Текст книги "Toxic"

Автор книги: Rachel Van Dyken

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Chapter Forty-Six

You know you’re in love with someone when the idea of them being in love with someone else doesn’t just wreck you, it invades every part of your being. Yet, how could I be upset that Gabe loved her? When his love for her was one of the very reasons I loved him? —Saylor

Saylor

The coffee was bitter.

It didn’t help.

I took a seat on the cold metal chair and tapped my nails against the coffee mug. An hour went by, and finally someone walked into the tiny hospitality room.

“Found you.” Lisa winked then plopped down next to me. “So are we wallowing or are we just… thinking?”

I smiled. “A little bit of both.”

“He loves you.” Lisa’s eyes didn’t meet mine. “For what it’s worth, I’ve known Ashton all my life, and he loves you, loves you something fierce.” She covered my hand with hers, “You may be sharing him for now, but considering the circumstances, I can’t imagine a better person to be sharing him with. And that’s the truth. Kimmy… she would have loved you.”

For some reason that made me want to cry. “What was she like?”

“Talented.” Lisa removed her hand. “Loud.” Laughing, she rose and grabbed her own cup of coffee. “I looked up to her so much. It’s funny, even though she and Ashton had something special, they never left me out, even though I was two years younger and ridiculously naïve.”

“Freshman?” Everything sort of clicked. “You just started school though.”

Lisa’s face darkened. “Yeah, well, I didn’t go to school right away. I mean, it was my idea to help Ashton escape everything, but I didn’t follow him right away. I um, I stayed in LA for a bit.”

“And stopped modeling?” I asked. “What happened?”

“I think,” she said, taking a seat, “that we’ve had enough sad stories for one day.” Her smile returned. “I just wanted to let you know – just in case you were having doubts – he needs you.”

“Thank you.” The room fell silent.

“I overheard them talking about hospice,” Lisa mumbled. “I hope that doesn’t mean what I think it does.”

“It does.” Another voice chimed in. Kiersten walked into the room, looking about as crappy as I felt, and sat at the table. “I just talked with Wes. The infection’s getting worse, not better. I just… I don’t know. I wish there was something we could do.” Her eyes met mine. “When Wes went through his surgery and everything, at least he knew we were present, you know? He was able to talk with us, cry with us.” Her voice wavered. “But Kimmy? Or Princess? She’s hurt and doesn’t know why. All she knows is Gabe’s sad and she can’t figure out why. You know? I just wish we could give her happiness.”

I listened intently, my mind reeling. What could we do? How could we make it easier? Not that it would ever be easy.

“I think—” I croaked out. Then I cleared my throat and tried again. “I think I have an idea.”

Kiersten’s and Lisa’s heads both snapped up.

“But, I need your help, and Kiersten, we’re going to need Wes.”

Kiersten grinned. “We always need Wes. He’s like a superhero.”

I had to agree with her. The man was probably Batman in another life or something.

“Okay.” I leaned forward. “This is what we’re going to do.”

****

After the girls and I talked, we decided to go grab lunch at the cafeteria and then find Gabe.

He was in the game room with that man he’d seen earlier, Mike. Wes was there too. All three of them looked tense.

A camera crew was setting up, and one of the assistants was putting a microphone on Gabe.

“Fifteen minutes.” Gabe spoke slowly. “I can do fifteen minutes before I crack. My strength… it’s going to get zapped fast.”

“Alright.” Mike cleared his throat. “Just talk, Ashton, and I’ll make sure the story gets told the way you want it told.”

“Has he heard from his dad?” Lisa whispered in my ear.

“No.” I sighed. “At least not that I know of. After this morning I’m pretty sure the last person he wants to see is his dad.”

Lisa snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. I’d probably run him over with my car, so it’s probably good he’s hiding out.”

“Ready?” Mike asked.

Gabe’s eyes flickered to mine, his mouth relaxed.

I licked my lips and mouthed, “I see you.”

His shoulders instantly relaxed as he mouthed back, “I see you.”

“So, Ashton Hyde,” Mike started. “It’s been a while. Why don’t you start off by telling us where you went?”

“I think the important part,” Gabe said, nodding and leaning forward, “is not where I went but why I went.” He looked down at the ground and then directly at the camera. “Boy gets famous, boy meets girl. Boy’s world is flipped upside down, boy makes a bad choice, girl gets hurt. Boy’s heart shatters inside his chest, but doesn’t stop beating. It just continues to beat through the brokenness, even though each pump hurts like hell.” Gabe sighed. “I disappeared because suddenly my life didn’t matter anymore. It was all about hers. Getting her the best care, getting her away from the watchful eyes of the media.”

