Eyes Turned Skyward

by Rebecca Yarros

  A smile ghosted her lips. “How do you just get prettier? That isn’t fair.”

  I pressed my lips to her forehead.

  “My Jagger.” Her head rolled onto my shoulder, and her eyes closed.

  I tightened my hold on her and walked out of the decrepit house.

  “Just you and me. Promise?” Her voice drifted off.

  “Always, Anna. You and me.” I secured her in the backseat of the Range Rover. At least no one had stripped it while we were inside.

  I closed Anna’s door and leaned on the frame of the car, the chill of the metal biting through my shirt faster than the frigid air. I welcomed it, the slight bite that grounded me in this moment, reminding me that I was really here. I’d found her.

  This time.

  A primal sound ripped from my throat and my fists shook, aching to destroy something. I shoved my hands into my jeans pockets to keep them contained, and my fingers skimmed across Paisley’s nickel. I’d promised her I’d control my temper, and I owed it to her. My head slammed against the car, and I stayed there a minute or two, trying to process it. My success at finding Anna. My failure for letting her fall as far as she had. The relief. The resignation that this was never going to end until she chose it for herself.

  The engine roared to life, jarring me from my pity party. I sucked in a glacial breath and let it numb me from the inside out. Then I got in the car, ready to take the other half of my soul to rehab. Again.

  “You look like shit,” Paul said, handing me a cup of coffee. It was the only drug allowed in this place.

  “Thanks.” I rubbed my free hand across my face and took a drink, welcoming the caffeine, and dropped the 5&9s into my bag. Study time over.

  “Anything yet?” He looked at Anna asleep in the hospital bed. The bed was the only hint that this room wasn’t in an immaculately decorated house.

  “Not since the worst of the withdrawals passed.”

  “Worse than last time?” He stretched out in the armchair parallel to mine and kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

  “Five days.” I kept my voice flat, but Paul knew. He’d been with me since this started, since before, really. He’d watched her slow decent into hell just like I had, both of us powerless to keep her from poisoning herself.

  “Favorite line?” he asked, trying to bring our usual, morbid levity into the situation.

  “This time, hmm…” I thought hard. “Definitely the I hate yous, but those are nothing new. But her telling the nurse she was going to use the stethoscope to slingshot her ass back to the hippie commune she apparently was born in was nice.”

  “Ah, she’s not digging the holistic approach?”

  “That’s a negative. Then again, I’m not sure I’m down with the lack of…everything, either. I’ve been cut off from civilization for the last six days.” They confiscated every cell phone at the entrance, and there were no landlines in the building except the ones for emergencies. No internet, no TV, no game systems. But there was a shit ton of yoga, if that was your thing.

  “Why don’t you go out past the property line and make a call?”

  I shook my head, concentrating on the rise and fall of Anna’s chest. “I promised her I wouldn’t leave. If I’m not here when she wakes up, we’ve got no chance of keeping her here. As it is, I have one more day before I have to get home to Rucker.” Home to Paisley.

  She was going to kill me, and I deserved it. I hadn’t spoken to her since Friday night, and that had been a hurried message on her voice mail that I had an emergency out of town and I’d call her when I could. Talking to her was more crucial than air, but at this point I’d screwed up so royally that I had to do it in person. I’d been consumed with one thought—get to Anna—and everything else had faded until I had her here, admitted.

  Anna was my Achilles’ heel, and I was going to have to beg Paisley to understand once I could explain it to her. Now just figure out how the hell to do that. I’d run through just about every scenario possible, every way to tell her, to crack the window into my past and help her absorb that sometimes it bled, hemorrhaged, really, into my present.

  “Just call. It will only take a few minutes, and I can stay with her.” He saw me hesitate. “Jagger, that’s your real life in Alabama. This isn’t you anymore, and I couldn’t be prouder of what you’ve done in every aspect of your life. Now get to a damn phone and call your girl.”

