Chapter Nineteen

Amara

T he rest of the day had been daunting. She was still so emotional and hurt after her run-in with Drake that she’d barely paid attention to what the day had to offer. Honestly, she had not planned on breaking things off with him in the manner that she did, but she didn’t see any other option. She stood by what she said, and no amount of time was going to change things. All it would do was string her along, allowing her to get more attached, only to have him continuously hurt her.

It was the right thing to do, even if it devastated her.

She didn’t want to go home. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why she was taking her time to close up the shop. The last thing she wanted to do was face her father after the day she had. But with nothing left to do, she sighed, gathered up the trash, and headed out the back to throw it away in the community dumpster.

The cooler air raised the hairs on her arms. She lifted the lid on the dumpster and tossed the garbage inside. When she turned around to head back inside, she spotted someone on the ground. At first, she froze, remembering the last time she encountered someone in the alley and how that went. But when she realized that this person wasn’t moving, she squinted into the dark shadows to take in the person’s features. She recognized those shoes. The thick, muscular thighs that showed even through jeans. And even though he was lying on the ground and his head was tilted in the opposite direction, she’d know that hair anywhere.

A hand flew to her mouth, and she took off toward the shadow, toward her mate. By the way Knox was positioned, it appeared as though he was trying to get to her shop when he collapsed.

She reached his side and dropped to her knees. “Knox!” she demanded, fisting his shirt and giving him a shake. When he didn’t respond, she took him in. He was still breathing, still had a pulse, but when she pried open his eyes, she realized that his pupils were the size of pinpricks. She knew in an instant that he was overdosing.

“Shit,” she hissed. “God damn it, Knox.” Digging into her pocket, she pulled out her phone. “You promised not to do this shit anymore.”

Quickly, she brought up Zeke’s number. She figured he should probably know what was going on before she called an ambulance. She dialed his number and brought it up to her ear. Zeke answered after the second ring.

“Hey, Princesa,” he purred. Chatter and music were playing in the background, so she knew he was at the bar.

“Zeke, you need to get down here. I think Knox is ODing.” There was an edge of urgency in her tone that made her even more scared. Her voice cracked with fear. There wasn’t any time for pleasantries, not when her mate’s life was on the line.

“Fuck,” she heard him mutter. “Where are you?”

“In the alley. Like, ten feet from my back door.”

“Don’t move, I’m coming.” He hung up the phone, leaving her alone with Knox’s unconscious body.

She shoved her phone back into her pocket. She wanted to shake Knox again, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. He was out, and Zeke told her not to move him. All she could do was sit there and whisper to him softly. “I swear, if you live through this, I’m going to kill you myself for what this is doing to me.”

The bar’s backdoor swung open and Zeke and Drake rushed out. They immediately spotted them and jogged over. Zeke was the one who dropped to his knees beside Amara, and he popped off a cap from a weird-looking syringe. A second later, he shoved the sponged tip up one of Knox’s nostrils and depressed the plunger. When he was done with that one, he did the same to the other side with a second syringe.

Amara rocked back and forth on her knees, her heart racing. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this afraid, not even when her father would raise his fist. She had only just found Knox, just accepted him and the bond between them, and she didn’t want to lose him now.

“Did you know he was using tonight?” Drake asked accusingly to Amara.

She looked up at him in disbelief, her cheeks hot and slick with tears she hadn’t realized she was shedding. Swiping them away, she growled, “Fuck you, Drake. I’m the one who asked him to stop using. And for the record, I wasn’t the one with him tonight. Where the fuck were you?”

Drake’s jaw flexed as he looked away .

“Fighting is pointless,” Zeke scolded as he tapped Knox’s cheek. “This is no one’s fault but his.”

Knox’s head lolled around, but they could hear the rumblings of a grumble in his chest.

“Is he going to be okay?” Amara asked.

“Yes,” Zeke answered softly, calmly, as if this had happened before.

She asked them exactly that.

“Unfortunately,” Drake grumbled.

Amara folded her fingers into Knox’s. “How long is he going to be like this?”

“The Narcan will help counter the effects of the drug,” Zeke explained, glancing once at Amara and Knox’s hand. His fingers were limp against hers.

Zeke raised a sad smile to her and added as he stood, “But he will be out of it for a little while. Let’s get him upstairs.”

Amara swiveled on her heels to Drake, her eyes set in determination. “I’m not leaving him.”

Lips thinned, Drake considered her carefully, and he must have seen the conviction in her expression because he subtly nodded. Satisfied, Amara let go of Knox’s hand.

Drake and Zeke lifted Knox off the ground by first pulling his arms so he sat in a lop-sided sitting position. Then they gathered him up from underneath his arms. Knox seemed to be coming around a bit as the four of them headed toward the bar’s back door. Amara hurried forward and opened the door for them. They rushed inside, went through the bar, ignoring the curious glances, and took the stairs up to the apartment.

Once again, she opened the door, and they went inside, immediately heading toward Knox’s room. She shut the door behind them and locked it.