“And her parents?”

Gabe sighed, his face darkened. “The minute she became what she is now, her parents bailed. They couldn’t handle it. It was too hard, and they signed over guardianship to me. I have power of attorney, everything. We belong together. As if we’d actually gotten married.”

Mike nodded. “Yet you never wed?”

“No.” Gabe licked his lips. “We never did, but I took care of her – take care of her – as if I made those vows, even though I tried really hard to be something I wasn’t.”

“Meaning?”

“My escape was creating a new identity. I thought it would be easier. When I came to the Home I was just Ashton. When I went to college, I was Gabe, a completely different version of myself. I thought… I thought separating the two would make it less painful.”

“Did it?” Mike leaned forward. “Did it make it less painful?”

“No.” Gabe exhaled. “If anything, it made it worse, because Gabe fell in love with a girl too.” His eyes met mine. “But he shares a heart with Ashton, and Ashton’s heart will always be in limbo – waiting for his princess to either wake up or go to sleep.”

You could hear a pin drop in that room.

Lisa gripped my hand while Kiersten wrapped her arm around me. Gabe was already starting to sink lower into his chair. Emotionally, he was done.

“Let’s talk about your father.” Mike began, “What’s this business about your parents wanting you home? What’s the truth?”

“My father wants what used to be his cash cow…” Gabe shrugged. “Had he offered me love, acceptance, understanding, I would never have been put in the position I am now. I begged him to leave me in peace. Instead, he threatened the well-being of those I love the most. So that’s why I’m here, giving this interview. He can say whatever he wants, but I want my fans, my family, my friends, to know the truth. I never left them because I hated them, I didn’t lie because I wanted to. I did it because at the time, I didn’t see any other choice. And every single one of my choices was made because of her.”

“True love.” Mike nodded his approval and smiled warmly. “It sounds like true love.”

“Yeah.”

“Ashton, anything else you want to say to your fans?”

“Thank you.” Gabe’s voice dropped. “For understanding.”

“Alright, that’s it.” Mike waved at the camera crew while someone stood up and grabbed the microphone from Gabe.

Everyone started packing up while Wes approached Gabe and pulled him in for a tight hug then handed him a phone.

Gabe dialed a number, then held the phone to his ear, face tight. He looked ready to unleash on someone.

“Yeah, you wanted me parading in front of the media? You got it. I suggest you watch Mike’s show tonight. Should be on around six,” he ground out. “And when you do, just know I did it all for you, you sick son of a bitch.” He sliced the air with his hand and started pacing back and forth. “Shut up and listen, old man, because I’m saying this once. You and me are done. You can’t hurt any of us anymore, and you and your sorry ass are going to fade into the pit of hell where you belong or I will hunt you down… and kill you.”

He listened, but I couldn't tell what his dad was saying because Gabe's expression never changed. And then he cracked a smile. “You finished?” He waited a brief moment then nodded. “Good. Because those are the last words you will ever say to me, you money-hungry, piece-of-shit bastard.” He stabbed the end button on the phone and looked like he was about to throw it when Wes intervened and grabbed it out of his hands.

The silence was broken by Wes chuckling. “If ever there was a time when a person needed a drink – now’s that time.”

“Here, here.” Gabe’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, but when he looked at me, I could tell some of that weight was beginning to fall off.

I just hoped that by the time my surprise happened, he would be receptive and not angry that I’d overstepped my boundaries.

“Whiskey.” Wes pointed us toward the door. “It’s time for whiskey.”

Chapter Forty-Seven

If God meant for us to carry baggage around, he would have made our skin have little pouches like kangaroos. Or maybe he would have just made it so that each and every one of us were born with huge– ass shoulders to carry the load. Clearly, we weren’t made to carry the weight of the world, kinda makes you wonder why we do it anyway, huh? —Wes M.

Gabe

For the first time since Wes punched me, I drank. I didn’t drink a ton, because I wasn’t optimistic that my body would actually forget the trauma of that day, let alone my mind.

When Wes drove the car toward the dorms I asked him to turn around and drive me to the house instead.

Saylor offered to stay with me.

I turned her down.

Not because I didn’t want company, but because I knew I was in bad shape. I was a bit buzzed, emotionally distraught, and she just looked so damn pretty that I knew I’d make a giant ass out of myself and either try to seduce her in order to feel better, or end up weeping on her shoulder. Maybe both.

At this point, it was a toss-up.

