Page 16 of A Million To Fall

But I’m dragged under again.

It keeps happening: voices breaking through the dark, hands on my skin. Cassie. Bronx. My mom.

I surface for a second.

Then slip.

Like I’m trapped under tar, trying to claw my way out.

“Boss? Boss!”

Tiny hands pat my face when I finally force my eye open.

Cassie’s face fills my vision.

“Mommy!” Bronx cries. His voice is too loud, shrill in my ears. My skull pulses in protest.

My mom rushes in. “Oh god, Boston.”

She clambers onto my bed, then flings her arm across my chest and sobs into my shoulder.

“Are you okay?” Bronx asks me, patting my mom’s back.

“Yeah,” I croak.

Lie of the fucking century.

I feel like I got trampled by a herd of elephants. Every millimeter of me throbs. But Bronx doesn’t need to know that.

Cassie studies my face, her eyes darting from one aching spot to another. “You don’t look okay.”

I hate that they have to see me like this.

“What time is it?” I rasp.

My mom lifts her head, her eyes bloodshot and puffy. “Just after seven.”

“In the morning?”

She stifles a fresh sob. “Evening, baby. You’ve been asleep all day.”

All day?

I sit up slowly. Nothing feels broken, but I’m sore all over. My left eye won’t open. My jaw, nose, and cheek throb like they have their own heartbeat. My mouth is still filled with the coppery taste of blood.

I stand.

Huge mistake.

The room spins so violently I have to grab on to the doorframe.

“Careful, baby,” my mom says.

I shuffle into the hallway, every step a new kind of pain.

“Where’s Eddie?” I ask.

“Gone,” she whispers, following close behind with a hand on my back.