Page 13

I feel like every time I wake up, there’s something that either hurts physically or mentally. And then they say I’m in the prime of my life. I think I might be at the end of mine at this pace. I feel like I’m just a couple of steps away from death and this fucking headache is not helping me. My throat is dry and my limbs feel heavy, like I have been walking in a desert for days without water.

“Love?”

Ryan’s voice has been like an anchor to me these past days, and I am eternally grateful for it, but right now, I just want to throw something at him so he’ll shut up and I can suffer my pounding headache in a quiet room.

“?”

Ugh.

“Please, my head hurts,”

I groan out, hoping he can fully understand what I’m saying.

The stabbing pains in my head are only getting worse, and I feel like smashing my head on a wall at this point to make it stop.

Trying to sleep doesn’t feel like an option either because I cannot think straight, and the pain is just keeping me constantly awake.

There’s some tugging at my arm, but I don’t even feel like reacting to it; all I want is for the pain to stop. I’d do ANYTHING to make it stop at this point.

“This should do it,”

A woman's voice says. I don’t recognise the voice, and I’m not sure I know where I am right now. I can feel something cold rushing through my veins. I think I should be concerned about that but honestly, I feel like I don’t care anymore. I just need it to end.

Slowly, the stabbing pain starts to fade, and I’m finally able to open my eyes and take in the scene around me.

There’s an IV linked to my arm and some kind of clipper linked to my pointer finger.

Why am I in the hospital again?

“How is your head feeling now, Miss Addams?”

a kind voice asks me to my right. I look next to me and see a young nurse with black, tied-up hair standing there.

“Uh, it’s better now,”

I assure her, hoping it will make her go away. I hate hospitals, and now that my headache is gone, all I want to do is be at home.

“Good, if it gets worse again, just click this little button over here, and I’ll come,”

she tells me while holding a small remote that is connected to the bed I’m lying in.

“Oh, okay.”

She seems to have taken enough with my answer and quietly leaves the room, leaving me alone with Ryan, who I’m guessing is the reason I got brought here in the first place.

“Why am I here, Ryan?”

I spit out his name with venom, making him slightly wince at it.

“You fainted and had a panic attack, so I made sure they went to check your concussion,”

he says. He’s looking down, and there are bags under his eyes like he hasn’t slept well either. He just seems so tired.

“How long have I been here?”

He seems to be in some internal battle with himself, whether he should answer me or not on the question. I don’t like that.

“Two days,”

he finally tells me.

Two days! Two fucking days! What the fuck! I jump up out of the bed and try to pull out the tubes connected to my arm, but Ryan moves towards me and stops me before I can actually get anything out.

“You are going to seriously hurt yourself doing this. At least wait until a nurse comes.”

His voice is stern like I don’t have a say in the matter but he must have hit his head if he thinks I’m just going to sit back and do whatever the fuck he says. I squint my eyes at him and take in a breath so he can see how annoyed I am.

“If you think I’m staying a moment longer in here, you are very, very wrong, Ryan. You either help me take this shit out or I’m doing it myself.”

My ultimatum seems to work since he sighs and puts pressure on the place the tube is in my arm, slowly pulling it out, as if he’s done this stuff before.

He grabs a piece of cotton and a bandage he found next to my bed and places it on the wound, tying it up tightly.

I don’t ask him about it, not here anyway. I just want to be out of here quickly so I don’t get anyone annoyed about us leaving already.

I walk out of the room, not having to check if Ryan is following. I can feel his gaze on my back, and it gives me this strange familiar feeling I can’t seem to put a name to. Like my mind is trying to tell me something, but can’t.

I’m surprised how easy it was sneaking out, especially since it’s a hospital.

“I know you think I’m crazy and maybe I am a little, but not about this.”

He doesn’t answer me so I just keep going.

“I need to go back to the cemetery tonight alone.”

Loud laughter fills the space and I turn around in anger.

“I’m not joking,”

I snap at him, making him stop laughing and turning serious in seconds.

“No.”

I scoff at his answer.

“Yes.”

I cross my arms at him. He walks closer, his back straight. It's kind of scaring me, but it’s not like I would show that to him. I hold my stance. I can look scary too. His hands cage my head and he leans over as if he’s going to kiss me, but then he stops. A sinister smile plays on his lips.

“If you think, for one second, I would allow you to even step one foot outside of the house alone, you clearly do not know me enough. You are not fucking going.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it? Last time I checked, I make my own fucking decisions.”

He grabs the back of my hair, pulling it down, forcing my head backwards.

“You don’t want to know what I’m going to do about it. And you don’t want to try me. Now get in the fucking car like a good girl,”

he snarls back.

My heart is racing. I have never seen him like this before. I keep staring into his eyes in defiance, and he forces his mouth on mine, biting my lip before moving away from me.

“Get. In. Now.”

I gulp and try to bring back the air I was losing. I think he can see the surrender in my eyes and lets go of my hair. I walk over to the side of the car and open the door while he is standing right beside me. Probably making sure I don’t make a run for it. The moment I’m seated, he closes the door and walks to the driver's side and gets in.

I don’t speak to him the whole way. I’m pissed, but so is he, and he is kind of scary like this. But not scary enough to make me listen to him.