I laid under a bask of sunlight, sipping on my sixth glass of margarita. Andrea was having a ball doing the typical tourist activities for the past hour. Probably every man at the beach was gawking at her hourglass figure fitted in a barely even there gold two-piece bikini that stuck to her like second skin. While I was, as she put it, sulking and getting drunk at some corner.
The beach was beyond stunning. The tropical heat was a fine change. The sights were breathtaking. But I've seen everything before. The thrill of being in such a beautiful place only lasted for about fifteen minutes and then there was nothing else worth being awed for.
"Jelly Bean!" I heard Andrea squeal.
I cringed at that abominable nickname.
She jogged towards me, her ample breasts bouncing at each step while she cupped them with both hands. I slipped my aviators over my head and sat up, only to be tackled by her when she caught me off guard with an open mouthed kiss.
I muttered a curse but it fell on deaf ears as she shoved her tongue in my mouth while I tried not to spill my drink. When she pulled away, seeing the wicked grin on her lips and the wide eyed men around us, I knew what she had gotten bored playing by herself.
I rolled my eyes, sighing when she sat by my feet with her back to me. I took the straps to her bikini top and tied them together. It was the third time already.
"If you keep flashing people, you'll probably get arrested," I muttered.
She snorted. "As if. They're enjoying the show too much."
Of course they did. I was very aware that an audience was gathered around us, mostly of men, vying to get her attention. She only enticed them more by ignoring each one of them.
"Still, this isn't a nudist beach. And please stop dragging me into your games. I don't want to have my face plastered on the tabloids with your tongue down my throat," I muttered in annoyance, sipping on my drink.
"You're such a party pooper."
She took my glass and downed the drink in one breath. I rolled my eyes and gestured at a nearby waiter to get me another.
"Seriously, babe. We're in one of your favorite places in the world and you're fucking brooding! Can you please cut the emo shit for a little bit? You won't get laid if you keep it up."
I scoffed. "I don't give a shit."
"You never do." She sighed. "You know, something tells me that you're hiding something."
I shrugged, taking the glass the waiter handed me. "I'm always hiding something."
She rolled her eyes. "Oh right, the great Angel Lastor and her even greater mystery," she mocked. "We both know that trick doesn't work on me, babe."
I smirked, sipping lightly on my drink. "What trick?"
She let out an irritated groan. "I swear, I'm getting tired of your shit."
I pursed my lips, looking down at my drink as I traced the rim of the glass with a finger.
"Do you want to leave?"
"What? Don't tell me you want to jet off to somewhere again! We just got here!" she whined.
I shook my head, looking up at her in confusion. "You said you were tired. I just thought..." I trailed off, shaking my head again. "Never mind."
She snorted. "You're so fucking weird. You're lucky I love you," she giggled before smacking her lips against my cheek.
"Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
I shrugged, dipping my pinky into my drink and mixing it. My margarita was way better than this.
"I don't get why you love me. I always leave you and I treat you like shit. How come you've never grown sick of that?"
We've known each other for so long and even I wouldn't care to admit that I didn't treat her any better than I treated other people. She always says she's growing tired of me, or that being with me was boring and a pain. But she never left. She was the only one who never left.
She sighed, moving closer to me and sitting on my lap. "You really don't get it, do you?" she mumbled, gently brushing my hair. "Not loving you is impossible, babe. You're so..." she trailed off, a small smile appearing on her lips. "You're worth the pain, I guess."
"I'm hurting you?"
She shrugged. "Sometimes, but I know you don't do it on purpose."
I frowned, turning my head away. "I always hurt people. Why can't I be good?"
"You are good," she said softly. "It's just... you don't know how to show it. But I get that. Other people don't, that's why they think you're bad. You're not. You're just a little messed up, that's all. We all are."
"You aren't."
She laughed. "I have a shitload of mess, babe. I just hide it better."
I sighed, smiling lightly as I looked up at her. "Promise me you won't ever leave me, Dee."
She rolled her eyes. "You always make me promise that."
"Just say it again."
She smiled. "I promise I won't ever leave you, weirdo."
"Good." I sighed, laying back and slipping my aviators back on. "Now get off my fucking lap."
* * *
Andrea spent the entire day dragging me into doing various activities that I had no interest in. From surfing, to jet skis, to fucking scuba diving. Even volleyball. I humored each one just to shut her up. She would go on saying, 'Please, please, please, please, please, please', repeatedly while bouncing up and down until I relented.
When she finally grew sick of the beach, she decided it was time for a shopping spree. Hoo-fucking-ray.
I ignored her mini fashion show as she fitted various tie dye maxi dresses and shoved my earphones in. I was exhausted. I don't think I've ever been so physically active in one day. I should have known better than to drag her along.
