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After We Fell

Page 31

by Anna Todd


  “Where the fuck is Tessa?” I tighten my grip.

  Dan’s face is already turning a nice shade of pink, and he makes a pathetic choking sound instead of answering. I clamp my fingers tighter.

  “If you hurt her in any goddamn way, I will beat every last breath from your body,” I curse.

  He kicks his feet, and I look up at the guy he was standing with.

  “Where is Tessa Young?” I ask the kid, who just raises his hands in surrender.

  “I don’t . . . I don’t know her, man. I swear!” the pussy yells, backing away as I continue to strangle his friend.

  Dan’s face has turned from pink to purple. “Are you ready to tell me?” I ask.

  He nods frantically.

  “Fucking talk!” I shout, letting go of him.

  “She’s . . . Zed.” He manages to mutter along with a strained and hollow-sounding cough the moment I remove my hands from his neck.

  “Zed?” My vision goes black as all my fears suddenly materialize. “He put you up to this, didn’t he.”

  “No. Zed didn’t have anything to do with it,” Molly says, stepping out from one of the rooms along the hallway. “He didn’t. I mean, he heard Steph talking about doing something, but I don’t think he thought she was serious.”

  I look at Molly with wild eyes. “Where is she? Where’s Tessa?” I ask for the hundredth time. Each second that I don’t see her, each moment that I’m not assured of her safety, is another blow to my rapidly dwindling sanity.

  “I don’t know. I think she left with Zed.”

  “What did they do to her? Tell me everything—now.” I stand to my feet and leave Dan on the ground running his hands over his neck as he tries to catch his breath.

  Molly shakes her head. “They didn’t do anything; he stopped them before they could.”

  “He?”

  “Zed. I went down and got him and Tristan before anything could happen. Steph was being so fucking crazy, like she was going to have Dan rape Tessa or something. She says she was only going to make it look that way, but I don’t know, she was acting like a psycho.”

  “Rape Tessa?” I choke out. No. “Did he . . . touch her?”

  “A little,” she says sadly and looks at the ground.

  I look back down at Dan, who is sitting up now. My boot collides with his cheek, and he drops back to the floor immediately.

  “Holy shit! You’re going to kill him!” Molly shrieks.

  “Like you give a fuck,” I snap at her and try to gauge just how hard I would have to kick him to permanently indent his skull. Blood trickles down his cheek and out of the corner of his mouth. Good.

  “I don’t . . . I don’t give a fuck about any of this, actually.”

  “Then why did you call me? I thought you hate Tessa.”

  “I do, trust me. But I can’t sit there and let someone rape her.”

  “Well . . .” I almost thank her, but I quickly remember what a bitch she is, so I just nod and walk away to find Tessa.

  Why was Zed here in the first place? That motherfucker always seems to show up at the right time—the exact moment that will make me look like an asshole, and now, once again, he has saved her.

  Regardless of my extreme jealousy, I’m so fucking relieved to know she’s away from Steph and Dan and their fucking sick plan for revenge against me. This whole ordeal is just another reminder that every single bad thing in Tessa’s life stems from me. If I hadn’t done that shit to Dan’s sister, this never would have happened. Now Tessa is fucking drugged and she’s with Zed. Who knows what the fuck he’ll try to do with her.

  This is it—this is what hell feels like. Knowing that she was in this mess because of me. She could have been raped because of me.

  Just like in my dreams . . . and I wasn’t there to stop her. Just like I wasn’t able to stop it from happening to my mum.

  I hate this. I hate myself so fucking much. I ruin everything and anyone that comes in contact with me. I’m poison, and she’s the slowly eroding seraph, holding on to the last bit of herself that I haven’t destroyed.

  “Hardin!” Logan meets me at the bottom the stairs.

  “Do you know where Tessa and Zed are?” The words taste like acid on my tongue.

  “They left about fifteen minutes ago—I assumed they were going back to your place,” he responds.

  So she didn’t tell anyone about our breakup. “Was she . . . was she okay?” I ask him and hold my breath until he responds.

