Page 39 of Make Me Bleed

“There’s nothing to understand, baby. Let’s just shower and get some rest. I’d like to hold you as I sleep. How does that sound?”

I smile up at him, blinking rapidly as little bits of water jump across my face. “That sounds really nice. Thank you.”

Harvey smiles softly back and lathers soap in his hands and begins washing my back. “You’re welcome.”

A night with Peris ending with Harvey’s arms wrapped around me…

What an absolute mind fuck.

CHAPTER 11

PERIS

Watchinghim walk away from me hurts less than I thought it would.

Maybe it’s because I know it’s not over. That I can find him now. Because it’s his number I’m staring at. A number he gave me without a word before walking away—yet again. Because that’s what Abel Silver does best.

He fucking runs.

And everyone else is left behind in his ruins, expected to pick up the pieces he left behind.

“Fuck!” I shout and rake my hand through my hair, tugging harshly.

There’s a beep, following by the softsnickof the door closing, and then, Gabriel’s scent fills the room, and I’m choking on it.

“Peris…”

“What.” It’s not a question.

“Are you okay?”

I huff. “Am I okay?” My voice cracks. My eyes sting. My body aches. “Am I okay? What a stupid fucking question.”

“Okay… fair enough. I just… What can I do?” he asks, and I snort and sniffle as I drop back on the bed, fingers clenchedtightly around the notepad with his number, refusing to let it go, for even a moment, lest I lose this part of him, too.

“Grab me my fucking booze. That would help.”

“Peris…”

“Don’t parent me right now, Gabriel. I just need to get really drunk and forget it all for a while. Are you going to be my friend and get really drunk with me, or are you going to be my goddamn dad?”

“I don’t think you want me to be your dad?—”

“That’s not the point!” I snap, and he jerks away.

“Right.” He nods and then seems to find resolve in something. “In your bag?” he asks after a moment, looking around on the floor for it.

“Yes. Thank you.” I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Sure thing, buddy.” And when he gives me it, along with my phone and my pack of cigarettes and suggest we go out onto the balcony, how can I refuse?

The night is freezing as I sit on the concrete in nothing but my shorts, but the cold is sobering, even as I work to become the exact opposite. Gabe and I pass the bottle of tequila back and forth, drink for drink, and it doesn’t take too long for the effects to start swimming.

Cigarette to my lips, I rasp, “He was really here, wasn’t he?” I pull in a drag, relishing in the burn of nicotine and poison.

Gabe’s sigh is soft. “Yeah, Peris. He was.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”