  The need to hear Paisley’s voice was a physical ache that affected every limb, every finger, even my tongue. I flicked the stud over my teeth and rethought my whole “in person” position. Maybe I just needed to talk to her, to remember my other life, and she was waiting for me. Fuck it. I wanted my cell phone, a quiet room, and a sweet little southern accent in my ear. I stood and made it to the door handle before Anna stirred.

  “Jag?”

  I deflated like a popped balloon and plastered a smile on my face before I turned around. “Hey.”

  Paul excused himself as Anna sat up, blinking the sleep out of her eyes. She was still gaunt, even worse after going through withdrawals, but she was clean. Her hair was pulled into a messy knot at the top of her head, and her T-shirt hung too large on her frame, making her seem younger than she was. “Are you leaving?” The panic that radiated from her eyes stopped me dead in my tracks.

  “No,” I answered, sitting next to her on the bed. I cupped her cheek in my hand, running my thumb along her pocked skin. It didn’t matter what she’d done to herself; she was permanently sixteen to me, more vibrant than any girl or woman I knew or had known since. I chose to believe she was there, under the sagging skin and open sores, still my Anna, just a little worn at the edges. “I do have to go home tomorrow,” I said softly.

  “I’m your home,” she protested in a soft whine. “You always say I’m your home.”

  “I know, and you are. But I’m in flight school. If I stay any longer, they’ll set me back a class, or worse, I’ll fail out.” I picked up her hand and gently squeezed her bony fingers. “I don’t have a choice.”

  Her mouth pursed. “You always have a choice. You could stay. We could get an apartment. I know I could stay clean if you would just stay with me.” Her eyes turned to liquid pools, a trick she’d learned early on got to me.

  I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. “We’ve tried that, Anna. I just end up down the rabbit hole with you, and I’m done. You need to get clean here. There’s no time limit, you’re paid for as long as you need to stay, but we can’t keep doing this.”

  “Is it because of her?” she asked softly.

  My stomach clenched. “Her?”

  “The girl with the sweatshirt. The one you put me in? It’s a girl’s hoodie, and it smells sweet. Have you…found someone?”

  Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t lie. “Yes, but she’s not why I can’t stay. I’m in flight school. You know how much that means to me, what I’ve given up to do this.”

  “You’ve never chosen another girl over me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes losing their focus.

  I lifted her chin. “I’m still not. This isn’t a competition, Anna.”

  “Does she know about me?”

  I shook my head. “Not yet.”

  She let out a pitiful laugh. “I wouldn’t want to tell her, either. I’m a drug addict, right? A high-school-dropout embarrassment that you waste your time and love on and who just won’t go away.”

  “That’s not true. I love you, Anna. Nothing is ever going to change that.”

  “But she is!” she shouted, drawing her knees to her chest. “You said you’d never love another girl, that I was the other half of your soul. You promised!” Her hands ripped into her hair, and I drew them away gently.

  “In all fairness, I think we were nine when I promised that.”

  She pouted, the look the closest to my Anna as I’d gotten in almost seven years. “It still holds.”

  A smile spread across my face. “You look like such an imp when you do that. Stop being
a pain in the ass. I love you. I will always love you. There is no force on earth, no other woman in the universe who will replace you. Ever. But I can’t stay here with you. I’m not what you need right now.”

  “I hate you,” she whispered.

  It stung but didn’t cripple, not like it usually did. “Yeah, well, I hate me, too. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t see what you were doing until you were so far gone. I’m sorry about the late-night parties, and the girls, and making you feel like you didn’t have any other recourse.” My throat threatened to close, but I pushed through, needing to say it. “I’m sorry you felt abandoned, but I can promise that you never were, and you never will be. If I could go back…”

  She narrowed her eyes. “You’d what? Stop me before it started? Get me through rehab successfully that first time? Or maybe just before I whored myself out when I ran out of money?”

  Nausea struck hard, nearly doubling me over. I blocked out the images she put in my head, so I could breathe. “I would have stopped it all, been whatever you needed. I’m sorry I was young, and stupid, and didn’t realize until it was too late. And as for money, you know I’ll give you whatever you need. Please—” My voice broke. “Anna, don’t do that. You’re worth so much more than that, and it’s dangerous. Let me take care of you.”

