He moved his lips down to my neck, and hoisted me into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. My entire body was engulfed in ferocious emotion, something that set every nerve ending on fire and ran wild throughout my body. It was like my soul had left my physical being, and I was watching us from above. It was love—real love—as pure and as passionate as I could only ever dream of.
“Tell me in the morning.” My voice was raspy as I whispered into his neck.
“I will.”
We retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door behind us.
Twenty-five
Sometimes when you’re asleep, you wake up for no reason at all other than your body’s will, as if it knows something you don’t. I blinked my eyes open, adjusting to the dim light of the moon that filtered through the window. The space beside me was empty, and I felt a shiver rip through me as I’d kicked off all the blankets sometime in the middle of the night.
Hushed voices came from outside the door. In my half-asleep trance I could barely decipher words, only emotions. Anger. Hurt. I pulled myself out of bed, my body still trying to shake sleep out of me, and pushed the bedroom door open slowly. The common area of the suite was empty, but the door to the balcony had been left wide open, filling the room with a cool salty breeze. I shivered again and slid the door shut.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the bathroom door cracked open, with little streams of light spilling through the bottom. I moved closer to the door and was about to push it open when Stella’s voice rang clear.
“I don’t know.” Her voice cracked when she spoke.
“Stella, I need more help,” Alec replied, more calm and collected than Stella, but it wasn’t hard to pinpoint that something was wrong. “Can you please go wake them?Please.”
I couldn’t breathe. Alec’s words were like a string tethered to my body, pulling me closer until I pushed the door open slowly. Part of me was convinced none of this was even real, and my sleeping mind had been playingInception-like tricks on me, still dreaming but making me think I was awake.
Stella stood with her back to the door, and Alec was crouched over a body leaning against the wall between the glass shower doors and the toilet. Bloody towels were strewn across the bathroom floor, lying in puddles stained red. The water in the sink was running. When Brooklyn came into view, my body went numb. His face was pale, and I couldn’t tell if it was tears or sweat that rolled down his cheeks like tiny rivers, mixing with the blood that caked around his nose. A mix of blood and sweat and bile stained the front of his T-shirt, and all the smells hit me like a freight train. It smelled like death. My stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to be sick. I went to step backward but my legs felt too heavy to lift and grounded me where I stood.
“Stella.” Alec’s voice remained steady. “Please. You’re only making things worse.”
She exhaled sharply. “Worse? How much worse do you think things could possibly get?”
Alec finally noticed me standing petrified in the doorway, his eyes wide and bloodshot and absolutely filled with panic.
“Much worse.”
Stella turned around to face me. Locks of her hair stuck to her forehead in sweaty clumps, and mascara streaked her cheeks in harsh, shadowy lines. “Nat . . .”
“What’s going on?”
It took me a moment to realize I was the one who had spoken. A knot made its home in my throat, and I was worried if I tried to speak again I’d choke on my own words. Silence bogged down the air. It seemed like time had stopped entirely.
“I got back a little while ago. I came into the bathroom to take my makeup off.” Stella choked back a sob. “I don’t know. I found him like this. I don’t know what he’s taken, or—”
She sniffed and turned away, like despite all of this she was still terrified of looking like she cared. That really was the problem, wasn’t it? We all cared too much, and it was killing us.
I stumbled forward into the bathroom and looked down at Brooklyn, his blue eyes wide and glassy, pleading and beckoning me closer. The bathroom felt like it was getting hotter, the air stale and heavy. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping with every ounce of my being that when I opened them I’d be back in bed. I balled my hands into fists, letting my fingernails dig into my palms.
But when I opened my eyes, Stella was still crying, Alec was still trying to catch his breath, and Brooklyn was still sitting on the bathroom floor, shaking and sweating and high. My palms stung as I released my shaking hands.
“Something’s wrong.” Alec’s voice penetrated the silence. “He’s cold. He’s really cold.”
Brooklyn’s body trembled, and his lips began to turn a sickly shade of blue. I tried to move forward but I had lost all feeling in my legs, in my arms, in my face. My head was spinning.
“What are you guys doing?” My voice shook as my nerves kicked into overdrive. “We have to take him to a hospital.”
Nobody would say the words, but I knew. Murphy’s Law—that anything that can go wrong will go wrong, andeverythingwas going wrong.
“Stella,” Alec said with panic rising in his voice. “Stella, stop trying to protect him. Go wake up your parents.Now.”
Stella nodded and exhaled a shaky breath. Without a word she backed out of the bathroom and bolted out of the suite.
Alec moved his gaze to me. “Call 911.”
