Chapter 30

thirty

AVOCADO TOAST

T he first thing I notice is my splitting headache. Followed closely by panic as I realize I can’t remember where I am or how I got here.

I slowly open my eyes, blinking against the harsh bright lights that make my headache even worse. A small sound of pain escapes my mouth and a large warm hand holds mine. “Xander?”

“I’m here, Em,” his low voice reassures me, but it’s coming from too far away for him to be the one holding it.

“Lights,” I murmur.

Footsteps sound and I open my eyes slowly and it isn’t so bright anymore. I sigh and look around to see both of my brothers and my dad surrounding my bed. The walls are white and stark, and the bed I’m lying in is connected to all sorts of machines.

“What is happening?” I ask, panic making my voice rise.

My dad squeezes my hand in his and my eyes fill with tears. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re okay. You’re in the hospital.”

I clear my throat. “Why?” I shift in the bed and my whole body is sore, but not like I got into a car accident .

“How much of last night do you remember?” Tate asks.

Confusion fills my mind as I try to remember. I shift in bed until I’m sitting up. My stomach feels sensitive, and my head spins, but it clears after a moment. “I was with Megan. Is she okay?”

“She went home last night,” my dad explains.

At least there’s that. “We went out for Becca’s birthday dinner.” Tears fill my eyes. “Megan told me a bunch of stuff in the car about Becca and then she was being weird at dinner,” I trail off and then it all gets hazy.

My dad nods, a sad smile on his face. “That’s right, sweetheart. Your drink was spiked while you were at dinner.”

I blink slowly, but no matter how many times I repeat what he said, it makes no sense. “I was drinking iced tea.”

My dad sighs. “I know. That’s why you and Megan were able to realize something was wrong so quickly and got you help so quickly. You’re okay now, just very hungover.”

I groan because the headache and weak stomach make a whole lot more sense.

“But why drug me? And who did it?”

All four men trade looks, no one wanting to be the one who answers the question. All eyes land on my dad and grunts. “The police are still investigating,” he assures me and I feel the color drain from my face.

“The police?”

My dad nods his head. “It’s an incredibly serious offense. Even without anything else happening.”

Horror washes through me. “Did…”

“No!” Xander yells from across the room. “Megan locked you both in the bathroom until I got there. Nothing happened.”

Relief replaces the horror, but there’s this lingering discontent that I can hardly remember anything. To realize something could have happened and I’d have no idea about it.

“So the police are involved?”

My dad nods and then continues, “They do have two main suspects though. They believe it was Becca’s boyfriend and his cousin who planned and his cousin was the one to execute it.”

Bits of the night come back into focus. Jeremy was there. I’d ordered my drink and Becca was trying to convince me to get a real drink for her birthday and when I didn’t want to, Jeremy left the table.

“But why?”

They all exchange looks again, dread building in the silence. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.”

The question I really want an answer to, I’m not brave enough to ask. Was Becca a part of it? Did she know what they were going to do?

As if our conversation summoned them, there’s a knock on the door and two officers walk into the room. They introduce themselves and for some reason Xander seems immediately on guard, moving closer to the bed as they walk in.

“It’s nice to see you looking much better today,” one of the officers says. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“I don’t remember much,” I answer honestly.

He gives me a kind look. “That’s okay. That’s pretty standard for these types of situations.”

By the time they finish their questions, I only have more of my own. They won’t tell me much because the investigation is still ongoing. And I’m thankful when they finally leave.

My dad follows them out into the hallway and a nurse comes in. “When can I leave?”

She smiles and lifts up a chart from her hand. “Here to discharge you now. ”

Thank god. The longer I’m here the more real this whole situation feels.

Turns out coming home doesn’t help me feel much better either.

It’s almost easy to pretend nothing out of the ordinary happened. I feel hungover and slightly miserable, but nothing crazy. But then, it’s impossible to ignore the way my dad, brothers, and Xander are all fretting over me.

When we get to the house, they try to get me to go back to sleep as if half the day is already over.

“You guys, I’m not sick,” I remind them. “I’m not going to break. I feel okay.”

“You don’t look okay,” Zac mutters and I actually consider flipping him off.

Maybe I could throw something at his face? Might make me feel better.

“Ignore him,” Xander growls, throwing him a dirty look. “You look great.”

Zac snorts, “Don’t lie just because her best friend turned out to be a psychopath.”

Everyone in the room glares at him and I knew they knew more than what they were telling me. I can’t even bring myself to care about the comment about Becca.

