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I sit on the chintz bedspread and think, playing with my dad’s old knife. I twist my wrist to float the blade out and back again, running through the tricks I know mindlessly, repetitively. The blade slices through the air with a sound like scissors, tucking in and out of the handles, flashes of silver in the dark like a coin turning underwater.
The knife feels like a part of my hand. I’ve had it all my life. I haven’t cut myself in years, even when I play with it drunk.
At this moment, I’m stone cold sober.
I’ve been using too much. Trying to escape the wave that washed over me the moment I lost Adrik.
I’m trapped in this deep, dark coldness. The drugs keep me asleep. Every time I wake and draw breath, water rushes in and I drown all over again.
Alone in this hotel room, I’m drowning and drowning and drowning.
Seeing Adrik tore me apart all over again.
He walked in like a warrior, radiating power and confidence. Krystiyan was a fool to step in front of him—anyone could see that no one could stand before him.
He cut Krystiyan’s throat with the knife I gave him. Then he threatened me with that same knife, my fucking gift to him, my words on the handle.
His face was a mask of anger and disdain.
He barked at me to come with him—not a request, an order.
He hasn’t changed at all.
Except that he hates me now.
I know how weak I was in that moment. He looked so confident, so ferocious. Everything in me was crying out for his touch. If he would have said a word of kindness or apology, if he even said he missed me … I would have melted in an instant.
He didn’t say it, because that’s not how he feels.
He only wants me back out of pride.
I flick the knife out again. This time it knicks the edge of my index finger.
I look at the bead of blood, bright as a jewel.
I can’t feel the cut, not even when I raise my finger to my mouth and suck on it. It tastes of copper.
I’m going home … you should do the same …
Going back to Chicago is quitting.
I’m a lot of things … but I’m not a fucking quitter.
Adrik thinks he’s won? I’m not even close to done yet.
There’s nearly full batches ofMolniyaandMechtatcomplete at the lab. The Wolfpack might have cleared it out, but if not … those drugs are worth a lot of money.
I close my knife and set it on the nightstand.
In the morning, I’ll see what I can salvage.
* * *
42
ADRIK
Need to Change – Landon Tewers
