4. Jed

FOUR

JED

“Fuck my head,” I groaned as I sat up and noticed the bright daylight breaking into the room. “I need to remember my fucking limits and remember when to stop,” I uttered as I turned over and reached for the pillow to place over my head as the jackhammering inside my skull began to take effect. “Alcohol is meant to be fun and a relaxant, not a substitute to join the pains of hell. God….”

I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around the pillow, grabbed my wrist, and squeezed in tightly against my face in an attempt to block out the darkness. I was hoping with all my willpower that I would fall back asleep for even another hour, so the effects of the night before could wane. At least then I could try to force myself to get up and get on with some much-needed tasks I’d planned to do.

I desperately needed to pay a visit to the grocery store—the cupboards and fridge were bare, apart from the last inch of milk in the bottom of the carton and a slice of takeaway pizza, that could probably break in half if I dropped it. It was probably that stale now. It was a good thing I brought no one back here or had any visitors. I’d scare them away for life.

Just like I had with Zane. I reached down to stroke the brightly colored string bracelet I always wore on my wrist—reminiscing about the moment he gave it to me after our first kiss and the night we spent together. It was one of the reasons I ran. The indication of a promise, of maybe there being something more to explore between the two of us. A chance of more than just one fateful, crazy, lust filled moment. I rubbed my fingers around my wrist, needing that second to ground myself—to find a second to avoid those feelings of hate that he didn’t deserve when I paused and bolted upright.

I pulled the pillow away from my head and flung it onto the floor, squinting and ignoring the bolts of pain in my skull and glanced at my wrist, but it was bare me and I instantly began to panic.

Maybe, I’d been playing with it in my sleep and it was mixed within the bedsheets? Maybe as I slipped my hands within the pillowcase, as I squeezed the internal pillow, it’d slid it off?

I quickly threw the covers off and ignored the cold air that flowed across my naked body as I jumped out of bed and instantly regretted my decision. “Fuck that’s cold,” I shouted loudly, wrapping my arms around my body and rubbing all over, hoping it would stop the shaking of my bones. What was I thinking? I shook my head and instantly gulped down a large intake of air harshly grabbing the bed post to stop myself face planting the mattress, or worse still the floor as the dizziness coursed through my head making the room spin around and the sickness overwhelmed me. I steadied myself gulping down large intakes of air and concentrating on my breathing, hoping the nausea would pass as I berated myself yet again before I frantically started pulling the sheets off. I stopped every few seconds to compose myself before I carried on stripping the covers until the whole bed was bare. It was only then it hit me as parts of the night began to reply in my head. I slumped my ass down on the edge of the bed and cradled my face within the palm of my hands. How could I have done that? Surely, I didn’t…. “I had it last night when I left…,” I began as I closed my eyes hoping the darkness and limited pressures on my mind and headache would bring the memory forward. “I remember twisting it as I walked past the tattoo shop and up to the center where…” I paused suddenly as my breath became heavy and ragged—not for a positive reason, either, and removed my hands from my face. “I didn’t go to the Christmas Wishing Tree, did I? I remember picking up the star and—” I uttered as I opened the drawer by the side of the bed and quickly slid my feet through and pulled up my boxer shorts before throwing all the sheets and bedding back on the bed. “Where the fuck are is it? Where’s my bracelet?” I yelled, scanning the room looking for my jacket that I wore from the previous night. “I… I had the protective star and message in my pocket. I have to still have it… the bracelet. No…”

I paused when I saw my jacket laying over the arm of the chair and quickly made my way across, grabbing it between my hands as I placed my hands into the pockets, pulling them inside out to only find them empty.

“Fuck!” I throw my jacket back onto the chair before sliding my ass onto it. “I must have… oh God, I haven’t done that, have I?” I groaned out loud. “How could I be so stupid?” I began to freak out. “Anyone can go and view those wishes. How could I have gone and wrote that? What if someone figures it out it was me?”

What if he realizes that it’s me? My hangover now being the least of my worries, I suddenly became perfectly aware of my situation. The clear focus shocked me to the core as the thoughts struck me one after another. If someone discovers it’s me then everything, I’d hidden away for so long was for nothing. All that pain and suffering I’d inflicted on myself to protect my heart and, the possibility of potentially losing my family, would be wasted. I can’t believe I had written my innermost personal desires and wants for the public to see, but couldn’t admit them to the people I needed for it to become true. Could he understand why I’d been the fucked-up guy around him—pushing him away and showing hate at every opportunity when we were alone?

I’d honestly truly gone and fucked up big time, and I didn’t know how I could rectify it without being caught red-handed.