Page 35 of Pit Stop

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

SKYE

“You look like shit,” Rob says, tossing a pillow at me. We’re in our apartment off campus, and Rob is starting to tire of my moping. And I’ve been moping. It’s a chronic illness at this point.

I truly feel sick. All the time.

I grab the fluffy pillow that’s far too bright and throw it to the ground.

“I haven’t been sleeping.”

“Yeah, I can tell. When’s it going to stop? You’re not yourself.”

Never , I think, but bite back those words.

The truth is, I miss him; the weight of his absence is felt through my entire body.

Every night, I toss and turn, trying like hell to drift off, but unable to do so.

And during the day, I ache. Every joint hurts.

From the little research I’ve done, I think it could be the trauma of the bond being broken, but I think it’s more than that.

I think I simply just miss him.

I regret my decision to go through with it, but now I have to live with the consequences.

“We should go out.”

“No,” I say, and Rob rolls his eyes.

“You’ve been inside for an entire week.”

“I’ve been going to classes. I’m not a hermit.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been doing the bare minimum, sleeping all the time, barely eating.

I don’t even see you smiling. You need to get out and breathe some fresh air.

Eat an actual meal. You broke the bond for this very reason.

To be free. And here you are, three weeks into it, and you’re acting like a prisoner. ”

I stare at that little moon I bought at the street fair and happily note that it’s dull. Not bright at all, which means my heat is nowhere near close. Thank fuck.

I’m dreading Red.

He hasn’t reached out, but I have a feeling he’s waiting, biding his time.

I don’t know what to do about it.

I mean, I told Forest and Sage about his demands after our trip up north. When I told them what Red wanted, both looked bothered by it.

“I’ll take care of it,” Forest said. But I don’t know what that means, and I never asked for a follow-up.

I’m just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For now, I’ll pretend Red doesn’t exist. Sweep him and all my other problems under the rug and try to move on. Although it’s hard to do that when I feel like I’m splitting apart.

“Come on, seriously, Skye. I’m worried about you. We don’t even need to go to a party. We should just go out. Have a bite to eat. Just the two of us.”

I run a hand through my hair and sigh. “Yeah, I guess that doesn’t sound so bad.”

It sounds terrible. I just want to lie down and sleep.

Rob grins, his eyes flickering. “Then let’s go. Shower first. You smell.”

I roll my eyes at him and then stand, aches moving through my limbs. I groan as I arch back, my spine cracking. Rob eyes me and then sighs.

“I’m really glad we’re going out to eat. You look way too thin.”

“Just not hungry.”

Worry clouds his eyes, but I ignore it, moving toward the hallway where the bathroom is.

My movements are slow as I flip the water on and turn to face the mirror.

I don’t like looking. It’s miserable to see the person staring back at me.

I’m gaunt, with dark circles under my eyes.

My hair is greasy, and a small, patchy beard has appeared on my face. It’s not a good look.

I take my glasses off and clean the lenses before moving into the shower. I wash and shave, everything hurting as I move. But I manage to get it done. Mostly.

When I step out, I dry off and dress, meeting Rob in the living room where he’s waiting for me patiently.

“You look better.”

“Thanks.”

He cocks his head and sighs. “Go on. Look at the phone before we go. I want you to see that he hasn’t messaged so we can go through the next hour in peace.”

I swallow and pull out my phone, hating that he knows me so well, that he knows how obsessive this checking has become.

Staring down at the blank screen, I feel my chest constrict.

Nothing. No messages.

“He’s an asshole to do that, by the way.”

“He has a reason for it,” I say, and Rob purses his lips, taking my phone from me and shoving it in his pocket.

His arm goes around me, and he pulls me into him. It’s so different from the feel of Maverick next to me that I almost start crying. But I choke it back. I won’t do that. Not now.

Not when I went through all the trouble to get ready to go out. Just to eat. Not to party.

Rob leads me to his car and helps me inside. I’m like an old man, my body having aged significantly. He doesn’t comment on it though, just drives me across town to what used to be my favorite restaurant. But now the thought of eating turns my stomach.

I swallow it down and let Rob lead me inside. He asks for a booth, and we slip into our seats without having to wait. Probably because everyone else is out partying, and here we are eating.

