28. Eli

Eli

I Want Blood

F uck. Why the fuck did I say that?

I claw at my hair while Phoenix’s car peels away from the parking spot and down the street.

This is it. I’ve ruined it all.

This is why I don’t say what I feel or how I think. I knew the moment I did that he’d see me for what I really am, and now I can’t take it back—I can’t take back the spew of raw sewage I dumped on his heart. Being with him changes nothing. Why did I say it? Why did I destroy him again?

Holding the top of my head and struggling to breathe, I feel my guts shrivel when the studio door opens, all of his friends crowding me. What do I tell them? The truth? Fuck, I think they might kill me. I can’t lie, either. And when Jorge stomps up to me, grabs the collar of my hoodie, and gets in my face, I can’t stop the wobble of my chin.

“What did you say to him?” he snarls. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Woah, calm down,” Devon says, palming his shoulder, but Jorge shakes him off.

“That’s my brother, you asshole. My brother .” His words are sharp and full of protective love.

“I told him the truth,” I say, my voice breaking. “I didn’t want to. But I did. And now he’s gone and…and,” I choke, the air disappearing from my lungs.

“Let him go, Jorge,” Kelly demands, but Jorge doesn’t move away. His hands ball into fists, which I’m sure he wants to throw at my face. “What happened, Eli?” Kelly asks, gentler than she should.

And so, I spill my guts again, trying to repeat it all verbatim so they know the whole story. Michael curses when I get to the part of the story when I tell Phoenix that being with him didn’t change anything. Devon blows out a rough breath, pacing. Kelly is wide-eyed, and Jorge looks ready to kill. Truly. If I survive this, I’ll be shocked. But I don’t stop talking until it’s all out of me, purging all of my darkest thoughts and feelings to people who absolutely hate me.

Instead of beating my ass, Jorge rips his phone out of his pocket, puffing on his vape like a steam engine, and furiously texts someone. I stand there, tears streaming down my cheeks, eyes on the floor. I’m so ashamed of myself. But it was all true. I’m fucked up. Always will be. But I shouldn’t have said it; I should’ve kept it all in like I have my whole life. Phoenix loves me too much not to take it personally. There’s no way in hell he didn’t take it as he doesn’t matter.

Phoenix matters.

He will always matter.

He gives my heart a reason to beat. And he took that life-saving drum with him. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. He always had that part of me. Always. I sniffle loudly, trying to swallow my cries while his friends talk in hushed voices, even though we’re only a handful of feet apart, and I can hear them clearly.

“We need to find him.”

“He’s not going to listen to us.”

“Fuck, he’s going to be destroyed,” that one is Devon.

Jorge is texting like a madman. And when he eventually stops, his eyes flick to mine with enough fire to melt steel. “You,” he points at me, “fucked. Up. Badly.”

“I know,” I rasp. “I know.”

He nods in agreement, brushing his curls off his face. “God damn it.”

“Where is he?” Kelly asks.

“His parents'.”

“He texted you?” I ask, worried.

“No,” he snaps, eyes narrowing into slits. “But…anyway, it doesn’t matter how I know. I just do. He’s at his parents’, and he’ll be back home later.”

“Should we go get him?” Michael asks, raking a hand through his blonde hair.

“Fuck. Probably? I hate this,” Jorge crumbles, and then he cries. “He’s my best friend, and you hurt him,” he slurs, big crocodile tears streaming down his cheeks. “And what’s worse is that I get it. I fucking get it . Okay? Like, the way you feel is valid. Your feelings are valid. But Phoenix.”

Oh my god.

I don’t know what to do. I shift on my feet while Jorge bawls like his dog died. Everyone crowds him, and he greedily accepts all the touching and hugging.

“I hate it when he hurts. He’s my other testicle, you know?” he cries into Devon’s shoulder because he was the first to hug him. “I don’t go anywhere without it. We’re connected.”

I arch a brow, knowing I should be licking my own wounds, but… “Your other testicle ?”

“YES!” Jorge whines. “We’ve been through everything together. I should be comforting him. He needs me whenever you hurt him, damn it. I have to give him platonic cuddles and feed him Oreos. Man, fuck you, Eli. I’m so…so mad at you. I’d kick your ass, but…but…”

“Jesus Christ,” Kelly mumbles. “That’s enough, Jorge. We get it. We all love Phoenix.” Jorge wails again, loudly, like a dying hippo. “Calm down.”

“I…can’t…help…it,” he bellows dramatically.

And I fucking laugh.

I bend over, my laugh so loud that everyone goes silent. It’s horrible, completely inappropriate, but I’ve never seen someone behave like this before, and fuck, if it isn’t hilarious. When I sober up enough to see them all glaring at me, I straighten, wipe my eyes, and grab Jorge’s shoulders. “You, by far, are the best friend anyone could ever hope to have. Please, please , help me fix this,” I tell him, pushing every ounce of conviction into my voice so he knows I mean business.

