“Or maybe I should tell her,” he continued, his voice rising slightly. “Maybe I should walk out there right now and explain to that sweet, stupid girl exactly what her brave Noah has been doing. Who he’s been doing. Isn’t that the fatherly thing to do? The honest thing to do?”
He leaned forward again, his voice dropping to an intimate murmur that made my skin crawl.
“Do you think she’d still want to hold your hand when she knows where it’s been? Do you think she’d cry harder when she realizes that every time you touched her, you were thinking of him?”
“That’s not true,” my voice faltered. “I—”
“It is true,” David was nodding to himself. “You are in love with that prick down the hall. You’ve probably been for a while. You’ve just been using that poor little girl.”
I couldn’t speak. My throat had closed up, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard the monitor was beginning to blink.
“You’re killing her,” he said simply. “Every second you let her love you, you’re murdering her.”
His words shouldn’t have had any weight. But hearing him say that, tore at me like knives. Cut me so deep that I thought I might pass out right then and there.
And he didn’t stop.
“It’s because you’re poison, Noah. Everything you touch turns to shit. Your mother—” He stopped, his jaw tightening.
“Don’t,” I choked out.
“Your mother knows it too. She saw what you were and left. Why isn’t she here instead of me? It’s because she couldn’t stand the sight of you.”
Hot tears burned paths down my cheeks.
“You’re not worthy of that girl,” he continued, his voice sounding like a doctor reading a diagnosis—clinical. “Really, you’re not worthy of anyone. You’re not even worthy of the air you’re breathing, wasting everyone’s time with this... escapade.” He gestured around the hospital room, to the machines, to the TV that flashed my face. “You’re sitting here like you always have been. Pretending you want to heal, when you don’t. We both know you’re already dead inside.”
He reached into his coat pocket then, pulled out a small syringe, and held it between two fingers. It was the kind I’d seen a thousand times on the street. Inside was liquid gold.
Heroin. Probably enough to stop my heart.
“I brought you a gift,” he said, his voice dropping to an almost loving tone. “A gift. For both of you. Already cooked, already drawn up.” He placed the syringe on the bedside table, right next to the water pitcher and the call button I’d never use.
I stared at the drug, longingly. I had only ever done heroin once when I was sixteen. It was my first near death encounter and my first dabble in a rehab facility.
This was the first drug I’d seen in almost a week. And here David was, handing it to me.
“As long as you’re alive, Noah, you’ll keep infecting that girl. You’ll keep spreading your sickness, your filth, destroying everything decent you come across.” He leaned down, his breath hot against my ear. “For once in your miserable life, don’t be selfish. Be a man. Do the right thing. Give her the gift of never knowing what you really are.”
He stood up, smoothing his coat, and looked down at me with something that might have been pity. I wasn’t too sure anymore.
“Who knows,” he added. “Maybe I’ll still tell her everything. Every detail. I’ll break her heart so thoroughly that she’ll never trust or love anyone ever again. I’ll make sure she knows that you chose your own pleasure over her.” He nodded toward the syringe. “Who knows what will be waiting for you if you don’t.”
He walked to the door, paused with his hand on the knob, and looked back at me with that terrible smile.
“It’s your choice.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
I stared at the syringe. The room was suddenly very small, very quiet, except for the beeping machines next to me. I took the syringe in my hands. I stared at it. Who knew for how long. I thought about the life that waited for me outside of this room.
I was scared. Scared to face the reality of Silas and I. Scared to come clean to Delane. Scared to think that there was a world with me in it that could be …good. I wondered if there was any hope for me here at all.
What if I kept dreaming for peace that never came?
What if this was the peace I needed? The rest my body desired.
When the nurses came in to do my vitals, I hid the syringe safely under the sheets, between my palm and the bed. I kept as calm as I could despite the shaking.