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Chapter Twenty-five
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“Hello,” I grumble,sleep heavy in my voice.
“Laken.” The instant I hear Thad’s voice my eyes shoot open, meeting the darkness of the hotel room.
“Thad?” I question, glancing at the clock on the bedside table to see it’s just after one in the morning.
“I’m sorry about the late call. I just needed to hear your voice,” he slurs and in an instant I’m on high alert.
“Have you been drinking?” I question, sitting up in bed before leaning over to switch on the lamp.
“I should have said something,” he goes on without answering my question. “Anything.” There are voices in the background that sound muffled, like Thad is purposely covering the speaker of the phone to keep me from hearing what’s being said.
“Thad, what’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’m nowhere.”
“You’ve been drinking,” I try again, this time as a statement and not a question.
“I might have had a few,” he finally confirms after what feels like an eternity of silence.
“Thad,” I start, not sure exactly what to say. He doesn’t know that I know about his addiction. If he did I doubt he’d be calling me right now.
But before I have the opportunity to figure out my plan of attack he cuts in, not allowing me to continue, “Just listen for a fucking minute.” He waits until he’s sure I’m not going to say anything before continuing, “I shouldn’t have let you leave the way I did. I shouldn’t have been such a fucking pussy. You deserved better than that. You deserve better than me.” His words slur together one after the other like it’s taking everything he has to get them out clear enough for me to understand them.
“Where are you?” It’s my turn to cut him off.
“Fuck, I don’t know.” He chuckles into the phone.
“Is anyone with you?” I pull the phone away from my ear long enough to see the number he’s calling me from. It’s not one I recognize but it’s the same area code as my parents’ so he has to be somewhere in town.
“Nope.”
“I need you to do me a favor. I’m going to have someone come get you. I need you to promise me you will not go anywhere until then.”
“You’re going to come here?” he questions, clearly so out of his mind he doesn’t remember that I’m over a thousand miles away at the current moment. And now is not the time to remind him.
“Promise you’ll stay put.”
“I promise.” His words are thick and slow and if I had to guess he’s verging on the point of passing out, or puking, or both.
“I’m going to hang up now,” I tell him.
“Fuck that. Don’t hang up. I need to hear you.”
“Thad, I need to get you home. Remember. You promised you’d stay there until someone comes to get you.”
“You’re coming to get me,” he says, no question in the statement.
“I’m coming to get you,” I lie, needing to get him off the phone. “Now hang up.”
“I can’t wait to kiss you,” he slurs and even though I know it’s the alcohol talking, a part of me wishes I was there so he could do just that.
“Me too.” I clear the emotion from my throat and press on. “I’m hanging up now.”
“Okay.”
