Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
I should appreciate their concern and the fact that they give a damn where I am and what I’m doing, but my mind can’t hold any other thoughts right now, so I turn off my notifications, hit the corner store and drive a few miles outside of town without a destination in mind. The first turn after the city limits sign is the one I take, and I bury my truck in the middle of an orchard. Hiding my keys in the glovebox, I drop the tailgate and climb up.
I’m not a drinker, never have been, but tonight, I’ll drink like a pro.
Some bottom shelf vodka is the liquor of choice. It’s disgusting, burns like a bitch, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk toward the whiskey, not when I would have done nothing but picture drowning in a certain set of eyes, so I drown in clear liquor instead.
I drink until the last drop, the need to get trashed high.
I want to black out , to shut down fully and completely, because if my girl doesn’t remember us, I don’t want to remember anything.
Not even my own fucking name.
For the first time in my life, I wish I were someone else.
I wish I were him.
Chapter 40
Arianna
* * *
A flash of blue jolts me awake, and when I open my eyes, Cameron is there.
“Hey, girlfriend.” She yawns, her upper body bent over in her chair, her head lying on my legs. She folds her arms under her cheek and smiles. “How’s the head?”
“Heavy, but not excruciating anymore. My ribs are an entirely different story.”
“I bet.”
Glancing around the room, I spot Mason draped over the corner chair, the rest of the space clear.
“Brady and Chase went home a couple hours ago to shower and get some sleep. Mase wouldn’t budge, of course.”
The corner of my mouth lifts, but I look away when moisture builds in my eyes and I don’t even know why. “What day is it?”
She’s quiet a moment before she whispers, “It’s still December twenty-ninth. You were only asleep for a couple hours.” Her tone is thick with worry.
I nod, but my lips begin to quiver, and she sits up, Mason quickly coming to my side. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why this keeps happening.”
“Don’t apologize. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you woke up. Of course you’re going to emotional, we understand, and we’re just happy you’re okay.”
“Am I?”
Mase reaches out, but I shake my head, wiping the tears away before they fall. My chest aches with my full inhale, but I suffer through it, trying to force away the millions of emotions dizzying up my mind.
“Ari—”
“I wish Mom and Dad were here.” I cry, my shoulders shaking, and Mason shifts, sitting at the edge beside me on the bed now.
“I know you do. Me too.” He hugs me to him, his voice cracking. “I’ve tried everything, but they’ll call us as soon as they’re back on land. Should only be two more days, tops.”
Two more days until I’ll get to hear my mom’s voice, until my dad is here promising everything will be okay and begs for instructions on what he can do to make it better.
I don’t know what can be made better, if anything.
I’m too afraid to think past what I know, and apparently, I don’t know shit. Nothing recent, anyway.
The doctor said this happens more than people realize, that memory loss, while less common than not, isn’t abnormal in concussion-related injuries. He said as soon as my brain has had time to heal, things will slowly come back to me, that they’re hopeful, and I should be too.
I want to be, but there’s this helplessness I can’t shake, and I think my twin senses it.
Sniffling, I look up, and he wipes my tears with the pads of his thumbs, attempting a smile, but it never quite breaks free.
“If you do get a hold of them, I don’t think we should tell them until they’re home.” I try to busy his mind with something a little less about me. “They’ll just stress the whole way back.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” He nods, rubbing his eyes like he used to do when we were little.
I reach out, gripping his hand. “Go home, Mase.”
His head jerks my way, and he sits up straight. “What, no, I’m good.”
“No, I’m good, I promise.” When it’s obvious he doesn’t agree, I add, “Plus, I want to try and take a shower. Nurse Becky said I can, with help. I just have to work around my IV.”
“I can help,” he argues.
“Mase, your sister will be naked in said shower,” Cameron teases, knowing he didn’t think it through. “Just go, I went home for a few hours last night, and we both know Ari will be bored of hearing us and ready to pass out again in another hour anyway.” She pokes fun.