Page 64 of HEARTSTORM

Nick spoke again.

"There's no saving you, Maya," he spat, rising to his feet. "You're nothing but a lost cause—just like Miss Perfection next to you."

I froze mid-step.

He needed to shut his fucking mouth about Grace, or I'd make him.

"Don't listen to him," she whispered so softly in my ear. "He's just trying to provoke you. Don't fall for it."

I locked eyes with her. Her gaze was calm, almost pleading, wrapped in that sweetness only she had.

His words were pushing me over the edge, but she held me back.

I started walking again, ignoring him.

But, then, he spoke yet again.

"I'll bury you like you did with your mother, Maya."

The moment he said it, my body just froze.

It took a second to register, like my brain couldn't catch up with the words.

But once it hit me—once I realized what he just said—I could feel the fury boiling inside me.

"I'll kill you," I murmured.

My hands started to shake, my whole body was trembling. I felt my eyes burning, red-hot with rage.

Before I knew it, my feet were already moving.

I didn't even think, I just reacted.

I didn't care about anything else, not even Grace, who was squeezing my hand and telling me tender words against my ear.

I rushed at Nick, not stopping until my knuckles slammed into his chest.

I screamed uncontrollably, throwing out meaningless words, hitting him with all my strength.

His pack tried to pull me back, but I forced my way through.

The room erupted into chaos.

Glasses shattered, lamps crashed to the floor, people pushing each other.

I could barely hear anything over the pounding in my ears.

All I saw was red—his face. His stupid, smug face. I just wanted to tear it off.

I fought against whoever was holding me back, struggling to reach him. I pushed harder—and finally, punched him in the face.

His head snapped to the side.

My knuckles were scratched, trembling, nearly bleeding—but I didn't care.

I finally managed to break free from everyone.

I turned around. The chaos was unreal.

Grace wasn't there.

I need to find her.

I need to make sure she was okay.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down, trying to keep myself together. The noise, the shouting, it all became distant.

I pushed past people, shoving them out of the way and called her name multiple times.

But there was no answer. No sign of her.

And then—I heard it.

Sirens, faint at first, growing louder, closer.

The police were coming.

I moved faster—called Grace again, louder this time, urgently, but she didn't reply.

Panic clawed its way up my throat. What the fuck had I done?

Every step made me more frantic—until I finally bumped into someone familiar.

James. His eyes widened as they locked onto my knuckles.

"Where is Grace?" I asked immediately.

"She's with Lily," he replied. "I brought them to the car. She's been looking for you, Maya." James glanced around, scanning the room. "We need to fucking leave—now."

I nodded, moving quickly. James forced his way through the chaos and I followed—my legs moving on instinct more than thought.

The adrenaline was still crashing through me.

"By the back exit," James said, picking up the pace.

We were almost there. I spotted the door and reached for it—but just as I started to run, someone grabbed my arm, pulling me back.

"The fuck you want?" I snapped.

Nick's friends had blocked my way, standing right in front of me, making sure I couldn't leave.

Four tall men against one woman. Oh, how impressive.

The sirens were almost at the house now.

I was fucking stuck.

"Go," I said when James turned back to check on me. "Take Grace home. Get the hell out of here."

His hesitation lasted a second too long.

"Now, James," I said firmly.

He just nodded, but that was enough.

I turned my attention to the wall of bodies blocking me. Nick wasn't there—yet—but his loyal dogs were already playing guard.

"Move," I said coldly.

They didn't.

Figures.

When I turned my gaze, it hit me—James was blocking Nick in the room too, and he was struggling miserably to get free.

Damn good.

One positive thing.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps growing louder.

Nick's pack scattered like frightened dogs.

The door opened, revealing several police officers entering.

I stood there, steady and calm. Nick came up beside me, but it was obvious he wasn't as confident as he pretended to be.

He was freaking out.

He had also a black eye—courtesy of me.

The officers scanned the room, quickly taking in the chaos. They paused for a moment, then fixed their gaze on the only two people left standing: me and Nick Crawford.

"Both of you," one officer said lazily. "You're coming with us."

Nick tried to say something in his usual arrogance. "I'm a Crawford. My father knows the chief of police. You can't—"

The officer cut him off, unfazed. "I don't give a damn who you are, boy. You two are causing a public disturbance, and you're responsible for this mess."

I couldn't help but feel a small sense of satisfaction.

The police officers wearily escorted us outside.

The cool night air and the red and blue lights flashing made everything feel so strange, so realistic now.

But I wasn't panicking.

A small part of me was relieved.

If I was going down, I was glad that Nick was coming with me.

The only thing that was scaring me was having no news of Grace.

But I knew James had made sure she was okay.

As the car drove off, I heard the officer's voice come over the radio.

