Unveiled (The Unveiling Book 1) Page 2

  I slump back and take a long sip of the water, letting the coolness soothe my aching throat.

  So, Loki is here. Loki knows what I did. Well, at least the pills part. He doesn’t know about Cole, about that night, about Rae.

  Nausea burns in the pit of my stomach, and the heart monitor reacts by sputtering an erratic sequence of beeps.

  What am I going to say to him? Should I lie; say I didn’t mean to take so many pills? Should I tell the truth? If I do, though, he’ll ask me why, and I can’t tell him. At least, not the full reason.

  A few tears slip from my eyes as I massage my aching chest. The weight is there, heavier than ever. Maybe even heavier. What if it’s always there? What if the pain and exhaustion never go away? What if I feel like this forever? What if I can’t move on?

  You don’t deserve to.

  Memories choke at me …

  “Please let us go,” Rae cries from beside me, her shoulders heaving as she draws her knees to her chest.

  I reach out to grab her hand, but Del grabs my wrists and forces my arms behind my back.

  “No touching,” he says as he binds my wrists together with a rope. “Not until we play the game.”

  “Game?” Rae sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks. “What game?”

  Del moves in front of her and puts his face in front of hers. “The game where one of you lives and one of you dies.”

  I blink from the memory and continue to cry until I realize how easily people in the hallway can see into my room. A nurse keeps glancing in, as if checking on me. Maybe that’s the point of the windows—to observe my mental stability.

  I hurriedly wipe the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand then focus on drinking the water because that’s easy, and right now, I need easy. Eventually, the doctor comes in and has a conversation with me about how I’m feeling. Then he informs me that I have to speak to a therapist before I can go home.

  “But if everything goes okay,” he says as he distractedly reads through the papers on the clipboard, “you should be able to go home tomorrow morning.”

  I nod. Home. What home? I don’t have one anymore.

  After the doctor leaves, Nurse Mia pops back into the room.

  “You think you’re up for visitors now?” she asks, refilling my water.

  No. I nod, anyway.

  “Good. I’ll send your brother in.” She checks the monitor and my IV bag then makes a few notes on my chart.

  I find myself analyzing her, wondering what her story is. She’s only a few years older than me, yet she obviously has her life together; at least enough that she was able to get through school and become a nurse. I think about my old friends back home and wonder how they are doing. Are they like Mia—focused and determined? Did any of them end up like me—a hot mess who ruined their own life and someone else’s? Do they regret any of their choices? Or are they happy with how their lives turned out?

  “Everything looks good,” Mia tells me then turns and walks out, leaving me alone again.

  For the next five minutes, I mentally go over what I’m going to say to Loki, but when he enters the room, my preparation flies out the window, and my mind blanks.

  Less than a year has passed since the last time I saw him, but he looks different, older. His button-down shirt and jeans are wrinkled, his face is unshaven, and his brown hair is sticking up all over the place—I’m sure from raking his fingers through the strands.

  Our dad used to do the same thing whenever he was stressed. About a year before he died, his hair was starting to thin. I wonder if Loki will be the same way. I wonder what Dad would say to me if he were here. I wonder if I could confess to him what I think I may have done.

  “You look tired,” I say, noting the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes.

  Loki lingers in the doorway, worriedly eyeing me over. “So do you.”

  We stare at each other for a beat, the silence building, a brick wall forming around us.

  Finally, he strides up to my bed and clasps my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me how hard it was getting for you? I could’ve done something. I should’ve done something.”

  “It’s not that easy.” I stare at the clock on the wall, watching the second hand tick.

  Tick, tock, tick, tock. Why is it moving so slowly? Did time freeze or something?

  “I didn’t want to worry anyone,” I whisper. “You guys have your own problems. You don’t need to deal with mine, too.”

  He lets go of my hand and sinks into a chair beside my bed. “Mom and Dad left me in charge. It’s my job to worry about you guys. You need to realize that.”

  I keep my attention on the wall clock as tears threaten to pour out. Only a minute has gone by. Only one single minute, yet it feels like an eternity of time is moving past me while I remain motionless.

  “No, it’s your job to worry about Nikoli, Alexis, Zhara, and Annabella. I’m twenty years old and should be able to take care of myself. I’m not your responsibility or anyone else’s.”

  “You really believe you should just deal with this on your own?” he asks, sounding hurt.

  I nod, even though I don’t want to believe that. I don’t want to deal with this on my own. I want our mom and dad to be here. I want to hear Mom tell me that everything will be okay and that they forgive me for everything I did. I want Dad to hug me and tell me he loves me. I want Mom to help me through the dark, lightning storm nights. I want to go back to the day I decided to move here and stay in Honeyton, instead.

  “If Mom and Dad were here, you’d talk to them,” he utters quietly, seeming to read my mind. “You should be able to talk to me.”

  “Loki, you’re two years older than me … Mom and Dad never expected you to take care of me.” I fight back the tears as I stare at that damn clock. Only another minute has gone by.

  Why can’t time move more quickly? Why can’t this conversation be over? Why can’t the ache in my chest fix itself? What’s wrong with me? Why am I such a mess?

