Page 68 of Mortala
Pale arms burst through the glass window and reach for me.Fists open and close in quick succession before they slap around for something to grab ahold of.Smaller, more delicate, hands grip the cream-colored blackout curtains hanging at the window’s side, and yank them down.Blood-tinged blonde hair covers the face of whatever’s crawling through the unbroken glass.
I refuse to look away, refuse to blink.If I do, it may move closer in the split second my eyelids close and reopen.
Matted clumps of hair tumble over shoulders where a too-large shirt dangles and hides curves I know too well.Its limbs jerk at odd angles as it stands, arms lifting for me again.One rickety step after another the distance shrinks, leaving watery foot prints and a trail of droplets shortly behind.
My heart lurches when the water fades into a deep red as a nightmare manifesting in the suffocating space.I can’t…can’t see her like this—broken, dying.Of all the shitty dreams I’ve ever had, this one is the worst and I can’t fucking stop it from happening.
My eyes slam shut and squeeze hard enough to send pain pulsing at my temples—panic’s setting in.Next, tightness blooms in my chest and grows heavier with every rushed breath.I’m trying to control it, to will it away, but the metallic stench is getting harder to avoid.
I’m terrified of what’s on the other side of my eyelids, standing inches away, waiting, daring me to look.I know it’s her.The sweet, damaged, beautiful girl I failed at helping.
Fuck, I’ve got to call Kace.That email wasn’t enough.He doesn’t understand how important this is.Sadie needs support, and I know he can keep her on track because lord knows I’m not doing her justice anymore.He’ll ask a thousand questions I can’t answer without destroying her.I won't let that happen, won't let her get worse by saying the wrong things to him.What if his anger hurts her too?What if he blames her instead of me?
Do I think that will happen?
Not at all.
That’s not to say she won’t fault me.Her adoptive family treated her as if she were disposable and looking for the perfect moment to cast her aside.
Here we are…
Sadie hasn’t come out and told me, but I have a nagging suspicion that her greatest fear is being unwanted.Too many times I’ve caught her looking at Kace and Nadia with this glint of…envy, perhaps, in her eye.
‘YOU LEFT ME INCOMPLETE!’
The sudden scream from my phone makes me jump and my eyes snap open.Fizzling out in my peripherals, the nightmare finally releases me.I drop the chair back to all four legs with a thump before grabbing the phone to see Mav's name lighting up the screen.
Fuck, it's already been twenty minutes?
I answer the call and prop my phone against my abandoned glass of whiskey as several thumbnail images fill the screen.Many of the same ugly mugs I come to care for, and a new one that I don't care to know.
"You look like shit," Mav starts in on me, but I say nothing.We wait for another person to join us, which gives me time to sit back, cross my arms, and get comfortable.A few more snide comments come through the speaker—knuckleheads always jacking with one another.When the last person shows up—chronically late Cole—Mav starts by over-talking everyone until they fall silent.Two minutes into him discussing the development with another file, I find the white rabbit again.
This is going to be a long briefing.
Four hours later, my ass is about to fall off.I should have moved to the couch when we began, but I know the second I hit the damn thing I’d fall asleep.I groan, my knees and muscles protesting as I stand up from the chair with a curse.I’m getting too old for this shit.
Lukewarm now, the glass of whiskey taunts me along with the dryness of my mouth, though I responded minimally throughout the call.Snatching the glass, I knock back the contents with one gulp and slam it down.It’s harsh and low knock vibrates up my arm as I let go.
I need a shower.To think.Then to get the hell out of my head.In that order, no deviation.
The size of this rental is abysmal; it only takes me three steps to walk out of the dining room and into the bedroom.Inside, I drop onto the foot of the full-size bed, feeling like a giant on the damn thing.It’s so much smaller than hers.
Ugh, stop it, Elias.
With more force than necessary, I yank at my shoestrings, ripping them out of my boots with harsh rasps.I'm sure most people prefer to loosen theirs which makes it easier to lace later but I like doing it the old fashion way—ensures the perfect fit.I’ll feed string ends through their designated eyelets and tighten them firmly, maximizing support on the ankles.Also prevents scorpions from crawling up the inside of my pant legs in some dusty shit hole.
Both boots are set to the side, laces tucked into the open space—some military habits never die.I’m almost ready to undress and put my old ass in the shower but I need a second.The rawness of everything feels like I’ve been blasted with sand and it’s torn through my skin.
The urge to check on Sadie pokes at the back of my head.I shouldn’t.I’m trying to stop anyway, cold turkey, give her peace—whatever the hell that looks like.What if she's doing better, not suffering like I am?That's the goal but dammit,I don't want her to do better without me.I need to be the one that makes her happy, who drags her kicking and screaming, and gives her everything she's ever wanted and needed.
How in the hell am I supposed to do that when we're the epitome of oil and water?I take that back, she's diethyl ether.Heh, volatile and reactive.
I should look; I need to.Watching her, even from this bum-ass rental, gets me through the night.She deserves space though.
FUCK.
Yes, no.Yes, no.