“But you’re a twat,” he whines.

“I am.”

Jorge sighs dramatically. “What if he doesn’t want you to fix it?”

At that, my confidence falters. He’s right. What if it’s too late? “Then,” I swallow hard, “would you help me do something else?”

I release his shoulders, fumble to get my phone out of my pocket, and pull up my internet searches. I find the website, and when it loads, I hold the screen up for Jorge so he can see it. “Are you for real right now?” he gasps, taking my phone and eyeing it intently.

“Well, yeah. I’ve…researched the place for the last few nights.”

“And you want to do this?”

I nod, stuffing my hands in my hoodie pocket. “I need to.”

“You have to tell Phoenix.”

“He might…he might not care anymore. Not after what I said.”

Jorge shows the rest of his friends my phone, and they all eyeball me like I’ve grown a second head. In unison, they say, “Tell Phoenix.”

Jorge hands me back my phone and says, “We can take you back to Kelly’s, and we can all stay when you do.”

My chest constricts sharply at his offer. “You don’t have to do that,” I whisper, feeling so fucking scared and small.

“Look,” Devon starts, “we all fuck up. Currently, you’re obviously the winner in that category, but this is important. And he deserves to know this is what you plan on doing. Especially since we’re leaving for three months.”

“I agree,” Kelly tacks on.

“Me too,” Michael says.

“You’ve been upfront with us,” Jorge tells me, snagging my eyes from the floor. “And he loves you, Eli. He fucking loves you so damn much it is disgusting. You can’t let him leave the country thinking he doesn’t matter.”

I gulp and nod once. They’re all right.

And I’ve been a monster for too long, been a shitty person for my whole life.

After all that I’ve done and said to Phoenix, he does deserve this, even if he doesn’t care anymore. Even if he’s done with me, I’ll still give him this. It’s all I have left.

It’s my last olive branch.

Tracy: The internet is off.

Elijah, pay the fucking bill.

I’ll tell the police.

I know it was you.

ELIJAH!!!!!

I ’ve ignored her texts for days, but I know I need to do something about her. If I follow through with my plan, if I actually do it, she needs to get out of my house. I can’t keep letting her control me. She can’t prove I was the one who burned down her trailer. There’s literally no evidence other than it was intentional, and considering where she lived and the people who hang out around there, it could’ve been anyone.

That doesn’t help my fear, though.

She could tell them it was me, but where would that leave her? She’s used my house as some twisted staycation while she works her dead-end job and drowns herself in booze. There’s got to be a way to remove her…legally.

She is squatting, after all.

I suck in a breath and text back.

I’m getting you removed from my house. I’ll file all the papers. So, if you don’t want to be dragged through a court process you can’t afford, I suggest you pack up. I’m not paying any of the utilities.

There is also a suspicious amount of drugs within the home. All it would take is one phone call to the police. An arrest for possession with the intent to distribute isn’t taken lightly.

So get the fuck out.

I turn off my phone because I don’t want to see her response yet.

All of Phoenix’s friends linger in Kelly’s apartment, chatting casually while we wait for him to get back. It’s fucking late, and he’s made no show of coming yet. Will he? He doesn’t know we are all here. If I know anything about him, he won’t want to stay at his parents’ overnight. They might be close to an extent, but he’s mentioned before how he feels neglected a lot.

Like he doesn’t matter.

I wince, hating that I am in this spot. The desire to say fuck it all and leave is strong. It’s easier to be a coward and run. My chest tightens, and I remember the look on Phoenix’s face earlier. God, it was the same one he’d made when I told him we were over. I swear there was an audible crack in his being, the fracturing of his heart. I don’t want to keep doing this to him. But at the same time, I also can’t seem to stop.

Swiping my sweaty palms on my pants, I sink further into the couch, dreading his arrival.

It’s going to be bad. I know it. Not only are we ambushing him, but he’s going to have all his pain on full display in front of all his friends. I’d like to think they’ve seen him vulnerable before, but Phoenix hates this kind of attention where he feels like he’s being picked apart. It’s funny because I’ve always hated that kind of shit, which is why I never speak my mind. We are so alike it’s ridiculous.

“He’ll show up,” Jorge says reassuringly.

“Eventually,” I mutter, nervous as fuck.

Jorge has been cuddling with Helios and stuffing his face with pizza. I think he put down an entire pie already. Smells like cheese in here. “You’re doing the right thing. I know it won’t be easy, but trust. You’re doing good, bro.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.”

Kelly pipes in, sipping a Caprisun like a child. “He loves you. We all know that. I think this will make him happy.”

Devon fiddles with his mohawk but nods.

“But after what I said… It’s the truth. No one likes the truth.”