“Come on. Order something with protein. Or really, anything that sounds good.”

I stare at the menu and my stomach churns. “Can you order for me?”

Rob sighs, and when the waitress comes over, he tells her what we’ll have. Or at least what he thinks I’ll want. I’m just going to try to force whatever I can down.

My stomach gurgles. I feel like I’m going to vomit.

“I need to use the bathroom,” I say suddenly, and Rob arches an eyebrow.

I get up with considerable trouble and hobble down to the bathrooms. The urge to check my phone is intense, and it only grows when I realize Rob has my phone and I can’t do that.

I’m left to gag over the toilet without knowing if a message is waiting for me.

A blessing and a curse.

I need to break this.

I need to get on with my life. But it’s hard when everything is just so damn difficult. When moving and sleeping and eating have become unbearable chores.

Even the information in my classes is hard to digest. If I don’t snap out of this, I may end up having to retake several of them. I may even end up on academic probation. That’s never happened before.

I wash my hands, avoiding my reflection in the mirror this time, and make my way back to our table. Our drinks are waiting, and he pushes one toward me. Orange juice.

“Drink it.”

I do as he asks, and he sighs.

“Do you want me to call him?”

“No,” I say, even though I do. Just for an update, to see how he is. I don’t want to bother him, though.

Because he blocked me for a reason, and I need to respect that.

“What about your next heat?”

“Red,” is all I say.

“Fuck him. You’re not letting him do you.”

“No other choice, really. Not any good ones anyway. And he’s a shifter. He could make me. They don’t seem to have any boundaries.”

Rob narrows his gaze before sipping on his drink. “Fuck. I’ll talk to Forest. He said he’d take care of it. That has to mean something.”

“Don’t bother. It doesn’t matter.”

I don’t even have the energy to fight it.

Our food is set in front of us, and Rob digs in while I pick at mine.

As I do, I hear the roar of motorcycles in the distance and my heart skips a beat.

My gaze turns out the window as they approach.

A whole cluster of them, revving engines, leather jackets.

The window starts to turn hazy. Rain at the end of summer.

Red headlights dripping down the glass.

No, not rain. Tears.

I slump forward, and Rob rushes to my side.

“Skye. Shit. Skye!”

But I’ve given in to the grief.

I’m lost.

I make it home with the help of Rob. He manages to carry me to my bed, and I collapse onto the mattress, my tears almost endless now. I’ve lost my glasses somewhere, and I’m having a hard time seeing. Not that I’m looking at anything.

I can barely see through the wetness in my eyes.

“That’s it,” Rob murmurs. But I don’t know what he means by that. I just turn my face into the pillow and soak it through.

I cry until I can’t breathe, until there is nothing left inside of me but dust.

And when that settles, I drift off, and in my dreams, I see Maverick, his eyes on me, his lips wet with want.

I reach out for him, and he takes a step forward, so close. He’s so fucking close that I can smell him, can almost taste him, but then he turns and walks away. And I can’t move. Can’t chase him. I’m stuck. Chained to my future, to my dreams and goals. To what I thought I wanted.

Only, I don’t know if that’s what I want anymore.

“Wake up,” Rob says, shaking me gently. “Wake. Up.”

My crusty eyelids part, and I blink up at my friend. His hand touches my face, and he curses. My glasses are thrust onto my face—Rob must have found them—and I realize that despite them, I still can’t see very well. It’s all a blur.

“We’re going. Now.”

I don’t ask where, don’t fight him, just let him pick me up and drag me to the car. He buckles me in and tosses a backpack in the trunk before turning the car on and peeling down the road.

My head flops to the window, the cool glass against my feverish skin. My eyes close, and I swallow. My throat is dry. It hurts.

Everything hurts. Kind of like when we mated and then spent time apart. How sick I got.

Oh gods. It’s just like that. Only this time, it came on slower.

My stomach churns, and I gulp back the urge to vomit.

“You hang in there,” Rob says curtly. “You fucking wait.”

My eyelids close as the rumble of the car beneath me rocks me to a fitful sleep. And when I wake, I’m somewhere familiar. The garage where Maverick works.