  “If anything, they probably expected me to help you out.”

  He swiftly shakes his head. “They didn’t expect you to move back after the accident. In the will, Mom and Dad said they wanted me—”

  “I know what the will said.” My eyelashes flutter as I blink back the tears. “But I know Mom and Dad. If they were in my shoes right now, they would’ve moved back home to help you.”

  He shakes his head determinedly. “They wanted you to finish school. They talked about it all the time. They were so proud of you and everything you accomplished.”

  “They wouldn’t be if they knew everything.” I break down, sobbing. “I fucked up so badly, Loki. You don’t even know.”

  He places his hand over mine, and even though I don’t deserve it, I grip on tightly.

  “Then tell me.” He squeezes my hand. “Help me understand.”

  I choke back the tears. “I don’t think I can … It’s too terrible.”

  “Jessa, this is me. I won’t judge you. I’ve done some messed up shit in my past. You know that.”

  “Yeah, but it’s different now … You’re different.”

  “I might be different, but I still won’t judge you.” He looks hurt. “You think I would?”

  If only he knew the truth, then he wouldn’t say that.

  No, there’s no way I can tell him what I might have done to Rae that night in order to stay alive. But I have to tell him something. So I tell him about getting kicked out of school, losing my job, and how I am just so tired of everything.

  “I wish you would’ve told me you were going through this,” he says after I’m finished.

  “I didn’t want to worry you.” I wipe the tears from my eyes and sniffle. “I should be able to take care of myself. I’m not a kid anymore. I need to grow up.”

  “Everyone needs help once in a while, Jessa. Even I do.”

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, concerned he might have more problems than he’s letting on.

  He wavers then
nods. “It is now, but there was a while there when … it wasn’t.”

  I’m not sure what he’s talking about, but he changes the subject before I can ask.

  “I want you to come home with me.” He puts on a no nonsense expression. “I think it might be good for you.”

  “I’m not going to go home so you can keep an eye on me.” Even though I want to. But I can’t put my problems on him. “I won’t do that to you.” I reach for the cup of water on the bedside table.

  He tugs his fingers through his hair, his gaze skimming the hospital room. “I can’t let you end up here again. And I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think you might need some help. Maybe even some therapy.”

  “I’m not crazy,” I whisper. Am I? Taking another life, even to save yours… That’s crazy, right?

  How can you know for sure you did it? All you have to go by is what Del and Cole told you. Threatened you with. They could’ve lied.

  But you had blood on your hands and clothes. How did that get there?

  I release a shaky breath. “I just … didn’t know how to handle everything. It was all so … overwhelming.”

  “I know you’re not crazy. I also know this can’t just be tossed aside.” His voice drops to a solemn tone. “If Mom and Dad were here right now, you know they’d ask you to come home, too, even if it was just until you got back on your feet.”

  I focus on taking a long sip of water, giving myself time to put together a response.

  Going home means risking the possibility of my other brother and sisters finding out that I almost gave up and put them through hell again.

  What happens if they all find out my secret?

  They’ll hate me. And for a good reason.

  I stare at the cup in my hands. “Who’s watching Alexis, Nik, and Zhara? Is Anna?”

  “No, Easton is.” He reclines back in the chair. “You remember him, right?”

  “Of course I do. He’s your friend you used to get high with in the garage.”

  “He’s not like that anymore. Just like I’m not.”

  “I know that.” Guilt crushes my chest. Loki stepped in and grew up. Why can’t I?

  “I almost left Anna in charge. She’s doing better and everything, but I didn’t think it was a good idea when I was flying out of the country and won’t be close by in case something happens.” He props his foot on his knee. “I did leave her in charge of the store, though.”

  God, even my younger sister has her shit together.

  “Do any of them know about this? That I tried to …” I falter, unable to say the words out loud.

  He shakes his head. “And I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to.” He leans forward, placing a hand over mine. “Come home with me. Let us help you.”

  I close my eyes as I suck in a sharp inhale, recollecting the helpless feeling before I took the pills and then afterward. I don’t ever want to feel that way again, yet I’m unsure how to make that happen. I need to find a way to start over, to figure stuff out, to let go and forget that terrible night that started my tumble into a seemingly bottomless abyss. Maybe going home is the best thing right now. Besides, I don’t really have a choice. I won’t have a place to live soon, and now that I’m not in school, there’s no reason to stay in London.

  Plus, moving away means getting away from Del and Cole and their threatening text messages.

  Shame and disappointment threaten to strangle me. I bottle it down, though.

  “All right, I’ll go home with you.”

  The tension visibly loosens in Loki’s shoulders. “Good. I’m glad you made this easy. I spent the entire plane ride planning a speech if you said no.”

  “What was the speech about?”

  “I’d honestly rather not tell you. You know I suck at giving speeches.”

  “You used to, but not so much anymore. You’re different now.”

  “I know.” He fiddles with the top button of his shirt, his voice coming out strained. “I had to grow up.”

  I can tell it takes him a lot to admit that out loud. I wonder if he ever talks about it with anyone—how he had to give up his life to move home and take care of four teenagers. I wonder if he regrets it.

