Nolan smirks, eyes glinting. “You did a good job fucking Adri,” he says with an infuriating smirk. “Whole penthouse probably heard her screaming over the music.”
My stomach twists. I nod. Heart racing so fast it’s like itmight tear right out of my chest. The meth, the alcohol, and the adrenaline...they’re twisting my body inside out.
I feel like I’m going to die.
Micah clears his throat. “Think we should, uh...head back to the hotel?”
Nolan laughs, amused. “Have a good sleep, boys.”
I mutter, but it doesn’t even come out as words.
Micah glances at me, eyes wide. “Come on.” He guides us away from the vultures, and when we’re a safe distance, he asks, “What, man?”
I hand him my phone. “Call Emma. N—now.”
He waits until we’re outside, under the chilly Portland night, and then he calls. My ears are ringing, my body is still buzzing from everything.
Suddenly, she’s there, and I collapse into the backseat. My head falls into Micah’s lap. He’s talking quietly to her. My chest clenches. My hands fumble at my pants, and I feel him buckling me back up without a word.
“I fucked up,” I mutter, but I’m not sure if it comes out that way.
The car doors shut, and the ride becomes a blur. City lights smear past the windows in streaks of gold and white. I stare up at the streetlights as they slide by overhead, my vision unfocused.
“Hey. You okay, man?” Micah asks quietly, his thumb brushing my cheek.
“I can’t d—do this.” The words barely make it out. My voice cracks as I squeeze his hand, my whole body starting to shake.
I just killed two people in one night.
I just took two lives.
“Hey.” Micah gently takes my chin, turning my head toward him. “Look at me.”
My gaze drags back to his face. Everything is blurry, but I can still see the worry etched across it. “I l—love you, M—Micah,” I mumble, the words slurring together.
His grip tightens around my hand.
By the time we get to the hotel, I can barely stand. Micah guides me inside, steadying me. My legs give way, and I collapse onto the floor of a room with two queen beds. The rough carpet scrapes against my cheek as the room spins.
Then I hear her. Her voice. It’s sweet, but it’s trembling.
She’s scared.
I’m sorry I’m like this.
It cuts through the disorientation, through the drugs, through everything that’s making me feel like I’m burning from the inside.
“No...I’m s—sorry. I’m f—fucking sorry, b—baby.”
And just like that, I’m shattered.
Chapter nineteen
EMMA EASTON
I clutch the phone like it’s the only thing keeping me tethered to him, to the chaos I can’t see but can feel in every tremor of Micah’s voice.
“He...he had to—he snapped and killed people,” Micah says, his hands trembling slightly as he keeps the line steady. “He’s in bad fucking shape, Emma.”