I still felt pissed. I still felt angry, but that’s the thing about feelings. They don’t have to force you to make choices you know may sound good at night but ruin you come morning.

So I went to bed – by myself.

I punched my pillow a few times, letting the alcohol soothe my nerves as I closed my eyes. Sleep. Sleep would cure everything. With a sigh, I let myself fall off the ledge into a deep slumber.

I would have followed her anywhere.

It’s funny isn’t it? People claim to know what love is – yet the minute they’re given the opportunity to prove it – they bail.

I wish I could have bailed. I wish I could have walked away four years ago, then maybe I’d have the strength to walk away now. To look her in the eyes and say, “Sorry, but I can’t do this again.”

People rarely mean what they say. To me, sorry was just another word in the English language that people misused, just like love.

I love ice cream, I love pancakes, I love the color blue – bullshit, because when I said love – I meant I bled for you. When the word love actually leaves my lips – I’m speaking it into existence. I’m empowering my soul – I’m joining with yours.

I’d always heard about crossroads, how people are given choices in their lives, choices that either make or break them. I never realized that I’d be given that second chance. I never realized I’d fail to take it.

Her eyes pleaded with mine. My heart shattered in my chest, my lips moved to speak – to say anything to get her to understand the depth of what I was feeling, but I knew the minute I told her how I felt – it would be all over with.

My heart, my soul, it couldn’t survive anything happening to her. If she wasn’t in my world, my heart would stop. I knew it was killing her – because it was destroying me.

But going back to that life.

Even for her.

Was out of the question.

Falling in love, jumping out, even knowing full well that she’d catch me. It wasn’t an option. Because everyone knows, when it comes to love, it’s not the fall that hurts… it’s the landing. And I knew it was only matter of time before she gave up on me too and allowed me to break.

Because in the end… that’s all I was – broken. A shell of a human.

“I don’t understand!” She beat against my chest with her fists, “You promised me! You promised you’d never leave!” Tears streamed down her face, the face I used to love. I closed my eyes then looked behind me as Saylor clenched the keys in her hand, waiting for my decision.

I was at a crossroads all right. One path led to my future – the other to my past and utter self destruction.

I couldn’t look at her. I ignored every thread of feeling – and relished the pain of my heart breaking into a million pieces as I held out my hand in front of me, “You’re right, I promised.”

“Gabe!” Saylor yelled from behind me. “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

“Don’t you see?” I said quietly without turning around. “It’s always been like this. It will always be like this. I warned you.”

“But—”

“Enough.” I yelled, tears threatening to stream down my face. “I said enough. You should go.”

I heard the door slam behind me.

“It’s okay!” she said, cupping my face. “It will finally be okay!”

“Alright, Princess.” I choked on the word. “Alright.” I tightened the pink scarf around her neck and put my arm around her.

“Thanks.” She sighed happily. “You always promised you’d take care of me. You can’t leave. You can’t—”

“I won’t,” I vowed, because it was my fault. Just like everything else.

“Can we go play now, Gabe?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, we can.” I folded the blanket around her legs and pushed her wheelchair out of the room, knowing full well that I was choosing the wrong path – with every step I took.

I jerked awake in a cold wet sweat. It wasn’t real. It was just a dream, but why did it feel so real? I really did believe all those things.

Sick to my stomach, I barely made it to the bathroom before I lost my dinner and those four shots Wes had fed me.

As the water flushed down the toilet, taking the remnants of Wes’s good idea with it, I grabbed a towel and wiped my face, then sank down onto the cold tile.

I missed Saylor.

I also missed Princess.

I didn’t want my choosing Princess to make it so that Saylor left me. How selfish could I be? I wanted both? Did I even deserve both? I knew I didn’t, but that didn’t make me want her any less. It didn’t make the cravings for her kiss, for her touch, go away.

“Damn.” I wiped my face again, stripped off my soaked clothes, and jumped into the shower. I’d only gotten six hours of sleep, but at least I’d slept.

Today was the day I had to decide whether or not to call hospice, and I still wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

After my shower, I walked numbly across the cold slate floors that led into the kitchen.

The sun was just starting to peek over the city.

It was beautiful – I wished Saylor could be there to watch the sunrise with me. I wished so badly that I was whole for her.

Just as I was getting ready to turn on the coffee pot, the doorbell rang. Curious, I walked over and prepared myself for some low-life reporter who’d somehow discovered my secret house.

I opened the door.

It wasn’t a reporter.

Saylor stood smiling at me. And Princess was with her, all cuddled up in her chair with blankets spread over her, an oxygen mask on her face.

