Thrive (Addicted, #4)(67)

Let me go.

“No…” she says, eyes wide in horror at her scattered papers.

My throat almost closes at how crazy she’s become. I stare dazedly as she breathes sharply, hyperventalting. Connor approaches quickly and bends down to her, whispering in her ear. Then he lifts her by the waist.

She screams manically, “No!” Rose kicks out to try to reach the papers.

I’m going to throw up. Sickness rises from my stomach.

“Stop,” Connor says in the pit of her ear.

She screams shrilly, a desperation that I’ve never heard from her. While Connor holds her back, Rose’s eyes meet mine.

And my mouth moves before I can stop it. “It took you twenty-three goddamn years to finally lose your virginity,” I say, finding a chink in her armor. “And you lost it to a guy that’s just fucking you for your last name.”

“LOREN!” Connor shouts.

I almost stagger back by the force of my name from his lips, his face blanketed with rage. Cold washes over my body, guilt squeezing my lungs. Why can’t you just hit me? I deserve that. I open my mouth to ask, but he says, “Don’t.” The room silences. My full name off his tongue still rings in my ears. “Give me a minute.”

While he takes care of Rose, I concentrate on the rafters up above, my legs weak from that outburst. This could have gone another way…any other way would’ve been better.

Ryke sets his hand on my shoulder. I can’t look at him.

“Hey, it’s all right.”

It’s not.

“Look at me.”

I can’t. I choke on a breath, tears welling. What the fuck is wrong with me?

He cups my face between his hands, forcing my gaze on his. “We’re on your side, Lo. We’re not against you.”

I barely glance over at Rose, who sits on the vanity bench, Connor wiping her tears with his thumb. She almost never cries.

“Lo,” Ryke says, turning my head again so I focus on him. “You’re okay.”

“Yeah?” I breathe. “You all look at me like I’m a dog that needs to be put out of his misery. I’m just waiting for one of you to finally do it.”

His expression just breaks. “That’s not going to happen.” He doesn’t deny that it’s the case.

“Right,” I whisper. And then I make the mistake of finally looking to Lily, who’s on the edge of the bed. She is frozen in confusion, which is why she never intervened. She wears a haunted expression, like I betrayed her.

I guess I did. I swallow hard.

“Are you going to puke?” Ryke asks.

“I don’t know…” I scan the room, searching for a way out again. But I can’t really escape myself. I have to break away from my brother. The tension between Lily and me is what’s tearing me apart.

In order to resolve something, I have to talk to her.

So I head over to the bed while Ryke crosses his arms. The longer I stare at her features, the more this hurts. “What?” I say.

“Did you drink?” she questions.

I stagger back. She actually thinks I drank?

“I just…I don’t understand why you wouldn’t get your pills to prove it,” she says in a small voice.

“So you’re going to take their side over mine?” I choke. Stop being defensive. It’s one of the very few positive voices in my head.

“I’m not taking sides.” She stares at her hands while she thinks hard. “I just want the truth, Lo.”

“I didn’t drink.” I shake my head over and over, my eyes clouding. “But I can’t prove it. I stopped taking Antabuse months ago.” The truth doesn’t free me—doesn’t lift a weight off my chest. I am strapped with baggage so heavy that there’s no hope to reach the surface.

“You did what?!” Ryke shouts.

“They were driving me nuts!” I yell. I hate this, but it’s a conversation that I can’t avoid anymore. “I’m paranoid about everything I eat—if it’s accidentally cooked in alcohol. I picture myself puking from a shitty fucking meal. I can’t do that for the rest of my goddamn life.” I turn back to Lily. “You have to believe me.” I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t believe me. I can’t handle this—

“I do,” she says without any doubt.

I exhale deeply and walk to the bed. I reach in for a hug.

Then she pushes me in the chest and points a finger at me. “But it’s not okay. It’s not.” I should have told her. Her chin trembles, and she pulls her shoulders back with more confidence. I love her for it. “You can’t stop taking them just because it drives you nuts. And it’s not okay that you kept this from me…from us…”

Her tears match mine. “I know,” I tell her in a whisper. “I’m sorry.” I sit next to her, and she scoots closer to me. Then our arms sort of meet each other at the same time. I don’t want to let her go.

“We’re in a fight, just so you know,” she whispers. “I’ll sleep in Daisy’s bedroom.”

Pain contorts my face. “You haven’t had sex in three days.” It’s the truth. She’s been cramming for an exam in May, and she falls asleep before we ever get that far. It’s been good, but she won’t be able to keep the routine up for long. It’s just not how her brain works. “I was going to…” I trail off as she shakes her head.