I only wanted to get out of the apartment just so I wouldn't have to deal with Jude constantly looking over my shoulder and sniffing the air I was breathing. Always asking if I was okay. How I was doing. That he was there if I wanted to talk. Just in case I had something to tell him.
I had nothing. I felt like shit. I was riding into some sort of madness that I had no control over. I wanted to be alone. And yet I didn't want to be alone. It was stupid and I was getting angrier by the day.
I often found myself wanting to scream every time this thing inside me would make itself more noticeable. From clawing at my chest to ripping me apart from the inside out. It was redundant, the pain. It won't go away. I've grown so used to it that I couldn't feel anything anymore. I was just numb. Empty. Nothing.
That urge to scream grew.
I snapped my eyes open, taking in a gasping breath. The walls were closing in on me again and I immediately realized I was having a panic attack. Being surrounded by so many people in such a public place only made the panic worse.
I rushed out of the boutique, leaving Andrea calling after me as I pushed and shoved everyone out of my way, not really knowing where I was going. I just needed to run. To get away. To breathe.
I could faintly taste a salty tang in my lips and I realized they were tears. My tears. I didn't know why I was crying. I couldn't stop either.
My chest was clenching, making it a struggle to breathe. People were looking at me, their eyes following my every move. It made me feel uneasy. I needed to get away from them.
I was panting, each breath choking me. When I tripped, I got back up again, pushing away anyone who tried to help me and went back to running. I didn't know for how long I was running but I only stopped when I ran out of ground to run on. I reached the pier.
And then, for some reason, I broke down. I fell to my knees and just started crying. Sobbing like a child. It went on and on. The more I cried, the harder it became to stop.
It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much.
It was driving me crazy. I didn't know what was happening to me. Getting up in the morning was getting harder. Dressing for the day was getting harder. Even breathing was getting harder.
I just wanted to see him. To see if he was as miserable as I was because maybe then it wouldn't be as hard.
I was angry. I've always been angry but now it was more. More intense. More consuming. More maddening.
I've grown tired of acknowledging all the things I felt. I hated emotions. Why did I have to grow a fucking heart right now?
I needed a bottle of something hard enough to make all of this go away but I didn't have any money to finance my addictions. The addictions that kept the demons in my head at bay. The demons that kept me from being with anyone. With him.
Nausea pummeled against my skull like an electric drill trying to make my brain burst and sweat made my clothes cling to me like a five hundred pound fat fucker.
I got up but the moment that I did, I felt myself sway and then everything became a blur before turning black. And then nothing.
* * *
"She's waking up," I heard a voice say. I was sure that came from Jude.
Jude?
"Thank fuck she's not dead!"
"Angel? Can you hear me?"
The last one had my eyes snapping open. It was him.
I jolted up, my eyes frantically taking in my surroundings. I was back in our suite. On a bed. I could feel stares on me, making my skin crawl instinctively, but I didn't even care, my eyes just focused on him. Him. Just him.
He was kneeling by my side, watching me. I shamelessly took him in.
A scruff was growing on his jaw, making him look rugged instead of the clean cut guy that he was. His eyes, they seemed dull and tired while his hair was disheveled as if he had been running his hands through it. The white t-shirt he wore had a blunt stain of what I assumed was mustard.
I lifted a hand, tentatively touching him, to see if he was real. When the tips of my fingers touched his cheek, his scruff prickling my skin, I let out a harsh breath. He was as real as the erratic beating of my heart.
I swallowed hard, meeting his eyes and what I saw clawed at my chest. Pain. Fuck. I did that.
I immediately withdrew my hand but he caught my wrist, a shaky gasp escaping me as his skin burned mine.
I didn't move. I didn't speak. I didn't blink. I didn't breathe. Couldn't.
We stared at each other, our eyes speaking volumes, practically screaming and crying out in agony. The room seemed increasingly small and the walls felt like they were closing in on us as the seconds passed that our gazes remained locked.
I wanted him to say something. Tell me something. Just one word. Maybe my name. I wanted to hear his voice again because God knows how much I've ached to hear him screaming at me for being stubborn and shit.
"This is getting weird," someone said, the voice registering at the back of my mind. Andrea.
"Let's go outside for a minute," another said. Jude.
My eyes snapped over to him and he offered a tight smile before turning and dragging Andrea out of the room. Along with Stella.
What the hell?
The moment the door closed, I immediately felt the air shift into something much denser and heavier. Filled with inexplicable tension.
I turned my attention back to Rick, catching him swallow, his hold on my wrist tightening as he let out a harsh breath that warmed my skin. I opened my mouth to speak but only a flimsy breath came out. I dropped my head, not bearing to look at him anymore.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, screwing my eyes shut as angry tears forced their way out.
"Don't," he bit out. "Don't fucking apologize."
He threw my arm to the side and stood up. I saw his feet retreating, walking away and towards the door. I clutched my head, gripping fistfuls of my hair, the sharp pain that pierced my skull warning me not to look.