  “I’m just glad you’re coming home.” He chokes up. “When Milo called and told me what was going on, I thought—”

  “Milo?” I sit up straight, ignoring the dizziness sloshing through my head. “Why did Milo call you?”

  “Because you called him right after you took the pills.” His brows knit. “Don’t you remember?”

  “I didn’t know who I called. I just pushed one of my contact numbers.”

  I press my hand to my throbbing forehead. Shit. Shit. Shit. Why, out of all people, did I dial Milo’s number?

  Besides from the funeral, I haven’t spoken to him since I stomped all over his heart. Not intentionally. The pain in his eyes when we parted ways that night still haunts me to this day. And then I called him and forced him into this shitty mess that’s my life.

  I’m the worst person ever.

  “Milo’s a good guy.” Loki misreads my worry. “I’m sure he won’t tell anyone.”

  “I know he won’t.”

  Milo gossiping isn’t what I’m concerned about. He’s too sweet to do that. He’s also too sweet to let this go. He will want to talk to me, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for that.

  “Did you call and tell him I was all right?”

  “Yeah, I did.” He pauses. “You should probably talk to him when you feel up to it. He’s really worried about you.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” Just thinking about being close to Milo has my stomach winding into nervous knots.

  “Just think about it.” Loki pushes to his feet. “I’m going to find the doctor and see how much longer you have to stay here. Then I can book us a flight back. If you want, I can go to your loft and start packing up your stuff. Or I can stay here if you need me to.”

  “There’s not that much to pack,” I shamefully admit. “I don’t think I have the key on me.”

  “I’ll stay here, then,” he says, rubbing his weary eyes.

  “Thanks.” I’m more grateful than words can express. After all, whether or not I want to admit it, I’m terrified of being alone.

  While I wish I could believe I’m better, I fear the moment I’m released and have to step back into the real world.

  Three

  I rest my head against the plane’s window and close my eyes, trying to take a powernap before we land. The second my eyelids shut, my thoughts uncontrollably drift back to a memory I hate. Regardless, no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the images out of my head.

  “Come on; it’s just a little lightning storm,” Cole says as we walk toward his house with Rae and Del. Or more like stumble.

  I feel dizzier than I normally do. Sure, I drank a lot but … Why do I feel so dizzy and foggy-headed?

  “I promise it’ll be worth the walk.”

  I stare up at the rain showering from the stormy clouds, raindrops soaking through my dress and hair. “I hate when it’s lightning.”

  “It’s just a little storm. Stop being overdramatic.” He moves up behind me and puts his hands on my hips. “Besides, I promise it’ll be worth it. We’re going to have so much fun. In fact, we’re going to play a little game.”

  “A game …” I slur as I stumble. “What kind of game?”

  “Oh, I promise you’re going to have a blast.” He winks at me, his lips curling up into a smile as he catches me in his arms. His fingers are cold against my skin, and I shiver, feeling dizzy. So dizzy … “Don’t worry,” he whispers in my ear. “Tomorrow’s going to be a new day, and you’re going to be an entirely new person.”

  “But … I like who I am.” Don’t I?

  He grips me tighter, rougher. I try to pull away, but I clumsily stagger in my heels.

  Something’s not right.

  I hear Rae laugh in the background. Why is she laughing when I’m scared out of m
y damn mind?

  It’s the last time she laughs.

  I snap my eyes open as the pilot’s voice comes over the intercom, announcing we are starting our descent. I shove the memory away and bury it way, way down where I hopefully will never have to see them again. Then I sit up, stretching my arms above my head.

  I only have about an hour of preparation time before we are home; an hour until I see my other brother and my sisters. I should be excited, but after the last week, I feel overwhelmed.

  “You doing okay?” Loki asks from beside me.

  “Yeah.” I give a pressing glance at his fingernails digging into the armrests. “Are you?”

  I feel sorry for him. He has always hated flying, and we have been on this plane for almost eight hours.

  He bobs his head up and down. “Of course.”

  I put my hair back in a ponytail and secure it with an elastic. “You should’ve said yes to the flight attendant’s offer on the mini bottles.”

  He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m all right. I need to be sober right now.”

  I feel a sting of guilt, knowing the underlying reason for his sudden sobriety. It’s the same reason he hasn’t let me out of his sight since I was released from the hospital a couple of days ago. He’s worried I might try to attempt suicide again, something I overheard him discuss with the hospital therapist when they stepped out into the hallway to speak privately. I heard enough to get the gist of their conversation.

  “If possible, someone should probably stay with her for a little while to keep an eye on her,” the therapist suggests to Loki as he hands him a card. “She should definitely consider therapy. The problems she’s dealing with aren’t just going to go away.”

  “All right, we definitely will. But she’s going home with me, back to the States, so we’ll have to find a therapist there.” Stress edges every syllable Loki utters.

  I wanted to hug him, tell him I will fix myself, that he didn’t need to worry about me. However, I was hooked up to an IV and monitors, and getting up wasn’t an option. Besides, he probably wouldn’t have believed me. No one seemed to believe anything I said, not the nurse, the doctor, or the therapist. They all acted like I was made of glass, about to shatter again.