A pretty woman in scrubs stood behind Princess, beaming.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, after finally discovering my voice again.

“I came here to bring Princess home.” Saylor smiled.

“Home!” Princess shouted then started coughing. “Ashton, it’s my home. From the picture!” She coughed some more as her chest rattled.

I knelt down on to meet her face to face. “Do you like it?”

She nodded. “Because you know why?”

“Why?” I asked.

“It’s a castle,” she whispered.

“Fit for a princess.” Saylor finished.

I couldn’t talk even if I wanted to. Without saying anything else, I opened the door wider and helped them pull the chair into the living room.

“The doctor’s okay with this?” I asked.

“Well…” Saylor chewed her lower lip. “Let’s just say Wes had to do his fair share of throwing his weight around and even then the only way they’d release her was if your signature was on the paperwork.”

“So?” I crossed my arms. “How’d you do that?”

“Martha signed.” Saylor cracked a smile. “She’s pretty good at doing your signature too by the way. Oh, and she said if you fire her she’ll hunt you down.”

“Ha.” I wiped my face with my hands. “She’s the best head nurse we have. I’d never fire her.”

“Good.” Saylor’s smile was wide and happy.

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

A throat cleared. I glanced to the right. The nurse was folding her arms over her chest, looking between the two of us with interest.

“Oh, and I almost forgot! This is the nurse who’s going to be taking care of Princess, and even if you call hospice she won’t leave.”

The nurse tilted her head and held out her hand. “I’m Tara.”

Saylor went and stood next to the lady then wrapped her arm around her shoulder. “Gabe, meet my mom.”

Stunned, I could only stare and then hold out my hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

She nodded and politely took my hand. “Where would you like me to put Princess?”

“Ahh…” I sighed and looked around the house, momentarily confused as to which direction to take them. “Guest rooms are down here, let’s go.”

It wasn’t until I was halfway down the hall that I realized Princess hadn’t called me Parker – Ashton. She called me Ashton.

How was it possible for a heart to be so full of dread and excitement at the same time?

I paused in the hallway.

“Gabe?” Saylor turned. “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” I croaked. “Sorry.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

Watching someone you love… die? There are no words for how broken that makes a person. It’s like waking up from a bad dream only to find out that it’s you reality, it’s like watching sunlight fade from the sky, like watching death suck the one you love dry, and being powerless to stop it. You may as well try to stop the waves from rolling in, or the sun from rising. In the end, the waves will roll, the sun will set, and death will come. The only thing you have a choice in? How you deal with it…when it does. —Wes M.

Saylor

Two days later, I was sitting next to Gabe while he read to Princess. She was still failing so he’d called hospice in. One of the nurses from the main hospice team came a few times a day to check on things, but since my mom was constantly around they didn’t stay. It wasn’t normal for hospice to approve of something like this, but in the end, it was about the patient. And Gabe was high profile so they didn’t mind. Besides, my mom wasn’t just any nurse. She was amazing, the best at what she did.

Eric called at least thirty times a day – he was staying with his best friend and thought it was the coolest thing in the world that he could spend the night on school nights for the entire week.

And I was stressed.

Not because of the situation.

But because I couldn’t focus on anything, not even my music. It was like, the passion that had once been there, the passion that Gabe had introduced me to, had been sucked dry. I literally had nothing to offer, nothing to give.

That evening, I walked into the piano room – the one littered with pictures of Gabe and Kimmy – and sat at the piano.

My fingertips grazed a few of the notes, but nothing. I felt nothing.

“Sometimes,” Gabe’s voice said from behind me. “It’s not passion that brings forth the music, but desperation.”

“I feel desperate,” I whimpered. “I also feel a bit lost.”

“Hmm.” His hands moved to my shoulders. “Play it out.”

“I can’t even find the beginning, let alone the ending, Gabe.”

“So?” He pushed down on my shoulders. “There’s gotta be a middle in there somewhere. Find that.”

I slammed my hands down onto the piano.

“Good,” he encouraged.

I slammed them again.

“Better.”

I lifted my hands to slam them a third time, then cracked as my hands fell gracefully across the keys, playing a song I didn’t even remember practicing.

My hands flew across the piano as I played.

Body overheated, sweat started to pool at my temples, threatening to drip down my face.

By the time I was finished, my chest was heaving, like I’d just run for hours without stopping.

“Beautiful.” Gabe took a seat on the bench and faced me. “Thank you, for what you did, for what you’re still doing.”

I looked away. “I feel helpless.”