He was going to leave. Like everyone else.
He can't.
"Do you hate me?" I croaked out and his footsteps halted.
"Yes."
"Is that why you're leaving?"
"You left me, Angel."
I gritted my teeth, pulling my legs up and wrapping my arms around them.
"I didn't want to."
"You did."
"I was scared."
Something slammed against the wall but I didn't look. I couldn't.
"Then you should have told me," he hissed, sounding so angry.
I sneaked a glance at him and found him standing by the door, bracing himself with both hands against it, his back to me and yet, I could almost feel the heat emanating from his body.
"I... I... I'm sorry…"
"I said, don't fucking apologize," he spat out, heaving out a sigh. "I don't even care anymore. It's over."
"It doesn't look like it's over."
He laughed, the empty sound of it mocking me. "Baby, it was over the moment you walked out my door."
"Why didn't you stop me?"
The muscles on his back tensed. "Are you seriously asking me that?"
"Yes."
"You ran, Angel. Why should I chase after someone who's done nothing but abandon me?"
He might as well have ripped my heart out.
"Will you let me explain?"
He scoffed. "Explain what? What sort of bullshit are you going to give me now?" He turned to face me, fury evident in his features. "That you did it to protect me? That you're bad for me? What! Come on! Give it to me and get it over with!"
I sighed, pressing my temples. "You're angry."
He laughed out loud. "You expect me to jump up and down after you deliberately made my life a living hell?" he quipped. "You must be more fucked up in the head than I expected."
It stung. It really fucking did but I bore it. I deserved that.
I cracked a small smile. "Did that make you feel better?"
He let out a harsh breath, dragging a hand over his face. "I didn't mean that."
I chuckled, leaning back against the headboard. "Of course you did, babe. Let it all out. It's cool. I know I'm fucked up anyways."
He glared. "Don't do that with me right now."
I quirked a brow, smirking. "Do what?"
"Pretending you don't feel anything," he hissed. "I'm not dealing with that bullshit anymore."
I tilted my head to the side, looking at him, my gaze bland.
"Why should I invest my emotions in something that isn't even worth it?" I muttered flatly. "I made a mistake and got too close. Shit happens." I shrugged. "Either way, it doesn't matter. You're off the hook. I got you out of that contract you signed without reading, by the way. Consider yourself saved. From me. Have a nice life. It was nice fucking you."
He approached me, standing by the foot of the bed, his eyes narrowed and digging the way those fucking pair always did.
"You're full of shit, do you know that?"
My brows rose. "Unfortunately, I am not aware of that."
He was grinding his teeth, I could tell.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Tell you what?"
"About the contract. I deserved to know."
I shrugged. "Terms. I can no longer interact with you in exchange for your freedom. This–" I gestured a finger at the space between us. "–is against the terms I agreed on. We're supposed to be non-existent in each other's lives. It can't happen again and I don't know what my brother's intentions were when he brought you here, but it has nothing to do with me."
"It has everything to do with you."
"I have nothing to do with you."
"Bullshit."
"It's not. You mean nothing to me."
"Bullshit!" he yelled out, kicking the bed.
"Jude!" I screamed.
He burst through the door almost instantaneously.
"You told me you'll handle the rest. All I had to do was not see him anymore. This does not look like fucking handled."
He had the gall to look guilty. He opened his mouth, obviously to make up some bullshit excuse that I wasn't going to buy.
"You know what? I don't give a shit," I spat, scrambling off the bed when he moved towards me. "What is he even doing here? Are you fucking with me right now? Are you playing some sort of mind game, huh?!" my voice grew angrier at each word that passed my lips. "You told me I couldn't see him anymore! You told me it was the only way! I let him go and walked away because I had to! You told me to turn it off! Well, I fucking did! Now what the fucking hell is this?"
I jabbed a finger in Rick's direction while they both seemed to have turned into statues. Staring at me. I let it all out, every shit that's been driving me insane. I didn't bother keeping anything in.
"You already took him away, now you're dangling him in front of me. What the fuck is wrong with you?" I hissed, taking a step closer to him. "Do you like torturing me or something? Is this a test? Am I supposed to be pissed or should I pretend that seeing him isn't fucking with my head? What, huh?"
I shoved him and he stumbled back.
"Why are you even here? Did you run out of pets to send after me? Is your life so fucking boring that you have to keep yourself entertained with mine? You enjoy watching me live my miserable life, is that it?"
I shoved him again.
"You can't even say one fucking thing to defend yourself. You're pathetic." I spat at his feet. "Andrea! Get the fuck in here, bitch!"
She came through the door, tiptoeing.
"Yeah?"
"What the fuck is he doing here?"
She pursed her lips, glancing at my brother warily. My anger intensified.
"You called him," I stated matter-of-factly, my hands curling into fists when she nodded. I inhaled a ragged breath. "What did I tell you?"
