by CC Monroe
They say there are five stages of grief, and I’ve bypassed them all in less than twenty-four hours. Now what? Heal like I wanted? That sounds so much easier said than done. I watch the water grow still around me; I don't move an inch other than breathing. My phone rings on the bathroom counter, but I don’t go for it knowing its a worried sick Sadie. I don't care about anything at this very time, except for the stillness of the water.
Nick isn't making anymore noise and I would almost think he left if I didn't know him so well. He wouldn't leave me alone, even if I begged him to or sent in the swat team to drag him out of this place.
“Shut it off, Kate. I know you know how,” I whisper. If I don't shut off the voice in my head that is feeding the beast in my heart, I might just crumble to nothing and crawl back into Eric’s arms. It’s not me losing him as my lover; it’s me losing him as what I thought was hope. I believed in Eric, and I still do. I saw the good parts, lived through a lot of them, so to me it feels like I lost hope and friendship. Being in love with Eric was lost long ago, but loving him will never fade, and that is one thing I can never shut off.
My phone rings again, and I still do nothing to grab it. My thoughts are drifting to Eric. He’s probably lost in just as much hysteria as I am right now, realizing that this time really was the last time. It finally stops, and I work on the shut-off. Minutes turn to a half an hour, which turns into an hour until the water has grown cold twice over after refilling.
Climbing out. I wrap myself in a towel and my phone, seeing it was indeed Sadie. Opening the door, all the lights but the bedroom light at the end of the hall are off. Walking that way, I expect to find Nick waiting for me, but he isn't there. Beside the bed is a sandwich and a bottled water, and laid out on top of the covers is one of his tees that will fit me like a nightgown.
I bypass the food and get dressed for bed. Nick is most likely out on the couch to give me and himself some space. I walk over and turn off the light then climb under the warm comforter. Once settled as comfortably as I can be, I stare at the ceiling fan and watch it spin for less than five minutes before I decide to make two phone calls.
When I hang up, my mind and body shut off, knowing they have nothing left to offer this wretched day. I can only hope Eric doesn't haunt my dreams.
§
“When I die, you better make sure you date someone not as fucked up as me,” Eric says in the small bunk we’re curled up in.
I lift my head from his chest and lock my eyes on the side of his face. He doesn't look at me, trying his best to look concentrated.
“If you know this addiction is that bad, then why do you do it, Eric?” I ask him, my voice soft with a touch of trepidation. Whenever we go down this road, I tread so very lightly, because the slightest word or ill thought that I voice about his addiction can lead to a World War III kind of fight.
“You ever been addicted to anything bad for you?” He finally gives me his eyes with his question.
I give him a soft look, something I can only describe as a vulnerable, heartbreaking look. “Yeah. You.”
“Touché.”
Just for a moment, it becomes eerily quiet in our space, the sound of the others in the front of the bus drowned out almost.
“You only stay, because you love me. You care. No one ever cared for me,” he whispers, his eyes starting to glisten.
“I do love you. I don’t stay because of that.” I kiss his cheek, a gentle caress of my lips against his smooth skin.
“You do, and I know it, but I don’t care. I’m selfish. I want everything from you, even your heartbreak—even more so, because I caused it.” Those words don't just hurt me; they cut me deep, deep down, leaving unhealable scars.
“Why? Why do you try so hard to hurt those who love you? Why do you push us away when all we want to do is keep you?”
He turns then, his eyes going from the soft green that so often hypnotizes me to a darker shade, embers of fire sparking in them.
“Because everyone hurt me. I don't know how to do anything else.” He sits up then and climbs out of the bunk, and I want to reach for him, beg him to not leave when we’re talking about this. He does it so often and so well. Eric gives me an inch and leaves me begging for a mile.
But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out, not even breath. I lose myself just a little more, falling for a man who will never catch me.
“My addiction will kill me. It’s already killed everything I could have ever made beautiful in my life. That, dirty angel, is addiction. You don’t own it; it fucking owns you.” He grabs the cocaine vile from his bag and leaves me. I grow cold, shuddering with his last words that are still lingering.
