Tor sighed. “Maybe Dalton hasn’t gotten you off in a nasty ass bar bathroom,” he retorted, mocking me, “but you two did share a bed. You two cuddled. When your mom called, Dalton was the person you sought out. He’s your rock, Jesse, and I won’t lie and say I understand what’s happened because I don’t. We moved here and something changed. What the fuck changed, Jesse?”
“Dalton agreed it would be best if we all had our own rooms,” I said quietly. “That’s what changed. The moment he…” I drew in a shaky breath. “The moment he realized this house was big enough for us all to have our own space, it was like he couldn’t wait for it. Like he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.”
“Oh, Jesse…” Tor whispered. “I don’t think it was like that. I think you’re both confused, and I think there’s a huge lack of communication. You two need to talk.”
“How?” I rasped, on the verge of tears. I didn’t want to cry. “What if he turns me down, Tor? What then? Delia is already trying to force us to be a couple in front of the cameras like she did with you and Salem. If he rejects me and I still have to fake that shit…”
Tor squeezed my fingers. “I know. Trust me, Jesse, if anyone knows that kind of torment, it’s me, remember?” He rolled me onto my side and hugged me tight to him. I sank into his embrace, tears burning in my eyes, threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. “But it’s better to know where you stand than to feel like this, Jesse. If he turns you down—and I don’t think he will, but if he does—you can at least attempt to move on. But you won’t be able to let go of him if you don’t have all the answers.”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I remained quiet. Tor, somehow sensing that I just needed the silence and the comfort of another person so I wasn’t alone, just held me tighter, tangling our legs together. A tear ran down my cheek as I closed my eyes, and when I began to cry harder, he just clung to me, resting his chin on the top of my head.
I was a fucking mess, and I had a feeling shit was only going to get worse from there. Because for me, nothing could ever be easy or simple.
9
Jesse
I jerked out of my sleep, my heart lurching into my throat. It took a split second for me to realize what’d woken me up.
Someone was knocking on my bedroom door. Groaning, I glanced at the clock on my nightstand—yeah, I had one of those but it was because I liked the red glow from them. It added more dim light to my room at nighttime. I couldn’t stand the dark. Too many bad thoughts bombarded me at night, and the shadows liked to taunt me.
It was only two in the morning. Who the hell would be bothering me at this time?
Sighing, I slipped out of bed, realizing at the same time that I was alone. Tor must have slipped from my room after I’d fallen asleep. Wasn’t surprising though. If he hadn’t left, I had no doubt Salem would have come to drag him back to their room.
Rubbing at my eyes and wincing at how sore and swollen they felt, I made my way to my bedroom door. Swinging it open, I blinked at Spike, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the light in the hallway.
“What is it?” I mumbled, yawning.
Spike stepped back a little, jerking his head in the direction of the end of the hall. “Police are here asking to speak to you, and they said they can’t wait until it’s a more decent hour.”
Frowning, I slipped past him and headed for the front door. Spike followed, which I was thankful for. I was no stranger to cops, and while I knew they were meant to serve and protect, they only filled me with dread. There was only so many times a cop could come to your house with social workers to place you in temporary foster care before you just immediately got a sense of dread and doom around them.
With a trembling hand, I grasped the silver handle and pulled the front door open. Two officers were standing on the front porch, and even though there were no social workers present and I was now an adult, nausea still swirled in my gut at the sight of them.
“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice still rough with sleep.
“Jesse Link?” the officer closest to me asked. When I nodded, he sighed. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, kid, but your mother overdosed a few hours ago.” He handed me a business card. My ears were already beginning to ring, and I was pretty sure I was going to puke. “You can contact this gentleman when you’re ready to move your mother to a funeral home or a crematorium.” He bowed his head to me respectfully. “I’m sorry for your loss, son.”
With that, they walked off the porch and back to their car. I stared after them, my knees shaking so badly, I only remained standing because I was gripping the doorhandle with a death grip. Spike gripped my upper arms and gently eased me back. When he realized I wasn’t letting go of the front door, he gently pried my fingers loose and nudged the door shut with his foot. Reaching around me, he locked it, then supported me as he led me toward the living room.
My ears were ringing. My heart was beating too fast. My gut churned, and the room spun.
I dropped onto the couch, my entire body trembling. I’d sent her that money, and she’d no doubt shot it all up her veins or swallowed it all in booze and pills. She’d OD’d because of me.
“I’m going to be sick,” I choked out.
Spike quickly grabbed the small trash can beneath the side table and thrust it at me. I wrapped my arms around it and proceeded to empty my stomach, my retching loud in the otherwise silent house. Spike rubbed my back, doing his best to support me.
As soon as he took the bucket from me, I leaned into his side and proceeded to sob, completely falling apart. That woman had never done anything for me. She’d neglected me and abused me all my life, but I’d still loved her. Still held hope that maybe one fucking day, she’d change. But instead, I’d inadvertently killed her.
I curled into myself and buried my face in my knees, my hands coming up to tug at my hair so roughly, my scalp smarted, and strands came loose in my fists.
“Jesse, come on,” Spike urged. “Don’t hurt yourself. She’s not worth it.”
I shook my head, needing to hurt before I completely fucking lost myself in my pain and heartache. “Please get Dalton,” I cried. My chest was caving in. “I need Dalton.”
Spike quickly got up. I cried harder, my chest burning. Pain bled through my veins, making my muscles ache. I couldn’t fucking breathe. Why was breathing so goddamn hard?