  “I don’t know, she was pretty out of it. They gave her benzo.”

  “Fuck.” I tug at my hair and walk to the front door. “If you hear from Zed before I find them, call me,” I instruct him.

  Logan nods in agreement, and I run to my car. Thankfully no one has stolen it. However, someone has taken the opportunity to be a dick and pour a beer down my windshield and leave the empty cup on the hood. Fucking assholes.

  I give Tessa a call, but end up just muttering into her voicemail, “Answer the phone, please . . . please just answer once.”

  I know she probably isn’t capable of answering right now, but Zed could answer the damn phone for her. The thought of her being so incoherent when I’m not around to protect her sickens me. I smash my hands against the steering wheel and peel out onto the street. This is a fucking disaster, and Tessa is with Zed, of all people. I don’t trust him any more than I do Dan or Steph.

  That’s not entirely true, but I still don’t trust him. By the time I get to Zed’s apartment, I’m in tears—literal tears stain and coat my cheeks, reminding me of how big of a fuckup I really am. I let this happen; I let her get fucking drugged, nearly raped, and humiliated. I should have been there. No one would have dared to try that shit if I had been. She was probably so afraid . . .

  I lift my T-shirt up to wipe my traitorous eyes and park in front of Zed’s apartment. His truck isn’t in the lot . . . Where the fuck is he? Where is she?

  I try to call Tessa, then Zed, then Tessa again, but nobody’s picking up. If he does something to her while she’s passed out, I will do much worse to him than he could ever imagine.

  Where else would she go?

  To Landon?

  “Hardin?” Landon’s sleepy voice comes through the phone, and I press the speakerphone button.

  “Is Tessa there?”

  He yawns. “No . . . is she supposed to be?”

  “No, I can’t find her.”

  “Are you . . .” He stops himself. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah . . . no. I’m not. I can’t find Tessa, and I don’t know where else to look.”

  “Does she want to be found?” he asks softly.

  Does she? Probably not. But then again, at this point she probably can’t even form a coherent thought. These aren’t normal circumstances, to put it mildly.

  “I’ll take your silence as a no, Hardin. My guess is, if she doesn’t want to be found, she’s at the one place where she knows you won’t go.”

  “Her mother’s,” I groan, punching my thigh for not thinking of that earlier.

  “Oh, now I’ve done it . . . Are you going there?”

  “Yeah.” But would Zed really drive her two hours to take her to her mum’s?

  “Do you know how to get there?”

  “Not exactly, but I can go by the apartment and get the address.”

  “I think I have something here that has it written on it . . . she left some transfer paperwork here a while ago. Let me look and call you right back.”

  “Thanks.” I wait impatiently and turn my car around in the nearest empty parking lot. I stare out the window, taking in the darkness, fighting not to let it take me over. I have to focus on seeing Tess, on making sure she’s okay.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Landon asks moments later when he calls back.

  “Steph . . . you know, the redhead? She drugged Tessa.”

  Landon gasps. “Wait, what?”

  “Yeah, it’s a fucked-up situation and I wasn’t ther
e to help her so she’s with Zed,” I tell him.

  “Is she okay?” He sounds like he’s panicking.

  “I don’t have a fucking clue.”

  I wipe my nose on my shirt, and Landon gives me directions to Tessa’s childhood home.

  Her mum is going to lose her shit when I show up, especially given the situation, but I don’t care. I don’t have a clue as to what the hell I’m going to do when I arrive, but I have to see her and make sure she’s okay.

  chapter sixty

  TESSA

  What happened? Tell me the entire story!” my mother cries out as Zed lifts me out of his truck. His arms around me jar me back into consciousness, and a blooming sense of embarrassment.

  “Tessa’s old roommate slipped something into her drink, and Tessa asked me to bring her here,” Zed tells her half truthfully. I’m relieved that he kept some of the details from her.

  “Oh my God! Why would that girl do such a thing?”

  “I don’t know, Mrs. Young . . . Tessa can explain when she wakes up.”