“You can always leave,” I whisper to him, but more so to myself.
Chapter Seven
Nick
Kate screams, so damn loud that I shoot up on the couch and nearly jerk my giant body off the fucking thing. I rush, sleep still heavy in my eyes as I navigate as best as I can.
“Kate, baby?” I open the door, and she's gripping the sheets beside her where she lays flat on her back. She looks pained, her face screwed up into pure agony. She is whimpering and begging for something to go away.
“Stop! Stop! Stop!” She jerks then, so hard her head nearly hits my headboard.
“Fuck, Kate!” I go to her, grabbing her by her shoulders and pinning her down, lightly shaking her from her nightmare.
“No!” Just like that, her eyes fly open, no trace of any sleep, no—it’s mass hysteria.
“Baby, breathe, it’s a nightmare.” I pull her into me, lifting her from the bed and burying her into my side. Her head falls on my chest, and she cries. It’s a loud one from deep in her gut, and it comes out in what I can only describe as an exorcism of regret, loss, and shame.
“I’m so stupid. I did this to myself. I stayed with him, and now I’m a mess with no one to blame but myself.”
I don't talk, and I don't plan to. Kate has to feel this in every part of her mind, body, and soul. To figure out how to move on and let go of years of twisted and manipulative behavior all from Eric and herself. They both did this to her. He convinced her to stay, and she convinced herself not to leave when she knew every time that she should have. Right now is all about letting her clean him from her system. Just like I did when I got clean, she needs to get sober after him.
Kate cries, for hours, two uninterrupted hours of self brutality tears. When her breath starts to even out and she calms down enough, I pull her in closer, as close as I can get her. “You're going with us on tour. End of story. Argue me on it, Kate, and I swear I’ll drag you on the bus and handcuff you to a chair.”
I expect her to fight with any excuse she can muster up, but she surprises me. “I don’t have a job anymore. So I have nothing keeping you from caveman carrying me onto the bus.” This causes us both to smile, but it’s short-lived, the moment still very heavy.
“When did you quit?” I ask.
She situates herself, nuzzling her head into my chest absentmindedly, drawing all the warmth she can from me as her body still has aftershock shivers. “Before bed. I kind of went full-batshit and quit. I went a little overboard. I even called my parents.”
“You did what?” I growl. This startles her, and she sits up, my white tee thin enough I see her nipples clear as day. “Fuck. Baby, cover up that gorgeous body before I do something we’ll both regret.”
She looks down and sees, covering herself with the comforter, and a light blush creeps across her freckled cheeks.
“I called them. I got out of the bath and cried until I fell asleep. But not before I called and quit and then called my parents. They didn't answer.” She drops her head, her hands picking at each other in her lap.
“Kate. Don’t landslide. They gave up on you and sent you running back into Eric’s arms. You can’t talk to them right now. Not like this.” I look her up and down with my brows drawn in sympathy.
“Don’t do that. Don't give me that look. I don't need
it,” she hisses, her body going from open to stone-cold.
“Fine.” I throw my hands up in surrender. I’m not her punching bag, and I’ve had it past my boiling point with dealing with her mood swings. Eric may have thrived on the fights and the drama, but I don’t. I don’t get off or have any desire to fight with Kate.
“I’m going out tomorrow with Sadie.”
I keep my eyes focused on her, waiting for her to say something to provoke that possessive side in me, but she won’t get it. Her sobriety from Eric is going to be harsh and crass. It will be brutal, but I’ve been just as broken as she is once. I went through addiction at the age of seventeen all the way to twenty-two. I lost everything, including my wife. But most importantly, I lost my old life.
Sure, I gained a new life, a better life, a life that landed me at Kate’s feet, but when I was in the thick of getting clean, I didn't see a life where I would ever be happy.
“Okay. I plan on getting things ready for the road. I’ll have my phone, and I’ll come pick you up when you're ready to come home.”