Jorge physically jerks at my words. His olive skin pales like he’s seen a ghost. Weird. Clearing his throat, he says loudly, “He’ll get over it.” We all stare at him because he’s removing Helios and picking his nails. “What?” he barks.

“You’re acting sketchy as fuck,” Michael says to him with a finger pointed.

“Am not,” he huffs. “Stop changing the subject. This is good. Everything is fine . Phoenix will accept it. He’s got to,” he whispers the last sentence, eyes glazing over, then shakes it away like a dazed dog. “ Anyway , what are you going to do about that aunt of yours?”

I swallow and shrug. “Told her to pack her shit, or I’ll take her to court.”

He nods along, seemingly back to normal. “Good. Good. You can probably ask Damien for advice. He is a realtor.”

Yeah, I’m not asking Phoenix’s older brother for a damn thing. Just because he sells houses doesn’t mean he knows how to get rid of a squatter. I doubt that’s in the job description. And besides, his whole family most definitely hates me now. After seeing him run there crying his eyes out. Fuck. I rub my face aggressively, feeling nauseous.

Another hour passes uneventfully before the knob on the front door finally jiggles.

We all freeze, holding our breath as Phoenix slinks inside, his hair hanging in his face and sniffling softly. His eyes slam into mine when he lifts his head. They’re swollen and bloodshot, and he looks awful. I move to stand, but he shakes his head stiffly and goes straight into his room—the door slams and locks.

“Well…fuck,” Kelly murmurs.

“I’ll talk to him,” Jorge says and goes to the door. He knocks. “Let me in.”

Wordlessly, the door opens, Jorge disappears inside it, and then we wait.

And wait.

Their voices are muffled, but Phoenix’s gets progressively louder and louder until I hear his roar, “I DON’T WANT TO SEE HIM!”

Everyone looks at me with pity, and I decide fuck it. Grabbing my suitcase, which I packed while we waited, just in case this happened, I give everyone a once over. “Thanks anyway,” I say, voice cracking.

“He’s just mad,” Kelly rushes out. Devon agrees, “Yeah. He…you know how he gets when he feels backed into a corner.”

Michael walks over to me and grabs my shoulder. “Don’t leave.”

“He doesn’t want me here,” I whimper, chin wobbling. “It’s done.”

“AND YOU’RE BEING A BABY BACK BITCH!” That’s Jorge.

“I’m…gonna go,” I say, heading for the door.

My fingers barely slip over the cool metal fixture when Phoenix’s door flies open, slamming into the drywall. I glance over at him, and his eyes water. “Rehab?” he demands, the word an accusatory question.

Fuck. Jorge told him? Seriously. The man weasels his way behind Phoenix, looking guilty as fuck.

“You’re going to go to fucking rehab when I’m leaving the country? When…when I won’t be here ?” God, his voice right now. It’s so raw and utterly guttural. Like me trying to do better is somehow making it all worse. I can’t do anything right, can I?

What do I do? What do I say? I squeeze the knob tightly and force myself not to blink despite tears welling in the corners of my eyes. “Isn’t that what you want?” I find myself asking.

He snarls, angry and devastated, all mashed into one clusterfuck of emotion. “It isn’t about what I want. You told me, to my face , that you would rather die doing drugs. And now? Now you’re planning on going to rehab, and you didn't tell me? You left me out? What the fuck!”

I flinch at his yell, looking at all his friends for help, but it’s crickets in here. Fucking crickets. “I…I…”

“Make it make sense, Elijah,” his voice booms. “Fucking make it make sense. I can’t keep doing this. I…can’t,” he cries this time, wiping his face.

It makes perfect sense to me. I’m doing this because I keep hurting him…keep hurting myself. Something has to give, right? I can only go on like this for so long before I really do die. There’s no mystery behind what I’m doing to my body, my organs. Yes, I’d rather live in denial because that’s what I know and am comfortable with, but I hate seeing him like this. I hate knowing that it’s my fault.

Always my fucking fault.

My chin tucks to my chest as my shoulders hike up to my ears. Maybe I shouldn’t even try. What’s the point? I don’t have a home, don’t have friends or family. And I highly doubt Phoenix is going to keep putting up with my shit. I wouldn’t. Hell, I haven’t.

In the past, anyone who even tried to get close to me, I promptly gave them the boot. I’ve never wanted another person like I want Phoenix. When I was a kid, I wanted parents, but that ship sailed long ago.

But I can’t say any of this. The words won’t come out. I’m just digging the point of my chin into my body, hoping it’ll open up and hide it. Doesn’t he realize how ashamed I am? I’m fucking nothing but a waste. A goddamn waste. Should’ve been a cumshot. I waste no time deciding. I twist the doorknob and rip open the door.

“Just stop, Eli,” Phoenix scolds me with a cry.

No, Phoenix.

Enough is enough.