"We'll be taking them to the station. Nothing too serious, just a party gone wrong. I think they're both from wealthy families."

When we finally arrived at the station, they guided us to separate rooms for questioning.

It wasn't the worst thing that had happened to me. It wasn't pleasant, but maybe—just maybe—something would change after this.

They told me to sit in the chair. "What happened, miss Russell?" One of them asked.

I crossed my arms. "Nothing too serious, just a party gone wrong, officer," I repeated calmly.

He widened his eyes in realization, then shook his head, pretending my words didn't bother him.

"I see you are clever and reckless, miss Russell."

"Nick Crawford tried to provoke me all night.

The people who were there can testify to it," I said, cutting straight to the point.

"When I couldn't take it anymore, I reacted.

His loyal friends tried to pull us apart, which caused that chaos," I said without hesitation.

"As you can see, it all started with him. That's what happened."

I didn't say why I reacted—the words he'd said that cut me so deep.

One of the officers leaned forward, taking notes. "You'll be charged with public disturbance, and we'll also consider the property damage," he said wearily. "The other party has their own charges. You need to call someone to handle your bail."

I gave a single nod, letting the words roll over me.

Maybe it was the exhaustion from everything, or just the anger, but I wasn't even upset anymore.

I just wanted this nightmare to be over and see Grace.

The officer handed me a phone. I dialed the number—my father's number—because I had no other choice.

"It's me," I said before he could even speak.

"Maya..." his voice was strangely too calm.

Or strangely too impatient.

"Where is Grace?"

"She's home. She's okay."

I let out a silent sigh of relief.

It took everything in me to speak again. "I'm at the police station. Would you pay my bail?"

"I'm on my way."

~

I was still sitting in this cold, sterile room, my arms folded across my chest.

My mind was racing with everything that had happened.

It starting to sting a little too much.

Nick's words kept echoing in my mind, tormenting my heart and my head.

The only thing calming me down was thinking of Grace.

I couldn't wait to be with her again and just forget everything that had happened.

A knock at the door snapped me back to reality.

"Russell?" one of the officers said. "Your father paid the bail. You're free to go."

I stood up quickly, not expecting my heart to skip a beat as I walked through the door.

The sting in my throat kept growing.

I glanced up, looking at my father.

His face was expressionless, no anger, no frustration—just pure disappointment.

And that was worse than any anger.

"Here," he said firmly, pressing something into my hand. My phone. Grace had probably handed it over to him.

I met his eyes for just a moment, then looked away—and he did the same.

Neither of us dared to say another word, too stubborn and guarded to start a conversation.

I looked out the car window, watching the city lights pass by, until I heard one of those sighs he makes when he's about to speak.

"You have every right to be disappointed," I said, preceding him.

"Is this how far you can go, Maya?" He calmly asked, still looking at the road in front of him.

"I don't know," I said honestly.

"You put yourself in a very dangerous situation," he said flatly.

My eyes stayed on the window to my right.

"I'm well aware of that."

"You put Grace on it too," he said suddenly.

"This is how far you can go."

The sudden realization hit my already fragile nerves, and my heart was racing like a fucking drum.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," I tried to argue.

"You said you love love her, right?" he calmly asked.

"I do!" I exclaimed with all my strength, feeling a wave of uncontrollable emotion.

Everything I was trying desperately to hide was pouring out now.

"Then show it!" My father exclaimed back.

"You're trying to mess with me, but I'm not going along with it," I said firmly.

He sighed deeply. "I'm just trying to open your eyes, Maya, to how much your reckless behavior can affect people."

I snorted. "You don't know anything about me—or about us. I'm not even going to consider your words."

That was not the truth.

I was feeling overwhelmed about this.

I was considering every syllable.

"You weren't there when Grace came home," he murmured.

I fixed my gaze on him, giving him my full attention.

"You said she was okay on the phone earlier," I urged him. "Speak once and for all."

He paused, his eyes avoiding mine.

"She is okay physically, but not emotionally."

My heart pounded in my chest. "How do you know?"

"Grace was crying over you. She was scared because she saw you lose control. She came home... broken."

I felt something inside me shatter.

Like a wall I'd built up inside suddenly broke down, leaving me with nothing.

The thought that Grace felt this because of me... it broke me. It wasn't right. She didn't deserve it.

My chest felt heavy, my throat felt dry, my entire body felt numb.

I had no idea how much my actions were affecting her. How had I not seen it before?

Every moment, every interaction with her—it was all about me. What I wanted, what I needed. And in the process, I had forgotten about her. Forgotten how much she was hurting.

Just like tonight.

I was the one who wanted to go.

I was the one who attacked Nick.

I was the one messing everything up.

I wasn't paying attention to her.