I’ve seen Zac hungover a hundred times, and he isn’t exactly winning any beauty pageants either. “Zac?” I ask as sweetly as I can and he looks at me suspiciously. But once I have his full attention, I drop my smile. “Will you fuck off?”

My dad spins on his heel, covering his face with his hand as the doorbell rings and he excuses himself to go answer it .

Neither Xander nor Tate are nearly as subtle, both cracking up.

“She really is hungover. Shit,” Zac complains, but the corners of his lips curl up.

“I want food.” My stomach grumbles as if to punctuate the statement.

“Perfect timing,” Isla sings as she practically skips into the living room, bags of food in her hands. It smells delicious, but her normally dulcet voice sounds like nails on a chalkboard and I close my eyes as if it can somehow block out the sound.

“Too loud,” Tate warns and Isla winces, miming zipping her lips shut.

“We brought hangover food,” she says softly, and Torryn and the guys come in carrying more bags. They put them on the kitchen counter.

Zac walks into the kitchen and starts taking things out and opening different boxes. Torryn slaps his hand away from it but he flips her off. “I’m finding something for the little demon,” he snaps. “She nearly took my head off a moment ago.”

Torryn weighs his words and then shrugs. “Probably well earned.”

“He did tell her she looks like shit,” Xander helpfully pipes in and Tate throws him a dirty look.

Wait what? Are the two of them fighting? Did I miss even more while I was knocked out?

“Okay, whoa,” Zac defends. “I said she didn’t look okay because she was trying to say she’s fine.” He piles a plate with chicken and waffles. Normally my favorite but when he puts it in front of me, my stomach instantly turns and it’s almost as if I can feel the will to live slowly draining from my body.

Torryn quickly snaps the plate up and moves it across the kitchen .

“And she just made my point,” Zac mutters. “Definitely not okay.”

My dad chuckles from behind everyone. “It’s like the worst hangover you can imagine. I’m not surprised she’s not up for anything heavy.” He looks over all the options they brought with a raised brow. They clearly ordered everything off the brunch menu. “Anything lighter in these bags?”

“How about some avocado toast?” Beau offers. “Healthy fats, some carbs, add a little extra salt on top to absorb whatever is left in your stomach.”

Baylor gives him an appreciative, if somewhat surprised, look. “That works?”

Beau nods, taking the chicken waffles and digging into them. Sadness fills me that I can’t eat them. They really are my favorite. “I know my hangover foods.”

“Write that down,” Baylor whispers to Torryn.

Xander takes over poking through the bags until he finds the avocado toast and carefully sprinkles salt on the top before bringing it to me. “I also bought you some Gatorades,” he says and I’m too tired to care about hiding us anymore. I just want him to sit next to me and hold me. “I’ll grab you one. Yeah?”

I tilt my head in acknowledgment, not quite able to manage a nod yet. I pick at the avocado toast and while I can’t say it tastes good, it doesn’t make me want to vomit. A win. I get most of it down and almost the entire bottle of gatorade while everyone else eats the rest of the food and chats.

They ask me questions and check in on me, but there are a lot of exchanged looks over my head and I know I’m not fully keeping up with the conversation.

Or maybe not keeping up with it at all.

Maybe I do need that nap.

“Alright, Em,” Xander whispers in my ear and I’m suddenly lifted from the chair, my head leaving the cool countertop and I let out a noise of protest. I hadn’t even realized I was laying my head down. “You need more rest.”

“He’s right, Emery,” my dad scolds. A tone I rarely ever hear from him. “I’m going to meet with the lawyers but I’ll be back in a few hours. Call if you need me.”

“We’ve got her,” Tate promises, but my eyes are already drifting back shut as Xander carries me to my room. I curl up against his chest and he’s so tense. I want to make him feel better, but I know nothing I can say will draw him out of the dark places his mind has wandered to.

“I’m okay,” I whisper and he kisses my nose.

“Of course, you are. My brat would never let something like this slow her down.” He’s trying, but he can’t mask the pain in his voice.

“What kind of brat would I be?” I joke with him. Maybe we both need to pretend.

“My brat, always,” he says, tucking me into my bed and kissing my forehead.

A throat clears from behind him but I’m already drifting off to think too much about it.

I wake up to the sound of arguing. This time my head doesn’t feel like it was used for an ax throwing contest. Just an archery contest.

Still painful, but bearable.

Climbing out of bed doesn’t take all my strength like it did this morning and I’m starting to move and think a little more clearly. Now that the fog is lifting, I can appreciate how much it was impacting me this morning.