They laid Knox down on the bed, and Amara shoved around Drake to sit on the edge next to him. She watched his eyes flutter open, though he didn’t seem to be taking in much. He was definitely still out of it.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she muttered to him, brushing loose strands of his hair away from his forehead and then taking his hand once more.

“He probably can’t hear you,” Drake said softly.

Amara sighed heavily. The emotions of the day and what had transpired were weighing heavily on her. It was a crushing force that made her breathe heavily. She burst into tears. Her sobs filled the room as she laid her head on Knox’s chest, begging him in whispers to come back to her.

“I’m going to get her some water,” Zeke said to Drake. “Will you . . .”

Zeke’s footsteps headed down the hall, and the next thing she knew, the bed dipped as Drake sat beside her. It took a moment, but his hand tentatively came to rest on her thigh. “He’s going to be okay.”

“You were right,” she said in between sobs. “You were right. I ruin everything.”

“This has nothing to do with you,” he murmured. “Drugs are a bad habit to break, and this isn’t the first time we’ve found him like this. I’m just sorry you had to see him at his lowest.”

She shook her head and tightened her grasp on Knox’s filthy shirt. “It is my fault. All the emotions due to the bond, on top of the stuff he’s dealing with about his past . . . It was too much for him.” She sniffled and angrily wiped her cheek. “I never should have agreed to this. I should have left well enough alone.”

“Agreed to what?” Drake asked, almost like he was afraid to know the answer.

“I should have never agreed to the bond. I’m messing up your lives. That’s not what I want, and I just . . . I just wanted to feel loved for once in my life. It was incredibly selfish of me.”

He was quiet for the longest time until he scooped her up and settled her on his lap. Tucking her head under his chin, he said, “You’re not messing up anything. It’s our problems that are messing up your life.”

The fact that he had touched her so openly and without being prompted was too much for her to handle. Her sobs increased, and she buried her face in his chest. She knew this wouldn’t last, knew it was only because of the situation that he was being nice to her, but she was going to take what she could get. Reveling in the moment was exactly what she needed.

“You’re wrong. I ruin everything. I’m a screw-up. I’m . . . I’m nothing. Nothing but a whore.”

He tightened his hold, almost protectively. “Don’t talk about yourself that way because it’s not true. You’re everything to Knox. To Zeke.” There was a long pause. “To me.”

Surprised, she lifted her head to look up at him. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered. She wasn’t trying to be mean, but how could she believe that after the way he treated her? He was just trying to be nice due to the situation that they were in.

He pressed a kiss to her tear-stained cheek. “I deserve that,” he whispered back. “I’ll need time to get out of my own head and show you otherwise, and I hope that you give that to me because I never want to see you cry for me like you did today.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she rested her head against his chest as she stared at Knox. Admitting that she cried over him today wasn’t something she wanted to do at that moment. She had cried many times, in fact. Even though she had, she knew he was going through stuff, but he was taking it out on her, and it hurt more than she cared to admit. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She had found her mates, and it was supposed to be the happiest time of her life. Instead, it had only brought her nothing but trouble.

Zeke walked in and stopped at the scene before him. “Did I interrupt something?” he asked when they both looked at him. He held a glass of water in his hand, and perspiration from the outside of the glass dripped onto his fingers.

“No,” Amara said. “Nothing that hasn’t been said before. Can I stay the night with him tonight?” She directed her question to Zeke because she didn’t trust Drake not to kick her out. He said he was trying, but his past actions had told her it was a lost cause. It would be stupid of her to believe him.

Zeke crossed the room and handed her the water. “Of course. I’ll go get you one of my shirts to change into.” He swiped a tear that had gathered at her jaw with a gentle stroke of his thumb. “Do you want a shower?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want to leave him.” There was no way she could do that to him. Despite Drake telling her otherwise, she still felt responsible. She needed to make sure Knox was okay, and the only way she was going to do that was if she never left his side.

In that moment, she didn’t care if her father found out. She didn’t care if he beat the shit out of her for staying out all night again. All she cared about was Knox.

Zeke tucked a hair behind her ear. “Okay. Give me a second, and I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared and came back with a big black graphic T-shirt. “Do you want us to stay too?” he asked when she took it from him .

She didn’t look at him as she said, “I’d like that.” This might be the last time all four of them were together, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud. Instead, she wanted to savor it while she could.

“Little bunny?” Knox’s voice croaked.

Scrambling off Drake’s lap, she moved to where Knox could see her. “I’m here, Knox.” She brushed her hand down his cheek. He pried his eyes open and blinked a few times before his gaze settled on hers.

Weakly, he took her hand in his, and he squeezed as he said hoarsely, “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.”

He scowled a little. “I told you I’d stop. It’s not okay.”

“Don’t worry about that,” she murmured, hushing him a little. “We’ll figure it out. You just focus on resting.” She was trying really hard to be supportive, but a part of her really wanted to shake the crap out of him and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

“It won’t happen again,” he promised, rubbing small, weak circles with his thumb on the back of her hand. “Will you help me get clean?”

She took his hand in both of hers and brought it to her lips, pressing a lingering kiss against his knuckles. “All you had to do was ask. I will do everything I can.”