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I’m dizzy, and the room spins, landing me back on my ass. I sigh, thinking the person left, and the doorbell rings.
“Fuck, what do you want?” I yell, then crawl over to the hall leading to the front door. My stomach twists, and I moan. I eventually pull myself up to my feet again and rest my forehead on the door, waiting for the spins to stop.
Someone pounds again, and it makes my head throb worse. Who the fuck is here? Seriously, is it the damn police? No one pounds on the door like that. Throwing the door open aggressively, I yell, “What?” Then freeze at what I see.
Gracie's standing there in her panties, shivering and drenched from the rain, covered in mud and, I think shit, based on the smell, with something pink dripping down her chest.
“What the fuck is going on?” I growl, then grip my head. Gracie looks up at me, her gray eyes blank as tears roll down her cheeks.
“Gracie?”
“You win, Ash,” she says in a voice so broken, so quiet. I almost don’t hear her. “I just wanted to say goodbye. I’d call the guys, but I don’t have my phone…”
“Wait? Goodbye? Where the fuck are you going?” I slur, and she shakes her head.
“It doesn’t matter, Ash. Just tell the guys I’ll miss them and cherish our time together, but it was never meant to be long-term.”
“Gracie, stop talking nonsense. I’m not sober enough for this. You’re freezing. Get your ass in here and, for the love of fuck, shower,” I grunt, then walk toward the kitchen, leaving the door open.
I don’t wait to see if she’ll follow. I know she will. The door slams behind me, and I chuckle. Footsteps stomp behind me, and I roll my eyes. Always dramatic. Moving in front of me, she slaps me hard across the face.
“Fuck,” I whine.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she snaps, and I shrug.
“Take your pick, Doll.” Crossing her arms, she presses her tits up, and even though I’m wasted, my dick perks up.
“Are you going to tell me why you look like you’ve been playing in a football lingerie game with a bunch of pigs?” Her nostrils flare, and she shoves my chest, hard.
I go down, but I also bring her with me. My stomach revolts at the stench of her and now me. “Gracie, I’m gonna puke,” I mumble, and she scampers away from me, running to the kitchen, she brings back the garbage can.
I lean up just in time, and she rubs my back in circles, trying to soothe me. “I should hate you,” she grumbles. “Why can’t I just hate you? You have been evil to me, and allowed others to treat me like I’m an animal, not a person. You make me want to die, but I’m still here. Willing to take care of you.” She sighs and takes a seat on the floor next to me.
She’s shaking all over, and I wish I could be the one to help her right now, but instead, I’m an alcoholic piece of shit.
“I want to hate you, Ash. But I don’t think I ever will,” she says with a sigh.
“Go shower, Gracie. I’ll be okay,” I grumble, and she nods, then climbs to her feet.
“I… I don’t know where to go?” she whispers, looking around the huge house. I grunt.
“Pick a room. We have ten bathrooms.” Her gray eyes widen, and she leaves me to explore and hopefully shower. I glance at my clothes and grimace. I place the can back upright and try to remove my jeans. But they are wet now and covered in muck.
I look like a worm on my kitchen floor, but I managed to wiggle enough and pull them off. I’m out of breath and ready to take a nap right here, but I can’t. Gracie needs me, and I have to find out what the fuck happened.
I vaguely remember Bianca and her in the hall. I think they were arguing. I groan and rub my eyes.
I finally manage to pull myself off the floor and strip off my top. I don’t think I’ll even bother washing these clothes. I throw them in the garbage can, check that I’m done, then tie the bag and stumble outside to stick it in the bins.
When I return, I move toward my bedroom and grab Gracie some clothes. My shower is running, and I freeze. Out of all the rooms in this house… she chose mine. I dig in my drawer to find her something to wear. She always had a habit of stealing my hoodies and sometimes sweatpants.
I grab something random and walk to the bathroom. I don’t bother knocking because, honestly, the thought never even occurred to me. It’s my house, and we’ve seen each other naked many times.
“What the hell!” she screeches. “Get out! Please!” I move closer, but the foggy shower door blocks her, so I can’t see much anyway.
“Just finish the fuck up. We have things to discuss,” I grumble, then realize that was me being a dick again. “Sorry, fuck, I’m an asshole. Take your time. Do you need anything?”
“Um, would it be too weird to ask you to hold me? I’m not doing okay right now?” she asks with a sniffle, and my heart aches. I glance down and realize I’m still naked, so I open the door and step inside. The water is scalding, and she won’t look at me.