“Oh. Okay.” She’s disappointed I didn't show my possessive side.
“Go to sleep, kitten. I’ll see you in the morning.” I get up, not wanting to do this anymore tonight. I have to get away and give us some separation. I plan to keep her tucked in close on this tour, but I have to get her on that bus, and I know she won’t even step foot on there if we keep going from hot to cold like this.
“Night,” she whispers.
§
“Sadie? What’s wrong, baby?” Ben is standing over his suitcase the following night while I answer emails in his room.
My head flies up, and I’m off the couch in seconds and at his side. Kate and Sadie left for the club a few hours ago, and Kate hasn't answered one text I've sent. I can hear her panicked voice through the other end of the line but can’t tell what she's saying.
“Damn it. We’re on our way. Find security, baby, and ask them to help you get her and bring her around the back. We will be there in ten.” He hangs up, shaking his head. “She's wasted. Dancing on the bar, drinking way too much. Sadie says men keep dancing up on her, and she's worried someone is going to take advantage of her.”
“Damn it!” I bite out. Picking up my leather jacket off the back of the couch, I make my way out of the room with Ben on my heels.
We climb into my truck, and I fly out of the driveway, peeling out of the neighborhood. “You will stay in the car. I don't need anyone seeing you or snapping a picture of you. I don't have time to do damage control on some bullshit story,” I tell Ben, weaving in and out of the cars on the road.
“You have to calm down, man. You're going to make this worse if you go in like you’re a man loose from his cage.”
“I am! Dammit! She's driving me crazy, Ben. She’s acting like she's this weak woman with no respect for herself, and that’s bullshit. She isn't this person. But she can’t seem to see herself anymore.”
“I know. I do. But you have to understand that too.” He slaps me in the face with reverse psychology. “Eric was so good at controlling her strings. Kate has to learn how to be Kate again. Trust me, she's put my woman in a shitty situation, and I want to yell at her as much as the next guy, but I can’t, because it will make it worse.”
I swish his words around in my head, and I let the calm down take over. He’s right. I can’t be a dick. I can’t be her savior all the time either. Sometimes, my silence is exactly what she needs to see how wrong she is.
We pull up to the back, and Sadie is standing there with a security guard. She looks scared, nearly petrified.
“Baby!” Ben and I hop out, and he’s on her. “You okay?” he asks, and she nods, falling into his arms.
“Where is she?” I rub Sadie's arm, trying to be as soft with my words, but the anxiety fueled adrenaline is still boiling inside me, nearly blinding me with rage.
“She went back in; the other security guard is in there looking for her.”
I curse under my breath. Running my hand through my hair, I rein myself in. “Okay. I’ll find her. You two get back in the car, and I will be right back.”
They nod, and Ben takes her to the truck, helping her up into the cab before climbing in the back with her. I’m gone after that, already blazing through the back door. The music is thumping, and bodies are shoulder-to-shoulder, but it’s nothing to me. I manage one of the world’s most famous rock bands; crowds are second nature to me.
I search for her in every blonde I see, but come up empty-handed. But then I see her standing by the side of the bar, where she's up against the wall. Well, she's being held against the wall by some jock strap, his hands roaming her body in an unwelcome manner. I see her trying to fight him off, but he isn't budging. I’m on him in seconds, casualties becoming faceless to me in my wake as I plow through them. I grab the guy by the collar of his salmon polo and yank him back, turning him as I do.
“Hey, what the fu—”
I punch him square in the face. One punch is all it takes to have him on the floor writhing in pain with a broken bloody nose.
Kate is standing there, looking at him then to me, her eyes locking on me and sobering. “Nick!” I’m on her then, grabbing her by her elbow and pulling her with me. “Nick!” She keeps trying to resist, but she's too drunk, and her strength is nonexistent thanks to her being intoxicated. We make it outside, and I walk her around to the passenger side of the truck and open her door, picking her up. She lets out a protest, hitting my back and hollering for me to put her down. Once her ass hits the seat, she goes to reach out and slap me, but I grab her hand.
