ryder
My phone buzzessoftly on the nightstand. I ignore it, tightening my hold on the sleeping girl in my arms. But when it buzzes again a minute later, three insistent vibrations, I sigh and roll over to look at the screen, careful not to wake Felicity.
A jolt moves through me when I see several texts from Lincoln. I’m surprised to hear from him. He’s out at The Viper Room with Aiden, but he already knows I’m staying in tonight — and for the foreseeable future — with Felicity. He also knows how hard I’ve been trying to fix things with her, since our confrontation before the launch party last night.
My brow furrows as I slide open the tab to read his messages.
Hi —
Found this phone on your friend at The Viper.
You were the last contact he texted.
He’s in rough shape. Any chance you can come get him?
If the bouncers find him, they might call an ambulance.
Or the cops.
— Good Samaritan
Shit.
I slide out of bed, feet moving soundlessly on the carpet as I pull on my jeans and tug a t-shirt over my head. I cast one last glance back at Felicity before I leave. She’s curled around a pillow, sleeping soundly. Her mouth is parted slightly, her hair tumbling loose across the pillows in the moonlight. My throat tightens.
She’s so goddamned beautiful.
I can’t believe I almost lost her. I can’t believe I ever put what we have together at risk. It’s the most important part of my life.She’sthe most important part of my life — a fact I plan on proving to her today and every day for the rest of our lives, if she’ll let me. My eyes linger on the bedside table for a moment and a smile twists my lips up.
All day long, whenever the need to pop a pill has surged through me, I’ve focused on my future with Felicity and the cravings have seemed slightly easier to shoulder. I feel like utter shit — keyed up, pounding migraine, sweaty and pale — but like I told her…
If it’s a choice between you and some pills… I choose you, Felicity. I choose you every goddamned time. From now until forever.
I contemplate leaving a note, but quickly decide against it. I’ll be back before she can miss me, and there’s no time.
If Linc’s in trouble; I’m there. No questions asked.
I pull on my boots at the door, grab my keys off the hook, and start running. It’s not far — fifteen minutes, tops. Faster, if I manage to flag down a cab. I just hope I make it in time.
* * *
The Viper Roomis a popular spot for both tourists and locals hoping to catch a show on the famous Sunset Strip. Everyone from Johnny Cash to Elvis Costello to Tom Petty has performed within its dark walls and it’s quickly become one of Linc’s favorite places to spend a night out. The bouncers recognize me at the door — a new perk of my life as a quote-unquotestar— and let me skip the line without so much as blinking.
I move through the club looking for Linc’s familiar blond buzz cut, cutting through the dense crop of people head-banging to the grunge rock band on stage. There’s no sign of him on the dance floor, at the tables, or by the bar, so I head for the bathrooms. The red walls are covered floor-to-ceiling with stickers from all the bands who’ve performed here over the years. I pass by the urinals and finally spot two feet sticking out from beneath the last stall on the left. Linc is slumped beside the toilet, looking a bit worse for wear.
“Linc!” I slap his cheek lightly, trying to rouse him. “You okay, man?”
His glazed eyes crack open a sliver.
“What did you take?” I ask, shaking him.
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, speech so slurred it’s hard to make out a single word. “I’m good.”
He’s definitely notgoodby any stretch of the imagination, but I take it as a good sign that he’s sober enough to form words.
“Let’s get you out of here, Linc.”
“Jacket,” he mutters.