  I am awake! I want to scream, but I can’t. It’s an odd feeling, hearing everything that’s going on around me but not being able to participate in the conversation. I can’t move or speak, my mind is foggy, and my thoughts are twisted—but I’m strangely aware of everything that is happening. What’s happening, though, changes every few minutes: sometimes Zed’s voice turns into Hardin’s, and I swear I hear Hardin’s laughter and see his face when I try to open my eyes. I’m losing it. This drug is making me crazy, and I want it to stop.

  Some time passes—I have no idea how much—and I’m placed on what I can tell is the sofa. Slowly, maybe even reluctantly, Zed’s arms slide out from underneath me.

  “Well, thank you for bringing her here,” my mother says. “This is just dreadful. When will she wake up?” Her voice is piercing. My head is spinning slowly.

  “I don’t know. I think the effects last twelve hours at most. It’s been about three already.”

  “How could she be so stupid?” my mother snaps at Zed, and the word “stupid” echoes in my mind until it fades out.

  “Who, Steph?” he asks.

  “No, Theresa. How could she be that stupid to associate with those people.”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Zed answers, defending me. “It was supposed to be a going-away party. Tessa thought the girl was her friend.”

  “Friend? Please! Tessa should know better than to try to be friends with that girl, or any of you, for that matter.”

  “No disrespect or anything, but you don’t know me. I did just drive for two hours to bring your daughter here,” Zed politely responds.

  My mother sighs, and I focus on the sound of her heels clicking on the tile of the kitchen floor.

  “Do you need anything else?” he asks her. The couch, I notice, is much softer than Zed’s arms. Hardin’s arms are soft but hard at the same time; the way his muscles strain under his skin is something I always loved to watch. My thoughts are blurring again. I hate this constant shift back and forth between clarity and confusion.

  From a distance I hear my mother’s voice say, “No. Thank you for bringing her. I was rude a moment ago, and I apologize for it.”

  “I’ll get her clothes and stuff from my car real quick, then be on my way.”

  “Okay.” I hear the clicking of her high heels from across the room.

  I wait to hear the roar of Zed’s truck. It doesn’t come, or maybe it did already and I missed it. I’m confused. My head is heavy. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying here, but I’m thirsty. Did Zed leave yet?

  “What the hell are you doing here?” my mother screams, bringing a sharp edge of clarity to the haze. Though I still don’t know what’s happening.

  “Is she okay?” a panting, ragged voice asks. Hardin.

  He’s here. Hardin.

  Unless it’s Zed’s voice deceiving me again. No, I know it’s Hardin. I can feel him here somehow.

  “You aren’t coming into this house!” my mother yells. “Did you not hear me! Don’t walk past me like you didn’t hear me!”

  I hear the screen door slam shut, and my mother continues to yell.

  And then I think I feel his hand on my cheek.

  chapter sixty-one

  HARDIN

  They couldn’t have been here long—I went twenty miles over the speed limit the whole way. The moment I spot Zed’s truck in the driveway of the small brick house, I nearly vomit. When he steps out onto the porch, my vision goes red.

  Zed walks slowly to his truck as I park on the street, not wanting to block him in, so he can just get the fuck out of here. What will I say to him? What will I say to her? Will she even be able to hear me?

  “I knew you’d show up here,” he says quietly when I appear in front of him.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I growl, biting back my rising anger.

  “Maybe because this is all your fault.”

  “Are you fucking serious? It’s my fault that Steph is a goddamned psycho?” Yes; yes, it is.

  “No, it’s your fault that you didn’t come with Tessa to that party in the first place. You should have seen her face when I busted that door in.” He shakes his head as if to rid himself of the memory. My chest tightens. Tessa must not have told him that we aren’t together. Does that mean she’s still holding on, the way that I am?

  “I . . . I didn’t even know she was going there, so fuck off. Where is she?”

  “Inside.” He states the obvious with a murderous glare.

  “Don’t fucking look at me like that—you shouldn’t even be here in the first place,” I remind him.

