Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
But a slither of doubt crept into me as I thought of him as he left. I now recognized that expression on his face when he ran. He was pushing me away. Like he’d done now numerous times.
I glanced down at my hand. I stared unseeing at my palm, and a realization hit me. He’d played with my hand on his shoulder. He’d been lost, wrapped up in his own creation with me touching him…until my hand slipped away and it had all broken into pieces.
I closed my hand into a ball and looked away. I had no idea what that meant.
But to have touched him like that…to have seen a flicker of his smile and heard the music he had created thinking about the concert…
“Cromwell,” I whispered to the silent room. Then I waited for my heart to calm down so I could push him from my mind.
It was dark before I left.
And like a forever raging sea, my heart never calmed.
Chapter Eleven
Bonnie
My eyes were heavy as they blinked awake. The dark room was illuminated only by the nightlight in the corner. My hand slapped at the nightstand as the sound of my cell pierced the quiet night.
I squinted at the screen. My stomach sank. “Matt?”
“Bonnie,” he said, out of breath. “You need to come. It’s Easton.”
My legs were over the edge of my mattress before he’d even said my brother’s name. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s worse than ever.” Matt went quiet. I could hear him moving away from the sounds of music and laughter. “You still there, Bonn?”
“Yeah.” I put the cell phone on speaker as I threw on my jeans.
“He’s taken a swing at one of the frat brothers. He hit East back.”
I pulled on my sweater. “Is he okay?”
“He’s bloodied. But he’s not letting anyone near him.” Matt paused. “I’ve never seen him like this, Bonn. He’s all over the place.”
“Where are you?” I grabbed my car keys. I briefly saw my face in the mirror. I looked awful. I threw my hair back in a bun and forced my tired feet to move from the room.
“The Barn.”
“What?” I asked as I made my way breathlessly to the car. “On a Wednesday?” I checked the time. “It’s three in the morning, Matt!”
“It was Cromwell. He wanted to spin. None of us wanted to miss his new set. He came back to the dorms earlier tonight ready to party, drunk as hell. East sent out the word and we all came. It’s been lit!” At the mention of Cromwell’s name, my breathing stuttered. He’d gotten drunk again. No doubt on the whiskey I’d seen him consume over and over again. “Bonn? You there?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen.”
I pulled out of campus and onto the back road that led to the Barn. With every mile, I fought to stay awake. I was getting more and more tired of late. I realized I’d been asleep for all of ninety minutes before Matt called. Cromwell…what has you so hurt? I thought. I hadn’t been able to get tonight out of my head. Now I had Easton to worry about.
Guilt assaulted me when I thought of my brother. Then dread, followed by absolute gutting pain. My hands tightened on the steering wheel. Tears clouded my eyes. I wiped them away before they could fall.
“Not now, Bonn,” I told myself. “Keep it together for Easton.”
I shook my head and opened the window to let in the fresh air. As I drove, I looked at the stars in the dark sky. They always made me feel better.
The lights of the Barn pulled me in. Drunk students piled out of the doors. Fast thudding music played, and I wondered if it was still Cromwell spinning.
Somebody waved their hands. In the glow of my headlights, I saw it was Matt. I pulled my car to a stop around the back, near an old silo. It was déjà vu as I got out of the car. I took a deep breath of air, ignoring the slight new strain it took to inhale. As I walked toward Matt and Sara, I saw a familiar pair of legs next to the silo.
I pushed past Matt to Easton on the grass. His eyes were rolling around in his head. I kneeled down. “Easton?” I slapped his cheek. I looked back at Matt. “What the hell has he taken?”
Matt shook his head. “Don’t know. Never saw him take anything but shots and beer.”
I ran my finger under the leather cuffs he always wore and over his scarred skin, searching for his pulse. It was beating fast, but not crazy.
His eyes opened. “Bonn.” He smiled, his mouth bloodied. I assumed it was from the fight. Easton’s face slipped from happy to torn in a matter of seconds. He pulled me closer. “What’s happening?”
“You’re drunk and, I think, high, Easton.” I took hold of his hand.