"That means she cares for you," my father suddenly said, eyeing me in my direction as if he saw a ghost.

"Please, pull over," I begged, my voice trembling.

He didn't need me to repeat it. I was shaking.

He stopped, and I slammed the door open, stepping out violently.

I didn't care where I was, nothing mattered anymore.

My hand touched my throat, the burn of it almost suffocating.

I had to throw up.

As soon as I finished, I dropped to the ground, my hands hit on the cold asphalt. My body giving in to the exhaustion, all strength drained from me.

My father rushed to me, his hands wrapping around my arms, lifting me up with gentleness.

I couldn't even stand on my own. My legs felt like jelly, like they were no longer mine.

"Come on," he whispered, his voice thick with worry. "Maya, it's over now."

I couldn't find the strength to speak, barely able to hold myself as he helped me to the car, making sure I was seated.

My whole body ached, but it was nothing compared to the storm in my mind.

"Maya, I will help you get through this," he said softly. "Grace and I will help you, but you have to let us."

I wanted to believe him, wanted to let myself lean on them, but the walls I'd built up inside me were so high right now. And they were the only things keeping me together.

"You need to leave me at the hotel," I said.

"What?!" my father said. "No, Maya, you're coming home," he insisted.

"I can't go home like this," I said.

His eyes landed on me, scanning my face, my trembling hands, the way my body slumped against the seat, my breathing shallow and uneven.

"You don't have to do this alone," he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading.

I shook my head weakly. "I need time," I murmured. "Grace can't see me like this, and I can't see her or..." my breath hitched.

My father clenched his jaw, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Maya, it's not good for you to stay alone."

I exhaled, the sound shaky and broken. "Even the smallest bit of emotion could break me right now, or I could break everyone."

He turned the corner, reluctantly steering to the right.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the hotel. Its bright lights suddenly burned my eyes.

My father parked and opened my door. Every step was heavy, and moving felt impossible, so he guided me.

He took the key and we stepped into the elevator. The ride was silent. I leaned against the wall.

Everything felt too loud.

But no one was speaking.

When we got to the room, I walked in slowly, dragged myself onto the bed, and collapsed without a word.

My hands covered my eyes, trying to block everything out.

My father stood behind me, his hand gently rubbing my back. "Call me if you need anything, okay? I'll be here tomorrow. Try to get some rest."

I gave him a wordless nod.

He approached the door, but I still felt his presence. He hadn't left yet.

"Maya, you're not alone. Even if it feels like everything is falling apart, it's not."

His voice lingered, tugging at the fragile pieces of my heart.

After a long moment, I heard the soft click of the door closing behind him.

I didn't move, just stood there frozen for what felt like an eternity.

I had no idea how much time had passed.

Everything seemed blurry, like I was in a dream I couldn't wake up from.

My phone screen read 2 a.m.

I took a deep breath and pressed her number on my phone.

I put it on speaker and stared at the dark ceiling above me.

It didn't take long for her to answer.

But she didn't talk.

I could only hear her deep breathing, each inhale and exhale tugging at my heart.

"Grace."

"Your father is here, Maya. But you're not."

A sharp ache pierced my chest.

I had broken the promise to always stay by her side tonight.

"I can't be there," I whispered.

"Why?"

I turned towards my phone, my hands brushing the empty mattress, imagining she was there with me.

"Grace, I need to be alone and away for a while."

"For how long? And why?" Grace asked quickly, unable to hide the tremble of worry in her voice.

"I don't know." My fingers caressed the cold sheets.

"Maya, I've already forgiven you if that's what worries you," she said softly.

Her voice was sincere and warm.

"But I haven't forgiven myself, Grace."

Silence followed.

"Grace," I whispered again, my voice breaking from the tightness. "I need to find a way to breathe again."

There was a pause, and then she spoke gently, heartbroken. "I get it, but that doesn't make it hurt any less."

"I know, but I can't—" The emotion was too thick, too raw, and I struggled to hold it back. "I have to be broken and alone before I can ever be good enough for you again, Grace."

Through the phone, I could hear the catch in her breath, the effort she was making to hold herself together.

In that silence, I felt it all.

The damage I had caused.

The way I hurt her.

"Is there... anything else you want to say?" Grace whispered.

And I understood it.

She wanted me to say the three words.

"No, I can't," I forced out.

My heart turned to ash.

"Okay," she gave in.

"We will talk tomorrow, Grace," I said.

"Okay... I will wait for you," she replied.

My finger touched the screen and pressed the end call button.

I buried my face into the pillow, wanting to scream my guts out or cry until nothing was left.

But I didn't scream, and I couldn't cry.

It was like the pain was trapped inside me, impossible to release.

And it was silent and heavy.

Until I eventually drifted into sleep, not because I found peace, but because exhaustion won.