There are even more people here now than when I fell asleep and I huff a laugh when I see homemade muffins sitting on the dining room table. They look so good.

“Why is everyone standing by the door?” I ask. There are way too many of them to be crowded in the entryway.

They part like the red sea and I find Xander and Megan blocking the front door from allowing Becca in the house. That explains the arguing.

I move forward, trying to get my brain to catch up with the scene in front of me. Her eyes are swollen and ringed red, her lips chapped and bleeding in small places as if she chewed the skin right off them. Her hair is a mess in a way I’ve never seen it before and there’s not a lick of makeup on her face.

“Emmy,” she cries when she sees me, tears spilling down her cheeks and I step back, putting my hands up in front of me like that would actually help protect me from anything.

Colby’s arms wrap around me and both my brothers step in front of me, not allowing her to see me. Tears fill my own eyes as I realize what I’ve lost.

Without having to hear it, I know. I know she was a part of what happened to me last night. Everyone here knows it. The pain in my chest is nearly all consuming and my throat begins to feel like it’s swelling. The air coming in feels like it has to pass through thick sludge before reaching my lungs.

“You’re not talking to her,” Megan warns, her voice harder than I’ve ever heard it.

“Her dad is getting a restraining order as we speak,” Xander growls and my throat tightens a bit more and the air I’m getting feels even heavier. My dad wouldn’t do that without proof. He’s known Becca for years, watched her grow up. He knows how much that friendship meant to me.

“That’s ridiculous,” Becca screams. “I didn’t even do anything! I’m her best friend. ”

My vision starts to blur and the scene in front of me starts to waver.

“Not any more.” I latch onto Megan’s voice, picturing her dark hair and the fur lined leather jacket she was wearing last night. The way the dark material contrasted with her pale skin. It would be fun to incorporate into a photo shoot. Somewhere snowy.

Becca shrieks and it breaks the picture I was painting in my head. “It was just an accident. We didn’t know it would affect her that way. She was just supposed to lighten up. Actually have some fun for once.”

I’m vaguely aware Xander is close to losing control of his anger when he shouts, “You could have killed her!” My own body shakes and my eyes grow heavier. My throat getting tighter and tighter with every word out of her mouth until barely any air is getting in at all.

“It was an accident,” she screams again, stomping her foot and attempting to push past them to get to me. “Just drop the charges,” she demands, and my body turns cold. “It was a silly prank. There was no need to take it so far.”

I can’t feel my fingers. Dizziness swirls and I’m barely aware of Colby cursing at my side. She rarely ever curses. It makes me feel better since I tend not to. “She’s having a panic attack.”

Xander curses at Becca, blaming her. “You’re lucky I won’t hit a woman.”

“I will,” Megan says, and my brothers move just in time for me to watch her take a step back, pulling her fist all the way back before slamming it into Becca’s face. I gasp and the shock of air helps bring the room back into focus.

“Good,” Colby praises. “Now do it again.” I focus on her face, the freckles on her nose and cheeks and realize they crawl up to scatter over her forehead as well. I’ve never noticed that before. She breathes deeply, motioning with her hands for me to follow her lead. I match her pace, counting her freckles and ignoring whatever is happening outside my house now.

Becca continues to scream and Tate gets involved, his pissed off and commanding voice somehow soothing amidst all the chaos. He never uses that voice on me.

Warm arms wrap around me and I curl into Xander’s chest, breathing him in deeply. My body finally relaxes in his hold. After a few moments of him and Colby both murmuring to me, I finally open my eyes. I hadn’t realized I had shut them.

“How are you feeling?” Xander asks and my heart breaks a little more as I realize how not okay I really am.

“Sad,” I whisper, tears filling my eyes as I bury my face in his chest, sobs wracking my body as he holds me. Sad doesn’t even really begin to cover all the tumultuous emotions ricocheting through my heart, ripping pieces of it off, and carving new scars into the tattered flesh.

“I know, baby girl. But I’m here,” he promises. “You have a lot of people here for you.”

I do. It doesn’t make the betrayal hurt any less, but it gives me something I desperately need right now. Hope that it won’t always hurt this much.

Becca had once been my hope that the grief of losing my mom wouldn’t consume me whole. That I would still be able to have fun and have a new life in this new city.

But these guys? They give me hope that I’ll never be alone in the pits of my despair, and always have someone to share the brightest moments with. Hope for a place outside of my family where I can truly be myself and shine with the things that make me, me.