"Gel... I'm sorry…"
I craned my neck, trying so hard to control my anger but I've already let it take over.
"Tell me what I told you, bitch. What's the one fucking thing I told you not to do?"
She whimpered, fidgeting on her feet. I glared.
"Don't call Jude even if you're dead," she said, whining.
"Exactly, you stupid bitch!" I shrieked, yanking the lamp off the bedside table and hurling it towards her.
She screamed, jumping out of the room and slamming the door shut.
"I'm sorry!" she cried out from the other side of the door. "I was worried! You were doing it again last night, Gel. You were screaming. You know I get scared when you do that and you won't tell me anything! And you keep saying shit about dying and... I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
"Go fuck yourself!" I snarled, throwing the vase at the door. "You're just like him!"
"Angel, calm down. I'll leave if-" Rick began but I cut him off.
"Shut the fuck up!" I let out a harsh breath, falling to my knees. "Please, shut up," I cried, tears escaping my eyes again and I hated it.
I bent over, pressing my forehead against the carpeted floor as I became unable to control the mess of emotions trying to pull me down.
I knew what they were thinking. Every one of them. They were thinking the same thing I've been trying to deny for the better half of my life. That I was in-fucking-sane.
These things inside me. They wouldn't go away. It wasn't me. It was them. But nobody could understand that. They didn't understand. The voices. They kept telling me things. Showing me things. Things that scared me. Things that I just wanted to forget but they kept bringing them back.
Last night, after we spent our first night here hopping on every night club in town. After I ditched Andrea and came back here because I couldn't breathe with so many people around me. After I stuck a needle down my arm to make the shit in my head go away so I could sleep. I dreamt.
It was about him again. The most vicious demon inside me. My father. I was younger, fourteen. It was after I got released from juvie and when I got home, I was welcomed by his belt whipping my face. It was one of the handful of times he couldn't control himself enough to avoid damaging my face.
Everything just became a blur of harsh words and painful blows after that. But the agony, I felt it all. It was like experiencing it all over again. The excruciating pain of him slamming my head against the wall over and over. Stepping on my back when I tried to crawl away. Throwing me in the tub and holding me under until water filled my throat. It wouldn't stop. My only salvation was that I woke up. I was screaming so loud. And like the scared little bitch that I was, I pissed the bed.
Whatever dignity that was left in me vanished after waking up on my own piss at twenty-four years old.
It was like the universe was getting a kick out of mocking me.
"Little Angel..." I heard my brother call.
I was pulled back into reality. Where everything hurt more. I just wanted it to stop.
I sobbed, digging my nails into my scalp, wanting to break my skull open.
"It hurts."
"I know."
I shook my head. "You don't. Nobody knows. No one cares."
"We all care, gel," he tried to convince me.
"Liar," I spat. "You always lie to me. You always break your promises. Everyone does," I whispered through the pathetic sobs I had no control over.
"I'm sorry."
"Oh, go fuck yourself, prick."
"Please, come home."
"I don't have a home."
"You do. With me."
I shook my head, lifting my head up to look at him. "Why do you keep running after me? Why won't you let me go?"
His face broke as he dropped to his knees. Pain, it was there in every inch of him. It was all I ever gave.
"I can't. I'm your brother. I'll always be here."
I laughed, crawling towards him and cupping his cheeks. I looked into his eyes, those beautiful emerald eyes reminding me of the man who haunted me in my sleep. My worst nightmare.
"That's just a lie that you keep telling yourself, Jude," I said, giggling. "You were never there. You're not even here. All you do is live your lies like the coward that you are."
I shoved him away from me and he landed on the floor on his back. He stared up at me, his eyes wide. I tilted my head, my eyes narrowed as I towered over him on my knees. I could see it. I broke him. I didn't care. I was just so angry and I wanted to hurt someone. Break something.
"You're a failure," I carried on. "You hide behind your expensive toys and fancy clothes so people can't see your flaws. Too bad I see them. I see everything. Your worst flaw is that you're a failure. You failed at being a brother. My brother. That's what's been haunting you all these years. That's why you can't sleep at night because all you do is think of how much a failure you are! Think of how many times you could have done something but you never did! Because you're a fucking coward! You did this to me! Leave me alone! I don't need you! I don't want you here! I hate you!"
I ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind me and dropping to my knees. My body was exhausted and inside... inside was this intense rage that just wouldn't disappear. I've been fighting for so long that I just wanted to rest. I had nothing anymore.
I heard the bedroom door slam shut and I let out the scream I've been holding back for years and years. And years. I let it all out. I screamed until it hurt. Until I couldn't breathe anymore. Until all I did was cry while the rage inside me reached the highest point. The point where I couldn't hold it in anymore. I couldn't hide behind my walls anymore.
Everything turned into ruins and I felt everything.