  “Not with his money. I’d rather take my clothes off than take his money.” Her eyes sparked with life, and though I wanted to soothe her, I was just as happy to see her passionate about something, even if it was hatred.

  There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” I said as the heavyset nurse entered.

  “Anna Bateman?” she asked. Anna’s eyes widened before she nodded. The nurse verified the name on her bracelet with the chart and then switched her IV bag. “I’ll be around to check your vitals in a little bit.”

  “Thank you,” I said, since Anna’s manners wouldn’t.

  The nurse nodded and slipped out.

  “You told them my last name was Bateman?” She smiled.

  “Yeah, it was less risky than telling them your real one.”

  “I like being a Bateman. I’ll have to think about that. Tell you what. I’ll keep it if you agree to stay.”

  “I can’t stay! I have a life in Alabama, and you need to get clean and stay there for once.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to! Did it ever occur to you that I’m fine? That I’m happy the way I am without you trying to fix me?” Tears welled in her eyes and ran down her cheeks. I closed my eyes against the assault. Nothing had ever affected me like her tears did. “I’m never going to be okay. I’m a lost cause, so I don’t understand why you just won’t lose me, too!”

  I stood, concentrating on keeping my knees steady. “You are not lost! I will always search for you. I will always pull you back. I will always find you!” My skin felt tight, dry as I rubbed my face in my hands. “Fuck, Anna! You have to help. You have to take one damned step on your own, because I can’t keep walking for us both. I can’t keep you clean. You have to do that yourself—want that for yourself.”

  “Stay. Please?” she begged. “Don’t leave me.”

  For a second, we were sixteen again, wrapped around each other, clinging to the only sure thing we’d always had while our world was shredded in front of us. That sixteen-year-old boy should have stayed, should have been what she needed. But he hadn’t, and the twenty-three-year-old man who stood in his place couldn’t. Not when I knew that staying with her would mean forsaking everything I’d worked for—my independence, my career, my general sanity. “I can’t.” My hand rested on the doorknob. “I have a training bubble after selection next month.” If they don’t kick me out for failing after missing six fucking days. “I’ll come then, I promise, but I can’t stay. Not now.”

  “I can’t do this without you,” she whispered.

  I rested my forehead on the door frame and held off the guilt that lured me to stay here. Then I pictured Paisley. Her smile, her kiss, the way she surrounded me with acceptance and inflamed every one of my senses while soothing me at the same time. “You can’t do this with me, Anna. I can’t be your crutch, not anymore. I’ve gotten you here. I’ve given you every tool you need, but we’ve been doing this dance for seven years, and it’s time for you to stand.”

  “You’re leaving me…for her. C to G, Jagger! You swore!”

  I lifted the short sleeve of my T-shirt to expose the tribal tattoo on my right arm and pointed to the lettering in the center. “C to G. I’m here! I mean it. But I can’t do this for you. You have to do it yourself. I can’t get clean for you.”

  “You’re choosing her over me!” she cried out.

  I opened the door to the hallway and didn’t turn back around. “No, I chose you when I came instead of staying where she might have needed me.” A mistake I’d never make again. “I’ve taken care of you, Anna, like I swore I would. But now I need you to choose you, too. I can’t stick around and watch you kill yourself like this anymore.”

  The door closed behind me, putting enough space between Anna and me to breathe.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Paisley

  1. Fall into desperate, soul-consuming love.

  The smell of popcorn filled the townhouse, and I dug out a package of M&M’s from the hidden stash of candy I kept behind the flour. After all, I’d read somewhere that mass amounts of chocolate gave your brain the same chemicals as an orgasm. I’d probably need to eat the whole darn factory to get even half of what Jagger did to me. I climbed off the shelves in the pantry, pulling my flannel drawstring pants back up to my waist and adjusting the straps of my tank top.

  “Ooh¸ is it movie night?” Morgan asked, skipping into the kitchen, dressed in form-flattering jeans and a low-cut top.

