Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 104138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104138 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Surprisingly, I’m not angry like I was when Tess suggested the same thing. This time I simply picture James’ face, the way I feel when he looks at me. It makes me smile. “I can’t.”
“Got it bad, eh?”
“Yeah.” I blow out a humourless chuckle. “I’ve never felt this way before. Sometimes I wonder why, you know? We’re so different. What made us click?”
Eyes on the road, Tom shrugs. “Love - one of life’s great mysteries. Take Jennifer. Initially she seemed no different to any other woman I’ve chased. I planned to get in her knickers and move on to the next, but as soon as I started talking to her there was just…something. I didn’t know what it was, just that I wanted more. I don’t know how love works, but it’s something you don’t get to decide. It just…happens.”
“Wow. Check us out. It’s like we’re real grown ups.”
Tom laughs. “How’s this for grown up? We bought a pram yesterday. It’s at Mum’s. Apparently it’s bad luck to bring it in the house before the baby’s born, or some shit like that.”
“Yeah? I still can’t imagine you with a baby.”
“Me either. I’m hoping knowing how to keep it alive is another one of those things that just happens,” he says with an equal mix of humour and nerves in his voice.
“You’ll be fine. Your biggest challenge will be getting Mum to leave you alone.”
Tom pulls into the KFC drive-through and I tell him to order a Boneless Bucket before handing him a twenty-pound note. We don’t speak much on the way to James’ apartment, and when we do it’s about trivial stuff, like Tom’s expectations of the latest Star Wars film. Personally, I couldn’t give less of a shit if I tried. I haven’t seen a single one of them. Star Trek, however, is another story. I grew up watching them every Sunday with my dad.
After getting us into James’ building by tapping in the door-code, I tell Tom to wait in the hall when we reach his apartment. I just want to check on him, make sure he’s not naked, and forewarn him I’ve brought Tom to look at his hand so he doesn’t flip out.
He’s not in the main living space when I walk inside so I check his office. When I don’t find him there, I assume he must still be sleeping and head to the bedroom.
“James?” I call.
No answer. Hmm.
I’m about to leave, maybe call his mobile to see where he is, when I notice the bathroom door is slightly ajar. It doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it’s unusual. Everyone has little quirks, things they’re a little anal over, and one of James’ is making sure the door is always closed when the room’s not in use.
I step forward, planning to close it, but not before peering inside in case he’s there.
“Oh my God, James!”
Dropping the bag of food where I stand, I rush to the bathtub - the room, my whole world, suddenly spinning.
“Tom!” I yell, my hand stuttering over James’ lifeless body, not knowing where to touch, what to do. “Thomas!”
James is lying in a pool of red water, his right arm limp, dangling over the edge of the bath. “Oh God, baby. What have you done?” I fall to my knees, the thick, dark pool of blood soaking into my pants.
His eyes are closed, his head flopped to one side. I raise it, cupping his cheeks and pressing my forehead to his. “No, no, no. James. Oh God, James. Thomas!”
“I’m here, I’m here-” Tom cuts himself off when he steps into the bathroom. He pauses for just a second before flying into autopilot, trying to pull me out of the way.
I shrug out of his grip, my hand trying to touch every part of James’ body all at once.
“Theodore move. Let me help him.”
Right. Help him. Yes.
Nodding slowly, I gently rest James’ head back onto the ceramic lip of the bathtub before stumbling to my feet. As Tom swoops into my position, I try to wipe the tears from my damp cheeks, but my hands are wet, coated with bloody water.
“Call nine nine nine,” Tom says, two fingers pressed against James’ neck. There are several empty pill bottles and two boxes scattered on the floor and Tom picks them up, scanning the labels quickly, before throwing them back where he found them.
He took tablets, too? Oh, James…
“Is he…”
“The ambulance, Theo! Now! Put them on speaker.”
With shaky hands, I do as I’m told, setting the phone down on the tiles surrounding the sink. I take a step back, watching the scene unfolding in front of me through cloudy vision, my heart so heavy it feels like it could drag me to the floor.
After requesting an ambulance, my ears tune out as Tom uses technical words and spouts random numbers. I don’t know if he’s alive, if I’ll ever hear his voice again, and it feels like a piece of me is dying.
Blood. It’s everywhere. It’s so dark, so thick, and it’s pouring out of his wrists in globular spurts. In parts, the slashes in his flesh are masked by tattoos, making it difficult to tell where the ink ends and the blood begins.
“Theo, I need you to lift his legs, help me get him onto the floor.”
What have you done, James? What have you fucking done?
“Theo!” Tom is right in front of me, his hands on my shoulders, and I’ve no idea how he got there. All I can see is James, and blood. So much blood.
“Theodore, look at me.”
Somehow, I manage to do as he asks.
“I need your help. James needs your help. Are you with me?”
I nod, I think.
My body starts moving automatically and, rubbing the tears from my eyes, I follow Tom’s lead.
“Remember his skin is wet. Get a firm grip,” Tom instructs as I anchor my hands under James’ limp thighs. “On my count. One, two…three.”
Water laps over the rim of the bath as we lift, splashing my legs before settling into a shallow pool on the tiled floor. We move him to a dry area and, once he’s safely on the floor, I just stand, rubbing my arms, not knowing what to do. I don’t know if James is breathing and I’m too terrified of the answer to ask Tom.