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Chapter 29
Addie
Asort of numbness overtook me. Surrounded me. Engulfed me like the arms of a lover. The room felt almost swelteringly hot, unbearably hot, and sweat beaded on my forehead.
Voices.
They reached me, but I couldn’t quite grasp what they were saying. It was like trying to hold back the waves in the ocean, pushing at the cresting water with your arms extended: impossible.
Growls. Voices. More growls.
Something sharp jabbed into my skin - a needle, I realized blankly. I felt no pain as the blood was drawn. Honestly, I didn’t think I would even be able to. It was like my body had shut down inch by excruciating inch. Soon, my damn heart would stop beating in my chest, and I would succumb to the darkness encroaching on my vision. The sweet, merciful darkness.
Everything was too much. My senses were on overload. Each sensation, each touch, each voice, was the crack of a whip against my bare skin. Not painful, but demanding. I imagined it would be similar to standing in a crowded room naked, feeling eyes on you but not being able to cover up.
Displayed.
Ridiculed.
Empty.
So I did what I did best.
I went to the place all broken girls and boys go to when reality gets too difficult. My retreat. My oasis. My mind.
My garden.
Behind my closed eyelids, it was exactly how I remembered. Carefully planted roses and tulips intermingled with the shrubbery and manicured grass. There were no weeds, no clouds. Nothing but a bright sun shining down on my own, personal paradise.
I walked down a stone trail, stopping at a white gazebo erected from the ground. Flowers twined themselves into the wooden siding, and a single gray bench, ornately detailed with carved flowers and vines, was directly beneath it.
It was there I sat, relishing in the sunlight and warm breeze. In my garden, it was never too hot nor too cold. The weather was positively perfect, somehow balancing a calming heat and a light wind.
It was safer in the construct of my own mind. Nothing could hurt me there. Death couldn’t reach me, and life didn’t feel so fragile.
“You’ll be okay, Addie,” Tommy said softly, and I glanced towards the left side of the bench. He sat beside me, his fingers interlocked with my own. “Do you need me to kick any asses?”
I felt pressure on my thigh, and I turned to the right. Nik sat on the opposite side of me, his familiar pair of red headphones around his neck. His eyes weren’t on me, but love and warmth emanated from his body in soothing waves.
“You guys are my brothers, my family,” I whispered. Tommy squeezed my hand.
“And you’re ours.”
Before I could respond, they dematerialized into the air.
“How many bikinis do you have?”
The male voice, though familiar, made me jump a foot in the air. I pressed a hand to my heart to calm the racing organ. Snort. As if a hand over my skin could do anything besides provide false comfort.
Ronan moved up the path, his hands in the pockets of his basketball shorts. His green-tipped hair was tousled, unruly, almost as if he had run his hands through it. He smiled deviously at me.
“Bikinis?” I parroted, confused as to where this weird as fuck conversation was going.
His voice raised in a poor impersonation of a valley girl. He twirled a short strand of hair dramatically around his finger, kicking his leg out.
“You need one for masturbating in,” he said in that high-pitched voice.
“One for dangling your toes in…” I whispered.