  The clock said eight fifteen, and I rolled my eyes at her. “Not for you, it’s not. Go on, get out, Morgan.”

  She leaned over the kitchen island. “I’d rather stay here and keep you company.”

  “No. You’re not going to miss out on anything on my account.”

  She arched an eyebrow at me. “Are you going to call your boyfriend? Or are you still avoiding him?”

  The problem with avoiding telling Jagger about the tests was that it meant I hadn’t seen him, or touched him, or kissed him. I was close to a high-school prank hang-up call. The microwave dinged, and I removed the bag, careful to only hold onto the edges. Once the bowl in front of me was full, I popped a few tablespoons of butter in the microwave to melt. I mean, if my heart was going to give out anyway, I might as well.

  “Paisley. You have to tell him.”

  I nodded, dumping the bag of M&M’s on top of the hot popcorn. Another ding, and the butter was ready for drizzling.

  “Paisley!” Morgan slammed her hands down on the counter in front of me.

  My head snapped up. “I know! It’s just…” My eyes darted from the calendar marked with the next appointment. “He doesn’t treat me like I’m broken.”

  “You’re not broken.”

  “Oh, please. Everyone else sees me as a cracked little vase. They just keep handing me back and forth, careful not to press on the weak spots, keeping me high on the shelf where I can’t breathe. Jagger…he’s like a shot of pure oxygen. I don’t want to lose that.”

  “You’re not going to stop loving him just because you tell him. He’s not going to walk away, not with the way he looks at you. That boy is head over heels, and he deserves to know.”

  “I never said I was in love with him.” I focused on the popcorn bowl, methodically tossing it to distribute the chocolate and butter.

  “Oh, darlin’, you didn’t have to.” Morgan grabbed my hand. “You wear your heart in those pretty green eyes of yours. You can’t fool me.”

  Tears pricked at my eyes. “But I don’t want to love him! That’s stupid, isn’t it? That I’m ridiculously happy, but won’t admit it?”

  “Yep, stupid, especially for someone who counts down her days like some morbid Advent calendar.” She gra
bbed a handful of popcorn. “When did you realize it?”

  When did I realize it? I thought and simply…knew. “When he told me that he’d rather burn for just a moment, to really experience love than live a lifetime safe without it.” I sighed. “It was like…he was meant for me, you know? Because that moment might be all I have to give him.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

  “He shouldn’t love me. He needs someone who can jump out of planes with him and hike mountains in Nepal. He doesn’t need to be saddled with some invalid girl who can’t do anything but focus on her heartbeat.” I ripped off my watch and slammed it into the counter. “He shouldn’t be with me.”

  “Nepal? Love isn’t exactly rational, and neither are you at this moment.” She picked up the watch and checked that I hadn’t broken it. “He won’t leave you, Paisley. If that’s what’s really scaring you, don’t let it. Jagger is a fighter, and he’ll stand by you.”

  I swallowed, imagining the pacemaker surgeries, or the small electrical shocks he could get if I chose the internal defibrillator. He’d live in waiting rooms and doctors’ offices. He’d look at me like a heart condition and not…me. I swallowed, damning the situation I’d gotten us both into. “Morgan, I’m not scared he won’t stand by me. I’m terrified he will.”

  “Stop—”

  But I couldn’t stem the word vomit. “Especially now. I feel fine on these new meds, like I could conquer the world, and yet I’m like the one in one-freaking-billion whose enlarging heart doesn’t stop growing when the rest of me does. He doesn’t deserve this!”

  She tilted her head and raised her eyebrow. “He deserves to be happy, the same as you, and he deserves to know the truth. Now, quit your damn whining before the violins start playing sad songs in our kitchen.”

  “Ugh. I made such a mess.”

  She smiled like a Cheshire cat. “But what a fine mess to be in. Jagger Bateman is in love with you. And you’re in love with him. Do you know how rare that is? That the person you love feels it, too? Trust me, it doesn’t happen as often as you think.”