly blend in when you snorted as much coke as I had.

  She looked around the hall. “What are you doing here, Hayze?”

  “I came for tea…What the fuck do you think I’m doing here?” I asked, pushing past her.

  “She’s not here.”

  I stormed around the room, looking for her and anything that belonged to her. “Where is she?”

  “She’s staying somewhere right now…She didn’t say.”

  I clenched my jaw together and slapped all the shit off of Lea’s desk. Sighing, she threw her hands up. “With a guy?”

  “What? NO? Have you lost your fucking mind?” She asked, walking over to the mess I created.

  I grabbed her arm. “Find her. Call her. Now.”

  She grabbed my arm and shoved me back. “This is exactly why she left. You need to calm down, Hayze. I swear to God if I see you like this again, I’ll get a court order to send you to rehab!”

  “I need to talk to her!”

  She pushed me to the door. “No, you need to go home and calm the fuck down and I’ll talk to you then…”

  I stormed from her dorm. Fuck her, too.

  ****

  Days blend into years when you’re fighting the shakes. After the week I’ve had, my body is screaming for the white powder I threw out.

  I went crazy after she left, but somehow I pulled myself together. She’ll never come back if she sees me the way I was. Spring Semester is starting back tomorrow and I’m bound to run into her. Maybe when she sees me, it’ll be too much, and she’ll want to work things out. I’ll never know if I don’t get this coke thing under control.

  I’ve been sitting in my apartment, taking anxiety medication every time I started to feel something. Night is my enemy, I lie awake, thinking about her being here and wondering how I can get her back.

  Tomorrow I’m stopping by her dorm before class. I should rip it off like a Band-Aid; just force her to see me and talk to me.

  ****

  Does she really think a door, an inch of vinyl, will keep me out? I banged on it again, the flimsy material shutters against my fist. I can bust through. I look around, finding no one in sight; no one would witness it.

  I cuff my hands around my mouth and lean into the door, heeding one last warning. “Taylor? I can and I will bust this door down,” I say, my voice is hushed.

  I take a step back, waiting. If she’s in there, she’ll open the door just to avoid a scene. She knows I’m serious. I squeeze the door handle, bracing my shoulders for impact; I’m mid-step when someone behind me clears their throat.

  I find a short girl with square-rimmed glasses, scowling at me. She crosses her arms, waiting for an explanation. I drop my hand from the door and shoot her a glare.

  “What?”

  I briefly think she’s going to tell me she’s friends with Taylor, but her hard glare falters, she drops her hands and walks into the dorm beside Taylor’s.

  Un-fucking-believable.

  Me, the guy who once told a girl I was my own twin brother so she wouldn’t come looking for me again, is thinking about busting a girl’s door down. Taylor would be pissed, but what does she expect? It’s been two weeks! She won’t even answer my calls!

  I pat down my pockets and find my debit card. I clench it in my fist, I haven’t done this in a while. With a quick glance behind me, I slide the card in the crack, jingling it until it hooks in the lock. I slide down and the door pops open; I’ve still got it.

  The
room is clean, too clean, even Lea’s side. Frantically, I rip open the closet door, finding most of Taylor’s clothes. Her white Converses are gone, that fuzzy pink jacket she wears is also gone…So is her makeup. I call her again and it goes straight to voicemail. For fuck’s sake, it’s the first day of class. She should be here.

  Unless she transferred….

  Going through her room will only piss her off, so why the hell am I even here? I walk from the closet, intending to leave but something caught my eye. I’ve never noticed the small frame beside her bed. Needing a closer look, I pick it up. She can’t be too pissed at me with a picture of us beside her bed. The glass isn’t shattered, that’s a start. I lay it on her bed and leave.

  On my way out I make sure I didn’t damage the lock. The last thing she needs is some lunatic coming into her room.

  I walk to my dreaded first class as the dead grass crunches under me. First up is American Lit, I manage to skip blow-off classes until this semester. Just a few more months of this…Then I start over again, but at least it’ll be something I want to do—something I’m interested in.

  Lea stops in front of the dorms, waiting at the bottom of the steps. A heap of brown hair flies through the wind. Taylor stops and whips her hair back in place. My feet are planted to the ground as I look at her for the first time in weeks.

  It takes all I have to stay here. I want to run to her and demand to know why she won’t talk to me. I want to know if she can move past this.

  I stalk off before she can see me. It’s like a dull knife to the gut to see her without being able to talk to her.

  No one tells you pain hits you in waves. One minute you're over it; the next you're clutching your chest, praying to whoever might be listen, for the nightmare to end. I knew she had the power to destroy me. One night would’ve never been enough with her, but if my dad was right about anything, I should never keep one after one night. If she won’t come back, this will end me. She was my only hope of coming out of my own personal hell. Without her, I have no purpose to come out of this. She’ll come back. She has to.