My heart rate picks up, and for the first time in days, I feel like I’m able to see.

Rob hops out of the car that’s still running, and he disappears inside. I can’t move. The aches in my bones keep me seated. But my hands are fisted in my lap, my breathing labored.

Is he here?

Where is he?

I hear a commotion, and then Rob appears, looking crestfallen. My heart sinks in my chest, and I tighten my fists so hard that I feel my nails pierce the skin of my palms. But I don’t move. Still, I don’t move.

What happened?

Where is he?

Why isn’t he here?

And then I hear it, the sound of a motorcycle.

My head swivels, and I see him. Everything narrows, my sight, my hearing, even my sense of smell. It all centers on him. Maverick.

I’m moving before I know it, stumbling out of the car, my frail body snapping and cracking as I move.

He puts the kickstand down and eyes me, going still. And as he does, I see it, the presence of someone else on the back of his bike.

Another man. Someone young.

My movements stop. My feet are suddenly swallowed into the ground.

He’s moved on. It’s why he blocked me.

Rob is shouting now, cursing at Maverick, but I can’t hear exactly what he’s saying. I only stand there, staring, blinking back tears.

Of course he found someone else. It was all a lie. Him being there for me.

Him wanting me.

He’s free of the bond. Now he’s free to be with someone else.

Someone who’s not me.

It shouldn’t matter this much, but it does.

Because during the time we were together, I fell in love.

My foot moves backward, and I let out a choked sob.

Maverick starts to move forward, his eyes wild. He’s striding toward me. But I don’t want him to touch me. I don’t want him at all. He doesn’t love me back.

The thought causes me to stumble, my ankle twisting, and I find myself falling before crashing onto the ground. My arm hits the pavement at an odd angle and cracks, a loud cry pulled from me.

But it’s nothing compared to how it felt to have him ripped from me.

To realize that none of it was real.

“Skye,” Maverick shouts, rushing toward me, his hands falling to my chest.

Oh gods, he’s touching me. It hurts. It physically hurts.

“Get away from him, you dick!” Rob shouts, trying to pull Maverick away, but he’s not moving, hovering over me, his gaze frantic.

“Skye,” he murmurs, and I close my eyes, not wanting to see him. Not wanting to see what I lost. What I forced away. “Gods. He’s hurt. What the fuck happened to him?”

“You did, you prick! You blocked him, and you stayed away, and he’s been unwell, and now he’s hurt. You fucking hurt him!”

I’ve never heard Rob so upset. He’s usually so mild-mannered and silly, but not now. Now he’s a protector. He means business.

“I think he’s broken something,” Mav says, his voice cracking.

“Fuck off,” Rob says. “If he’s broken it, it’s your fault.”

I gasp as another slice of pain jolts through my arm and into my chest.

“We need to get him seen by a doctor.”

“Why don’t you go back to your little sidepiece and leave us alone,” Rob says.

“Sidepiece?” Maverick says, his nostrils flaring. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Move, you cheating bastard,” Rob growls, shoving Maverick aside.

He barely shifts, but does allow enough room for Rob to bend over me and help me up.

A low moan erupts from my mouth as my shoulder bone grinds against the socket.

I may not be a shifter, but we do heal faster than normal and I know in a few hours, I’ll be okay.

The issue at the moment is getting to a doctor before it sets incorrectly.

“I’m taking him to the hospital,” Rob says, and Maverick stands there, staring at me.

“Rob. Why does he look like that?” he breathes. “What the fuck is going on?”

Rob ignores him, and helps me into the passenger seat, buckling me in and pressing a soft kiss to my cheek.

“You’ll be okay, love,” he whispers.

“Rob. Tell me what the fuck is going on!”

“I’m not telling you, asshole. I was going to, but you were off with someone else.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, his bones cracking, and I shut my eyes once more, not wanting to see him. It hurts too much.

This is terrible.

Rob should never have brought me here. Everything is worse now.

Everything .

Rob curses at him, his voice muffling as the door shuts behind him. My head is throbbing, as is the rest of my body. From the fall, from the broken shoulder, but it’s more than that. It’s my heart.

It’s ripped to pieces.

He’s moved on.

Without me.