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Idressed in a baggy red t-shirt a size too big for me and short black booty shorts. I slipped my feet into a pair of boring white ankle socks that were like a pair of tight hugs for my feet. I pulled on a thick black cardigan and left the buttons undone.
The guys had already gone downstairs and left me to get ready on my own. For once I did not wish to be on my own and left to my own devices. No matter what Quinton said, I couldn't stop thinking about everything that had happened, and when tears started to well up and I feared they might begin to fall, I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood.
The taste was horrible and sparked something awful inside me. My hand flew to cover my mouth and I raced to the bathroom. My knees hit the floor with bruising force. I scrambled to lift the lid off the toilet and started heaving. The problem was, I didn't have anything but liquids inside of me to come out.
I bent over the toilet, clutching the toilet seat in a death grip that turned my knuckles white, and I dry heaved. The bitter taste of bile burned the back of my throat, and this time when the tears came I didn't so much as even try to stop them. I hated puking, and for whatever stupid reason the tears always came every time I vomited.
"Fuck," Tyson grumbled miserably as he knelt down beside me. I had been so engrossed with getting sick that I hadn't heard him coming. With gentle hands, he pulled my wet hair back from my face and held it away. His free hand slid underneath my cardigan and he smoothed his palm up and down my back along my t-shirt in soothing motions. "Get it all out, pretty girl."
I winced at hearing his softly spoken words. There was nothing to get out and I didn't feel very pretty at the moment. Tyson must have mistook my wince, because he pulled his hand out from between my tee and cardigan. The hand holding my hair fell away and the tangled mess dropped back down into my face once more. He scooted away from me and whispered in a broken voice, "Sorry. So sorry. I shouldn't have touched you. I know better. I'm so stupid. So goddamned stupid. If I were you, I wouldn't want me to touch you either."
Shit.
Of course he'd take it like that. Our last meeting hadn't exactly been all hearts and flowers.
I flushed the toilet and sat back against the wall. Well, more like slumped, but that was all I had the energy for. I swiped across my mouth with the back of my hand and grimaced. I needed mouthwash and to maybe take another shower. And then maybe I could douse myself in bleach just for shits and giggles because I figured I might need it.
Tyson cursed quietly under his breath and pushed himself up to his feet. He pulled the black washcloth hanging on a hook by the sinks down. He turned on the faucet and ran the washcloth underneath the water. The water shut off with a twist of his wrist and he wrung out the cloth, making sure it didn't drip water all over the place.
I closed my eyes and placed my hand atop my still churning stomach. The damp washcloth pressed lightly against the corner of my mouth and my eyes snapped right back open.
"Here," Tyson murmured. "Take it so I don't have to touch you and make this harder for either one of us."
I absolutely did not take the washcloth away from him. I didn't so much as twitch a muscle. My eyes locked with his defiantly. He sighed, giving up, and began wiping my face clean. The cool, damp cloth actually felt really good against my fevered skin.
After a few moments, he dropped his hand away and threw the cloth toward the sink. It landed on the counter with a wet plop and stayed there.
I didn't know how the house was so clean when none of these boys outside of Dash ever seemed to pick up after themselves.
Tyson moved as if to get up, but my hand shot out and I wrapped my fingers tightly around his wrist. He stilled and his eyes bounced between my eyes and the taut hold I had on his wrist.
He cleared his throat uneasily. "Don't make this any harder on the two of us than it needs to be. You're home safe and I'm glad for it, it means everything to me. We're family and that's not ever going to change—"
Was he breaking up with me?
Oh, hell no! I so did not think so.
"Annabell is dead," I said bluntly. "Adrian killed her in front of me, and sometimes when I close my eyes, I can feel her blood spraying across my face. I have an immense amount of guilt over this that Quinton tells me is stupid, but it's not like I can simply flip a switch and shut my feelings and emotions off. I just can't do it and I'm all fucked up in the head now. And... And..."
To my absolute horror, my voice cracked. I swiped angrily at the hot tears falling down my face again. Damn it all to hell and back, I was sick and tired of crying or wanting to cry all the time.
"And it's my fault, Ty. Quinton and I agreed to keep it from everyone so that no one from our family went running in trying to save the day. But what if I made the wrong choice? What if I had made a different decision and she'd still be alive and—"
Tyson's hands went to my thighs and he picked me up and hauled me over into his lap. He wrapped his arms around me tight and shoved his face in my neck.
"Stop talking, girl. Please just stop."
Now that was familiar, and he sounded a whole lot like his uncle telling me to shut the fuck up earlier.
"I don't care if Annabell's dead. She's been dead to me for a long damn time. I don't care how she died and I don't care why she's dead. I'd watch five hundred thousand Annabell's get their throats slit if it meant you were safe in my lap where I could hold you, and in one piece. Fuck Annabell."
I had heard this as well.
I wrapped my arms around Tyson's neck and clung to him like a baby koala clinging to its mama.
"Fuck, Ariel. I'm so sorry. So fucking sorry. I can't believe I talked to you like that. I'll never be able to forgive myself for it. Not ever. I was so hurt, thinking you were just going to walk away from us so easily, walk away frommelike that. My heart broke into a million pieces right there on the spot. It felt fucking awful, Ariel. I hadn't felt that bad whenshecast me aside or even when my mother and my father passed away. This was different. You're my future, beautiful girl, and I saw that future, finally bright for the first time in a long damn time, go right down the toilet. I snapped. It's not right and you'll never know just how much."
I sat back and unhooked my arm from around his neck. I covered his mouth with my hand, wishing I had brushed my teeth after all the dry heaving I'd done so I could maybe cover his mouth with my mouth instead of my hand. I couldn't do it now, because that'd be nasty and poor Tyson Alexander didn't deserve to inhale my vomit breath and suck on my bitter tasting tongue.