The action halts her movement, and her eyes snap to mine. I say with an even tone, my anger so far past rage I don't think there is a word for it. “Do not try me. I’m so fucking pissed at you right now, kitten. I want to take you over my knee and spank you,” I growl, and her eyes pull into a sharper glare.
“You wouldn't dare,” she challenges.
“Kate! Stop it!” Sadie lets out a tearful sob.
She pauses instantly, her eyes going soft as she looks back at her best friend. But as quick as it came, it fades.
I buckle her in and slam the door then climb in on my side, and for the first few minutes, she doesn't say anything. However, the tequila starts talking, and it’s got a bitter fucking taste.
“This is your fault. All of this,” she whispers with a cruel bite to her words.
“How is that, kitten?” I ask her snottily.
“You came out that night. He wanted to fuck me like another groupie, and he sent his call boy out to rope me up like cattle. You brought me to him and ruined my life!” she screams, 100 percent letting the alcohol cloud her judgment.
I grip the steering wheel and hold my tongue. I can’t get even. I take that hit, and that’s only the first one.
“Kate,” Sadie whispers. She has always had such a soft-spoken heart; she wears it on her sleeve. And seeing her best friend so broken is killing her. We’re all just trying to figure this out and get through it with Kate.
“No, Sadie. I hate him and what he did to me, and it’s all your fault. You’re the reason I’m even here.” Kate's spews more venom. We’re nearly to Ben’s house now, and I keep doing my best to not give in. The real Kate isn't talking right now, and I have to keep remembering that.
“You won’t say anything, because you're a coward. You broke me, Nick. I blame you! I hate you!” she screams just then we pull into the driveway.
I park the car and turn off the engine. “Get out.” She turns, facing me, placing a hand on the dash. Ben and Sadie get out without question, going right into the house. Her words hurt me, stung me deep. Drunk or not, those words should have never left her lips, and they play on a constant loop in my head, reducing me to nothing.
“What? You have nothing to say?” she hisses.
“Kate. Get out, get your ass inside, and sober up.”
She scoffs, crossing her arms. “No.”
“Kate
,” I say through gritted teeth, my hands gripping the steering wheel, trying my best to not lose it.
“No. You’re just as bad as he is. You’re just as horrible!”
I snap and slam my fist on the steering wheel. Letting out a loud “Fuck!” Climbing out of the truck, I round the front and throw open her door. I undo her seat belt and pull her out and over my shoulder.
She fights me, kicking and flailing about. “Put me down, asshole!”
I barrel through the house, on a mission. Finding their guest bathroom and throwing open the door, I move to turn on the water. It comes out of the showerhead, and I do it. I put her in under the running shower while still completely clothed.
“Oh my God! Nick!” she screams, and my voice comes booming through, loud and demanding her attention.
“I know he fucking hurt you, Kate. He broke you in half, and all you tried to do was save him. I get it. I do. But I will not let you sit here and push away the people you love and treat us like trash because you're hurting. You’re drunk and doing exactly what he did, and you almost got assaulted tonight because of it. I’m so fucking sorry he hurt you, baby. I am, but it was never your obligation to save him, Kate.”
Her eyes are filling with tears, and the alcohol washes down that drain with her shame, regret, and pain.
“I can’t sit here and watch you drown his memory with tequila. I know it hurts to let him go, but you have to, Kate. So do what you have to do to let that go, or you're going to lose everything. Let him go.” I turn then and punch the mirror, watching it shatter to a million pieces as she lets out the most heart-wrenching sob. I walk out of the room, my heart breaking just like hers and the mirror did.
“Fuck!” I slide down the wall in the hall just outside the door and I bring my bloody hand up to my hair and drop my head between my bent knees. “Damn it, baby!” I yell out into the empty hall. Ben and Sadie stand at one end and hold each other as they watch everything unfold.
Now everything left that wasn't falling apart is ashes. We both have nothing left to give.
§
Kate