  “If it wasn’t for me, she would have been raped and God knows what else—”

  My hands find the collar of his leather jacket, and I push him up against the side of his truck. “No matter how many times you try, no matter how many times you ‘save’ her, she will never want you. Don’t forget that.”

  I give him one last push and step away. I want to hit him, bust his fucking nose for being such a smug asshole, but Tessa is just inside that house, and seeing her is much more important right now. As I walk past his truck windows I see on his seat Tessa’s purse and . . . dress.

  She doesn’t have clothes on?

  “Why is her dress off?” I dare to ask. I yank on the door handle and gather her things into my arms. When he doesn’t answer immediately, I glare at him, waiting for his response.

  “They took it off of her,” he simply remarks, his expression grim.

  “Fuck,” I murmur and turn to walk up the path to Tessa’s mother’s house.

  As I reach the porch, Carol comes out to block the front door. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Her daughter’s wounded, and her first thought is to scream at me. Fucking lovely.

  “I need to see her.” I grab the handle to the screen door. She shakes her head, but moves out of my way. I get the feeling that she knows I’ll push right past her.

  “You aren’t coming into this house!” she shouts.

  I ignore her and step around her. “Did you not hear me! Don’t walk past me like you didn’t hear me!” The screen door slams somewhere behind me as I scan the small living room to find my girl.

  And then I freeze momentarily when I see her. She’s lying on the couch with her knees bent slightly, her hair like a blond halo around her head, and her eyes closed. Carol continues to harass me, threatening to call the cops, but I don’t give a shit. I step over to Tessa, then kneel down so that I’m level with her face. Without thought, I brush a thumb over her cheekbone and cup her flushed cheek in my palm.

  “Christ,” I curse and watch closely as her chest moves up and down slowly.

  “Fuck, Tess, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault,” I whisper to her, hoping that she can hear me. She’s so beautiful, still and calm, her lips parted slightly, innocence clear on her breathtaking face.

  Carol of course jumps into the moment, spewing her anger at me. “You’v
e got that right! This is your fault. Now get out of my house before I have you dragged out by the police!”

  Without turning to her, I say, “Would you just give it a rest? I’m not going anywhere. Go ahead and call the police. Have them show up here this late at night—you’ll be the talk of the town, and we all know you don’t want that.” I know she’s glaring at me, throwing daggers in her mind, but I can’t look away from the girl in front of me.

  “Fine,” Carol finally snorts. “You have five minutes.”

  Her shoes drag against the carpet in the most hideous way. Why is she so dressed up this late anyway?

  “I hope you can hear me, Tessa,” I begin. My words are rushed but my touch is gentle as I caress the soft skin of her cheek. Tears well up in my eyes and fall onto her clear skin. “I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry for all of this. I shouldn’t have let you walk away in the first place. What was I thinking?

  “You would be proud of me, a little, I think. I didn’t kill Dan when I found him; I only kicked him in the face . . . oh, and I choked him a little, but he’s still breathing.” I pause before admitting, “And I almost drank tonight, but I didn’t. I couldn’t make things even worse between us. I know you think I don’t care, but I do, I just don’t know how to show you.” I stop to examine the way her eyelids flutter at my voice.

  “Tessa, can you hear me?” I ask, hopeful.

  “Zed?” she barely whispers, and for a moment I swear the devil is messing with my mind.

  “No, baby, it’s Hardin. I’m Hardin, not Zed.” I can’t help the irritation that flares in me from hearing his name come so softly from her lips.

  “No Hardin.” Her eyebrows pull together in confusion, but her eyes stay closed. “Zed?” she repeats, and I drop my hand from her cheek.

  When I rise to my feet, her mum is nowhere in sight. I’m surprised she wasn’t hovering over my shoulder while I tried to make amends with her daughter.

  And then, as if my thoughts conjured her, she bursts back into the room. “Are you finished?” she demands.

  I hold one palm up toward her back. “No, I’m not.” I want to be—Tessa’s calling out for Zed, after all.

 

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