“Don’t we all?” He sighed. “Sometimes, there’s really nothing to do but sit and stare at a wall… and wait for the inevitable.”

“Stupid wall,” I grumbled.

Gabe cracked a smile. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“You know what I mean.”

I did. I wasn’t avoiding him, but I was giving him space. Allowing him time to grieve, allowing him moments with her.

“I need you,” he whispered. “Even when I’m with her, my thoughts are with you, my heart was never fully given back to me, but the pieces I still had, were stolen the minute I kissed you. The minute our lips met. So don’t for a second think I don’t need you. Don’t think I don’t want you. Because I do. I. Need. You.” His mouth met mine, gently at first, and then with more urgency as his hands dug into my hair and tugged. “So beautiful.”

“I think I love you,” I blurted. “I’m so sorry.” I collapsed against his chest. “I’m so sorry I love you. I’m sorry.” I trembled. “I can’t help it.”

“That’s romantic.” He chuckled against my hair.

I smacked him, as tears threatened to pour. “I’m trying to apologize.”

“For loving me?” Gabe asked, just before his mouth met my cheek. His eyes roamed over my body then my face. “Why the hell would you apologize for giving me one of the most treasured gifts in your possession?”

“Because…” My lips trembled. “It makes it harder on you.”

“Isn’t that for me to decide?” He tilted his head. “And just so you know, Saylor, you’re mine. That love you feel for me? It gives me strength. Your face is all I see when I close my eyes, Saylor. So please don’t apologize for your love – don’t say you’re sorry… when I’m not…”

I sighed and hugged him.

Gently, he pushed me away, and his hands fell onto the piano.

“Split in two,” he sang, “Loved by one, and then another. Pulled in a direction and then the other. If I could breathe you in, all of you, every day of my life, it wouldn’t be enough. My heart was captive long ago – then you stole it away, you helped me grow. Now I’m staring at my crossroads with a choice to make, wondering how in the world I even thought there was one way to take.”

His hands flew over the piano, muscles tightened in his forearms as he leaned forward and continued singing.

“My biggest fear, is not the ending of this life, but going through it without you by my side.” He repeated the chorus and closed his eyes, humming the haunting melody in such a way that I felt hypnotized.

“Letting her go will be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do – but I’m doing it so I can say goodbye to her – and good morning to you. Tell me it’s not too late to ask for a second.” He smirked but continued singing. “Third, fourth, tenth date.” His hands slowed. “Loving you will always be easy because when I look into your eyes I know you see the real me, so be my love, be my rain, be my clouds, be my pain.”

“My biggest fear, is not the ending of this life, but going through it without you by my side.” He stopped playing.

The room fell silent.

“That was beautiful.”

Gabe turned. “It’s your song.”

“My song?” I repeated.

“Saylor’s song.” His smile returned. “I know it’s not very creative, but, it’s yours.”

“No.” I put my hand over his. “It’s ours.”

Gabe’s smile lit up my world as he leaned in and kissed me across the mouth.

“One more left,” I whispered against his lips.

“One more?” He pulled back.

“Tear.” I released a deep sigh “You only have one more to make up for.”

“I thought that’s what all this kissing was for.” He teased.

Laughing, I kissed him harder as his arms wrapped around me. He lifted me into the air and pushed me against the wall, assaulting my lips with such force that I let out a pitiful moan. And then another as his tongue twisted around mine, retreated and then pushed forward again. The guy could kiss. Seriously. Could. Kiss.

My knees weakened as he pressed his hands to my stomach steadying me on my feet.

“Gabe? Saylor?” My mom’s voice echoed down the hall.

I sighed in frustration as Gabe pulled back and bestowed one more kiss on my mouth.

“In here,” he called.

Mom walked into the room, took one look at me, and stumbled a bit. Once she regained her posture, she cleared her throat. “The oxygen mask is helping her breathe during the day, the ventilator at night, but… Gabe, I don’t have a good feeling. Her coloring is very pale, and her face…” Mom sighed. “What I’m trying to say is, she’s transitioning. I can see it. I can feel it. She’s starting to go.”

“Go?” Gabe croaked.

“Gabe.” Mom reached out and grabbed his hand firmly in hers. “Kimmy’s dying, but you need to let her go. Do you understand? People… even in Kimmy’s case, they try to hold on. They hold on and it’s so very painful when they do. The best thing you can do for her is allow her to rest in peace. Give her permission not to be strong.”

Gabe swayed on his feet. “I’ve been saying goodbye for years.”

“Maybe this time…” Mom said wisely. “You should mean it.”