Chapter 184 I've made him complicit.
Chapter 184 I've made him complicit.
CHAPTER 184
I’ve made him complicit.
SAINT
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“Our souls held hands. There are your fingerprints all over my life – Anita Krizan.”
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“Do your friends know who you are, what you are doing with their captain? How you are choking on his cock every night? You’re gonna fuck up your lives for a few minutes of pleasure.” Milo asks, folding his arms.
I drop the drinks and exhale deeply. “How does it feel to lose? You haven’t won a single game this season. That must burn.”
Jace reddens in the face and takes a step towards me.
Yeah, bring it on. I have it out for him. I have been waiting for this moment, waiting to smash his fucking face in. If he thinks he’s shit compared to me, then he is about to be proved very wrong.
“What’s going on? Who let the dogs in?” Reid’s shoulder grazes mine as he stands beside me.
I knew he was going to come. He cannot stay away for long, especially now that he has been watching me.
“Ah, there you are.” Jace glares at him.
“Are you so eager to get your ass handed to you? Why not wait until Friday, when we will hand it over to you perfectly? You are going to lose again, because that is who you are, losers, and we are going to win, because we are the fucking Kingmakers, so skedaddle.” He barks at them, voice clipped, and yet, somehow sharpened at the edges.
“How long do you think you can hide this?” Milo changes the topic.
“We might be losing, but we sure as hell are going to win, just not in the way you think. How long do you think you can keep this relationship from the school? What do you think will happen right now if I walk in there and tell everyone that you’re fucking?”
“Be my guest.” Reid shrugs with a scoff.
“You’ve tried before, and you’ve failed. You’re hellbent on telling people things, so tell them. Why don’t you do it now? Clark, Blake and Bodhi are right there. Walk to them and tell them that you believe we are fucking. Let’s see who they are going to believe.”
The nonchalance in his voice, the absolute confidence, makes me worry.
Is he putting on a show for them, or does he genuinely not care?
“This is going to end badly, and when it does, we will be there.” Jace smirks.
“Wanna bet on it?” Reid counters, shoulders squared, and I swallow thickly.
It is as if he doesn’t care.
I remember something he said while we were fucking – “You have no idea what I’ll do for you.”
I’d thought he was messing around with me, something he said in the heat of passion, but now, I don’t know what to think anymore.
He wouldn’t risk everything for me, would he? Our relationship is risky enough; it is a problem enough, an illicit affair, but to announce it to everyone is a whole new level. He wouldn’t do that. He’s putting on a show for everyone, but fuck, my head hurts hard.
They walk away when they see we aren’t receptive to their words, but it stays with me.
I feel myself begin to unravel slowly, and as if he can smell my fear, my father returns, first in a nightmare.
I wake up that night, with Reid asleep beside me.
My head is aching hard, and my heart won’t stop slamming against my ribcage. I cannot go back to sleep, not with so much pressure on my chest, as if someone’s foot is pressing it in.
I glance at Reid, and the panic spreads like wildfire.
Shit. I don’t want to fuck up his life. I don’t mind fucking up my life, but not his. He has worked so hard for his. I don’t want to ruin everything, but what if I can’t help it? What if this is all I am, this is all I meant to be?
I get out of bed, head to the bathroom, and pull out the pills. I pop four in my mouth and return to bed. I don’t want to think about anything, not their words, and definitely not my father’s persistent voice in my head. I want to be free, but for now, I push through.
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Unfortunately for me, the paranoia doesn’t fade.
It sticks to me for the rest of the week.
Reid notices and tries to help, but I don’t know what to tell him. What do I say? That I am scared he is going to risk it all for me? That I don’t think I am worth his affection? I risk sounding like a broken record at this point.
We have had this conversation over and over again; there’s no point talking about it again.
I stick to my pills, occasional weed and the micro doses of cocaine.
I try not to use before school or when I get back, which is because Reid is always with me.
I wake up from a nightmare every night, snort two lines, and fall into a dreamless sleep. I wake up the next morning, cranky from the low, and irritated by everything.
Reid notices. He knows what I am doing. He knows that I am slipping away, and I can see that it kills him because he cannot help. Which only compounds what I feel.
Why can’t I stop? Why did Jace and Milo’s words get under my skin? They’re nobodies. This isn’t about them, not specifically. This is about me, about my sense of self, tied to the drugs I cannot quit, while desperately trying to hold on to the boy I cannot leave.
How fucking amazing.
Friday rolls in, and I snort four lines of coke before the match. Four. Reid finds me as I take one more line.
He frowns at me, runs his hand through his hair in frustration, and nods, “Come on. I’ll help you clean up. We’re going to be late.”
I’ve made him complicit in my addiction.
He has been complicit since Vegas.
I’ve dirtied his hands with my filth.
He’ll forgive me, but I’ll never forgive myself.