I force my legs to move, fleeing his apartment with speed. Lifting my suitcase, I fly down the stairs, with each step taken I gain momentum. This is what I should have done in the first place. Running is second nature to me after spending so much of my life trapped. There’s commotion up the stairs as I hit the bottom, but I don’t stop. Outside, I blink through my tears and keep walking. It’s dark out, minimal cars on the road, and the winter air makes me shiver.

Just when I think I’m in the clear, I hear him. The thunder of his feet clapping against the concrete and his guttural, “ Wait .”

Long fingers curl around my arm, pulling me to a stop. He crowds me, popping whatever personal space I’d carved out for myself, and crushes me to his chest. I let out a loud oof , feeling both numb and overstimulated. I’m shaking, he’s shaking, we’re both fucking crying. This is the raw, ugly truth of our relationship.

Catastrophic. Toxic. Carnage.

“I’m sorry,” he says, face pressed into my hair. “I’m sorry .”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because I can’t stop being a fucking idiot.”

He pulls back a fraction, a hand coming up to brush the tears off my cheek. “I didn’t mean to say it like that,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Shaking his head, he kisses my eyes. Each one. Slowly. God damn him. “Come back inside. Please.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” A ball works in my throat while I recall him screaming at Jorge that he didn’t want to see me.

“I freaked out. I just freaked out. Please just come back in.”

I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, white-knuckling my suitcase handle. “Phoenix—”

“You have to be able to tell me this shit. I can’t take it personally. Can’t…can’t keep being like this. I don’t want to lose you again.”

My mouth parts as I exhale roughly. “Why do you even want to keep me to begin with? Look at what I do to you.”

“I told you,” he says firmly, fighting back sniffles. He brings my hand up to his chest, holding it there. “You’re my heart.”

“And I’m bad for it. That’s why I need to leave. To…to try and be different.”

“I don’t want you to be different.”

“Yes, you do,” I say, attempting to pull my hand back, but he is unmovable. “I’ve only shown you the tiniest bit of how fucked up I am, and you break down. I can recognize it even if you can’t.”

His fingers squeeze my palm, his head shaking adamantly. “This can’t have all been for nothing, Eli. That’s the part that breaks me down. Thinking that everything we’ve been through is for nothing.”

“It will be if shit doesn’t change,” I snap, and he lets go of my hand. Taking a breath and raking at my hair, I fight through the mess in my brain to find the right words. “What I said earlier was the truth. It was shitty and mean, and yeah, I could’ve worded it better, but that’s the reality. It’s what I deal with daily. As long as that’s my life, I’ll never be able to give you what you want. And, fuck, I want to give it to you, Phoenix. I want to so bad, but I just can’t.

“Look at me. Take a good look. I’m skin and bones. My face looks one shade above being a corpse. I’m losing hair. Every day, my hands shake. I’m not the guy you met three years ago. And even then, that guy was a fake. A pretty shell I presented to get you in my bed because you are beautiful. And I selfishly wanted you even though I knew pretty fucking fast you didn’t do casual. You want forever.

“And yeah, I thought I could do it. God knows I tried for you. But I can only fake it for so long, and that’s why everything came to a head at Veronica’s wedding. You whispered that you wanted me forever, and I couldn't breathe. If I keep going like this, I won’t be around to give you a wedding, let alone a proposal. There won't be a forever. I don’t even understand why I feel like I do about you because no one other than you has ever loved me. I pay attention. I listen. I know you love me. I’ve known it for years.

“So just…let me go, baby. For a little while. Allow me to stop hurting you.”

My throat hurts from how much I just spoke, and my chest pounds rapidly while Phoenix simply searches my face. He’s not stupid; he understands what I’m saying, and for once, I feel like I did a good job of explaining myself. It feels like the truth. The truth I should’ve told him a long time ago. It’s painful as all hell because this feels like a breakup despite us not actually being together.

But I’d like to try it one day. I really would.

“I won’t be able to get a hold of you,” he finally croaks.

“Not for the first few weeks, no. It’s part of the program.”

“And after?”

“Depends on how I do,” I tell him honestly.

“But…what if you need me?”

Damn it. I wrap my arms around his neck, holding him as close as possible, and nuzzle into him. “I always need you.”

“Maybe I can ask someone to fill in for me. I think Dark Wing’s—”

“No, Phoenix.”

He trembles in my arms, squeezing me so tight I can barely breathe. “I don’t want to let you go. Not even for a fucking minute.”

“You have to.”

“I know,” he rasps, kissing my cheek, then my chin, and finally settling on my lips. They taste like salt and some kind of tea. “But not tonight. I’m not letting you go tonight.”

“Okay,” I cave.

“You stay with me until I get on that fucking plane. Understand?” He searches my eyes, digging his fingers into my nape.

“I will.”

“Promise me.”

I swallow hard. “I promise, baby.”

“Fuck,” he whimpers and crushes his lips to mine.