Me knowing what they did undoubtedly puts her at risk. They won’t want any chance of that information getting out. No matter how asinine it sounds. Nobody would believe me, just like they wouldn’t believe her if she had said anything.
I should’ve. Fucking. Been. There.
Glancing around me, the city is a blur of lights and noise. People shove past me, some casting sideway glances at the state I’m in, but none stop to help. I’m invisible here, just another broken man in a city that couldn’t care less.
My ribs tighten again as I push through, only two more stores and I’m there. This has to be more than I’ve walked at one time in the past week. Every breath becomes more ragged with each step until I have to stop, doubling over and grabbing a streetlight to steady myself. A sharp stab rips through my side, and I bite my tongue hard enough to taste blood, waiting for the wave of pain to pass. My lungs burn, and for a second, I think maybe the nurse was right. Maybe this is suicide.
But giving up now isn’t an option.
It feels like an eternity before I find myself in front of a laptop in the Apple store. I wish I had another option, but my only way to get a new phone is to order it online and have it marked as immediate pickup. This way, I can log into my banking account to pay for it.
The Storm Chaser nurse was kind enough to let me log into my Apple account on her phone to get in touch with, well, anyone. Unfortunately, I found myself locked out. I can only assume those asshats found a way to trick the face ID and took over my phone. Leaving me with no way to contact anyone.
Finally, with a phone in hand, I find my way to a bench next to the glass wall facing the street. I curse myself for not knowing anyone’s phone numbers. Who memorizes them anymore with the ability to simply program them in your device? The onlynumbers I can drag from my memory are for my parents, and they aren’t here to help me anymore.
I blamed Raina for their deaths for so long that it’s hard to change the way I instinctively want to curse her name. It makes me insanely guilty, because now I know she didn’t even get my messages. She never heard the sobbing mess I was as I begged her to help them. My anger has been misplaced for so long, and come to find out she was fucking abused that whole time. She needed someone at her side supporting her—she neededme—and it fucking rips me up inside.
Shaking off the memories, I work through my social media apps, trying to log into each one on the off chance I’m still able to access something. With each denial, I lose more hope. I knew it was a long shot, but now it’s becoming a certainty. To be honest, I should be thankful I was able to access my banking to even get the phone in the first place, but a crushing need to cry like a baby is sneaking up on me.
I’m in so much pain, I want it to end.
And now I can’t stop thinking about how I found Raina in the ocean. I can only imagine the colossal weight of what she’s been through. Having no one by her side. Constantly crushed by everyone she meets… I want to change that for her. Be the man who deserves to be by her side. But how do you even start to make up for the years you spent hating someone who was broken too?
I finish setting up my phone, ensuring my bank account is connected to Apple Pay so I at least have a way to pay for things and shove it into my pocket. The only good thing I have going for me at the moment is knowing that I had enough time to game plan over the past week. What else did I have to obsess over? I’ve thought of every possible scenario and came up with so many plans I know it’s inevitable I’ll find my way back to her, it’s simply a matter of time at this point.
Taking a settling breath that stabs my side, I rub my face, wincing as my fingertips graze the bruises. The reminder of the beating I took isn’t only physical, it’s a punch straight to the gut, making the sensation of helplessness strike me all over again.
I should’ve protected her. I should’ve gone when she did, never left her side for a single fucking second.
The need to find Raina burns hotter with each passing second. Knowing what she’s endured... and knowing I wasn’t there for her when she needed me most, it twists the knife in deeper. All those years, I thought she abandoned me, and now I realize she was the one drowning. The guilt settles like a lead weight in my chest.
Unlocking my phone, I search for her tour dates, needing to know where she’ll be next. Goddamn it. Not having access to a device while laying in that hospital bed meant that I could plan and strategize to my heart’s content, but I wasn’t able to make any concrete decisions. After her show tonight, she has a five fucking day break. I’ll never be able to figure out where she is, which means I’ll have to wait to try to get to her in Boston. Even that isn’t a guarantee…
The sharp edge of guilt dulls, replaced by a resolve I haven’t felt in years—it doesn’t even come close to the desire I had to break her not long ago. There’s no time for me to sit in self-pity or let the past consume me any longer. I’ve wasted too much of it hating her for something she had no control over, and now I need to make things right. For her. For me. For all the damn lost time.
She’s been fighting alone for too long, and I’ll be damned if I let her continue drowning in the ocean of people trying to crush her spirit. I don’t know what she’s up against, but it’s clear she’s surrounded by sharks. My gut twists thinking of the kind of evil that’s kept her isolated, suffering in silence.
Every destructive thing I did, all my unforgivable acts… they all lead me to bringing my best friends along for the ride. I resented them for not feeling the same way about her as I did, but right now, that’s my saving grace. She has them now—to protect her when I can’t.
I stand, despite the searing pain in my ribs. I won’t let my injuries stop me, no matter how much it was stressed that I get rest. I’ve been beaten down before, and every time, I’ve gotten back up. This time won’t be any different.
If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving the wreckage. Now, I’ll help her do the same.
I walk out into the night, ignoring the way my body protests with each step. There’s a fire inside me that burns hotter than the pain. I don’t know where she is, or how I’ll find her, but I will. I’ll fight whatever demons come for her, and I’ll prove that this time, I’m not letting her face any of it alone.
She might not want me. She might hate me for not being there when she needed me most. And lord knows I deserve to never be forgiven for the things I did. But I’ll fight for her, and if that means crawling through hell to do it, I’ll burn every inch of the way.
After a shower and clean clothes, I’m ready to find the bus and get the hell out of the city. The quicker the better before the drugs come out in even greater force than it has been. New York City has always been a place that I’ve got fucked up the most. I hate to admit it, but I have multiple stretches of days blacked out from my memory.
Perhaps it’s my brain protecting my sanity from knowing what went on during that time, or perhaps it’s simply the result of mixing so many drugs together there was no possible way to come up from it.
In either case, I don’t need the temptation around, not that I feel the need to escape much anymore. Not with my men here. Not with the changes I’m working toward. That dark, empty place doesn’t seem to be sucking me in any longer.
Speaking of, I wish they could have stayed with me. Instead, we split off into men’s and women’s facilities. A desire not to start any rumors right now is the guiding force. I still can’t believe I agreed to the fake flirting performance piece withDarius. If I was in one of the romances I’ve been reading, then I would be one step away from the fake dating trope.
My final costume for the night falls from the hanger as I hastily grab it, making me groan as I hang it back up, and then gather the rest of my things. I listen for a moment to the sounds outside before I flick the lock, not wanting to get swarmed by fans unexpectedly. It’s happened before, and it’s terrifying when you don’t realize it’s coming. The door creaks as I open it, and I almost immediately wish I had hung out for a few more minutes instead of letting my desire to find the guys guide me.
“Raina, there you are. Always slacking off.” Alyssa’s voice reaches me, my hand instinctively curling into a fist until my nails bite into my palm. She had to be waiting for me to open the door. “There’s a mandatory party tonight. If you’re not there, we will be forced to follow through with consequences.”
