Page 56

Rachel

It was dark when I woke up, and I immediately hated myself.

I brought my hands to my eyes, rubbing them awake, and then squinted as my head exploded into a million stars.

My mouth felt like sandpaper, my throat felt like I’d been chewing glass, and my stomach was threatening to bring up every piece of food I had ever eaten in my life.

But none of that even began to compare to the band of Irish dancers currently performing a jig in my head. It erupted with pain, and I hissed, drawing the covers up over my chin.

What the fuck happened?

I tried to sift through my memories, but everything was a blank.

One step at a time, Rachel.

What had I done?

I took Bee to the park.

I met Shark.

Dante came.

But then what?

We were drinking. I didn’t need to remember that. The hangover from hell was evidence enough.

Had we argued?

I had a vague memory of Dante grabbing me again, but every time I tried to focus on it, it slipped out of reach.

What had we been arguing about this time?

I tried to swallow and scowled as my mouth protested. It was so dry, and my teeth felt fluffy. I know teeth can’t be fluffy, but that’s what they felt like.

A vision of Dante hovering over me flashed behind my eyes, and it all came flooding back – the empty words he had used to get me beneath him, the way he had forgotten me so easily for his pathetic club, the way I had almost begged him not to go.

I had really shown my hand this time. So much for the perfect blank expression.

I threw the covers off the bed and pushed my legs off, letting them dangle off the edge for a moment before I pulled my body up.

The room immediately swayed, and I leant forward, leaning against the table as I waited for the moment to pass.

It didn’t pass.

The movement caused all the alcohol in my stomach to swish about. I clamped a hand to my mouth and ran, knowing I didn’t have long before I emptied the contents of my stomach.

I made it to the bathroom, forgetting I had left the light on this morning.

My hand flew up to my eyes as the light blinded me, knocking me off balance.

I crashed against the wall; my movements unsteady.

“You think for someone that was raised on alcohol; you’d know how to handle it better.”

It all came flooding back in a dizzy wave. Not just being in bed with him, but the whole evening.

Why had I said those things to him? I knew I had pushed him, and whilst I can’t take the full blame and be responsible for the words and actions of anyone else, I was aware enough to know I had provoked him to the point of no return.

I cringed as it all played out in my mind.. Drinking. Spilling my past. Lashing out because I was hurt. Trying to make Dante hurt. Him grabbing me. The bar watching.

The room spun faster as every event of the past few days played in my mind, taking over every sense I had. Words, the smell of smoke, the blood, being tied up… it made me feel sicker than I already was.

And that’s when my body gave up.

My legs buckled underneath me, my head spun, and my stomach pressed eject.

I landed on my back, smacking my already pounding head off the tiled bathroom floor, at the same time vomit rushed from my throat.

The back of my head felt wet, and I saw the crimson from the corner of my eye, staining the white flooring.

I tried to push myself up as the vomit crept back down my throat at the same time as more came up.

I knew at that moment, I was fucked.

My body was done. My head was too sore to move it to the side. My eyes were already growing heavy, my lungs burning as my throat blocked.

I closed my eyes and the last thing I saw was my chest as it heaved, convulsing on the floor, choking on my own vomit.

What a fucking way to go out, Rachel.