Fade Out (The Morganville Vampires #7)(75)

“Okay. Okay.” Vee smiles wanly. “Thanks.” I nod once before I’m out the door.

I make a pit stop at my dorm room to collect my keys. Gavin’s lying on his bed when I enter. Dammit. I didn’t want to have to combat him. I understand the choice I’m making, and nothing and no one will change my mind.

Heading right for my table, I try to dodge his curious glare.

“You going somewhere?” he asks, pushing himself up. “I mean, that biker chick is hot and all…but the game starts in a few hours, Ryde. We should head over—”

“Gav,” I cut him off. No reason to lie or drag this out. “I’m not playing tonight.”

He stays quiet. Which, for Gavin, is a rarity. It means he’s doing some serious thinking. My back tenses as I grip my keys and turn to face him.

“Vee wouldn’t let me tell you how sick she was,” he finally says.

I wave him off. “I get it. This isn’t on you.” It’s completely and solely on me.

“Hey, man. I’m not the rest of the guys. I know why you play.” His gaze softens. “But it’s still a hell of a lot to give up for a girl. Mathis…the pros. Everything is riding on tonight. I just want to make sure you understand that.”

“She’s it for me.” I hold his gaze, and he nods. “You guys don’t need me to take Engleton. You’ll bring home the championship. And I won’t regret not being there, but I’ll regret not being there for Ari.” I rub the back of my neck, sighing. “She needs me more than I need a trophy.”

Gavin stands and claps me on the back, giving me a half hug. I return the gesture, relieved that I don’t have to battle him on this. He’s my best friend, and even though I appreciate his view, no one’s going to convince me I’m not making the right decision.

It’s the first time I know exactly what I want.

And any future where Ari doesn’t exist—either with me or not—is a future I refuse to accept.

“I really don’t want to be the one to tell Coach,” Gavin says, his shoulders sagging.

“You got this, man. Kill Engleton for me.” I offer him my fist.

He pounds it. “Go Bobcats!” he shouts, and I laugh.

Then I’m gone. My chest tight, my heart pleading that I’m not too late to save the girl I love.





29





Arian





Becca stands at the entrance to my room, a hard frown tugging at the corners of her lipstick-coated mouth. “Do you need me to finish?”

Weakly, I shake my head. “I can do it, Becca.” I roll onto my side and wince at the sharp pain beneath my ribs. I have to finish packing my clothes in my case, but even the thought of getting out of bed makes me exhausted.

Becca’s been hovering around for the past couple of days since I’ve been here, checking in, as if I’m going to make a break for it. I almost laugh. Like I’m in any condition to run. Or laugh, I note, holding my stomach. Really, I should stop being so hard on her. She was the one who instructed Markus to take me to the hospital. She was the one who tried to convince my father to keep me there. But he thinks the doctors in New York will give him another diagnoses; something not as shameful, maybe.

Becca turns to go, but pauses, her head lowered and gaze on the hardwood floor. Her shoulders rise like she’s preparing to say something, and my body locks up—waiting for the impact of her words.

“I know I haven’t been the best mother,” she starts. “I wanted to be so desperately. I never told you this, but I found out a long time ago I would never be able to have children.”

Oh, God. How did I never realize that? Somehow, I always thought I might’ve ruined her ideal image of being a mother. That I was such a burden, such a disappointment, that she never wanted any of her own. Wow, but I’m narcissistic.

Becca walks farther into the room and sits at the edge of the bed. “You were such an easy child, Ari. You were so mature and just about had life figured out when you were only a kid. I felt useless. I thought…I wanted to be a part of raising you, to have some claim to that. And I pushed too hard. I got carried away. I’m sorry.” She covers her mouth, her hand trembling. “You’re sick because of my ceaseless interference. I put so much pressure on you, and I’m sorry.”

I swallow hard at her admission, my throat tight with emotion. “Becca, I’m sick because I have a disorder. Something in my brain is just…off. It’s not your fault.” I reach up to take her hand, and she allows me. “Okay, maybe you and Dad pushed a bit too hard, but you can’t take all the blame. I never spoke up. It takes more than one person to mess things up this badly. You are a good mother.”

A tight smile lights her face. “And New York? Are you going to speak up about that?”

“I think it’s too late. Dad won’t listen. He thinks it’s school, this place, the people I’m around. He doesn’t get that it’s me.”

“You could try telling him, Ari. I know your father is a stubborn man. God, do I know it. But he does love you. He wants you to see the best doctors, and just refuses to hear that you’re unwell. As difficult as it is for me to admit to my part, your father is unwilling to admit he’s done anything but the best for you.”