Never Say Never (32 page)

“How’s your new movie?” she asks, leaning in again.

I sit back against the seat. “It’s great. We’re wrapping up filming soon.”

She laughs and touches my arm, curling her fingers under my sleeve. “Of course it’s great. And it must be keeping you busy. You’ve been so quiet.”

I nod. Between the movie and Haley, I’m busy. Really busy. I spend all my free time on the farm, with the woman I’ve given my heart to. “Yeah.” I cast Sam a look. He shakes his head then puts his fingers under his chin and pulls an imaginary trigger. I give him a tiny nod. That is exactly how I’m feeling.

“So that girl with the horses on your Instragram,” she starts. I internally laugh. I should have known this was about Haley. “She’s just some handler from the set, right? You were so sweet to post those pictures. Probably made her day.”

Should I start counting down the minutes until crazy Kennedy makes an appearance and begs for us to get back together? “She’s my girlfriend, which I’m sure you know.” I signal a cocktail waitress to bring me another drink. There were several pictures of Haley and me together circulating around the Internet. It was even a trending topic on Twitter when a picture of me kissing Haley in a coffee shop surfaced.

There is no way Kennedy doesn’t know.

She laughs. “You don’t date regular people.”

“I’m a regular person,” I say, my fingers tightening around the empty shot glass. I look up, feeling relief when I see the waitress bring my drink over.

“No you’re not,” Kennedy says. “We’re not regular. Aiden, what the hell? I know you had a few ‘issues’ when we were together, but come on. You’re joking with me, right? That girl is not your girlfriend.” She nudges my arm and laughs, looking out at the crowd again. She spots a man with a camera and moves in close, throwing her arms around me.

I want to shove her and tell her to get the hell away from me but stop, the image of my father pushing my mum to the ground flashing through my mind. The darkness rises, and rage floods my veins. I gulp my drink as terror plagues me. I will not be like my father. I twist away as the camera flashes.

“I’m not joking,” I say calmly, working hard not to cause a scene and freak the fuck out.

“Well, good luck with that. Where is your regular girl now?” She looks around the table like Haley will just appear. Anger boils inside me and I start to feel out of control. I take another drink, needing to calm down.

“At home,” I say, not explaining that “home” is her home, not mine.

“Interesting,” Kennedy says before she lets out a breath. I know she’s disappointed. Was she hoping to hook up? “Listen, Aiden, you should really think about this, okay? I only say that because I care.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I blink and finish my drink.

“Once the novelty wears off, you think she’ll still want you—want this? Oh, right, you think you’re such a stand-up guy.” She rolls her eyes and waves her hand at me. “Yeah, getting drunk, passing out and pissing your pants makes you a winner. Has this
regular
girl seen that part of you yet? She doesn’t get your life. She doesn’t understand how things work. And people who don’t understand—who aren’t impressed with what you are—don’t stay, Aiden. She’s not going to want a long-distance relationship with you, while she’s home cooking and cleaning and you’re on some exotic set with a sexy co-star. She can’t handle it. Trust me. Leave her before she leaves you, because that will not be good for your image. Aiden Shepherd, dumped by a nobody horse-trainer from Nowheresville, Montana.”

I sulk back, trying not to let Kennedy’s words bother me, but they do. Not the part about Haley leaving me, because I don’t think she will. I believe her when she says she loves me, even though she tried hard not to fall. What bothers me is the part about me drinking and passing out. I promised her I wouldn’t do that again, and I know I will break that promise.

I know I will break her heart when I said I never would. She is too good for me. I’m not a good person, and the darkness inside of me sometimes wins.

Like tonight.

I’m feeling worse and worse about myself, so I’ll keep going until I’m completely obliterated and can’t remember my own name. It doesn’t make things better. I know. Yet I still do it. Fuck. I can’t stop. I can’t resist taking pills and getting shit-faced. I promised I’d stop and I’m not going to. I hate myself for it.

I hate myself.

Soon Haley will too.

It’s only a matter of time, really. Everyone who knows the real Aiden Shepherd hates him eventually. Maybe it was a mistake letting Haley see me, the real me. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten in this deep and hurt so fucking much. And maybe she wouldn’t hurt either.

I’ve had enough, and I get up to leave, not saying a word to my friends. I pull my phone from my pocket to call Claire but stop. It’s two a.m. and she’s asleep. It’s a dick move to wake up her when I’m perfectly capable of getting my own cab and going home.

I text Haley when I sit in the back seat of the taxi. I have my hood up and hair in my face, trying to conceal my identity as best as I can. The cabbies around here are used to it and don’t get all star-struck, thank the Lord.

I miss you
, I type.
I hope I’m not waking you up. Just wanted to let you know I love you.
It takes me several minutes to get the letters in the right order. I’m too drunk to type straight. I send the message and hope for a response, but I don’t get one. It’s good, really. She needs to sleep.

I’m tired, and my body aches as I go up the curved staircase to my room. I shower and lie in bed naked, cool air from the ceiling fan rushing over my damp skin, causing me to shiver. I’m cold now, and tired.

I stare into the dark, unmoving. Ten minutes pass. Then twenty, thirty, and I’m still lying there, unmoving.

My phone vibrates, pulling me out of the darkness. I sit up and grab my phone off the nightstand. It’s a text from Haley.

Haley:
Miss you too. Get some sleep. Love you.

I smile and get under the covers, thinking of her. Yet I can’t sleep. I can’t shut off my mind, and now invasive thoughts are running rampant, showing me images of Haley’s lifeless eyes, skin on her face blackened and burned. And somehow it’s all my fault.

She worries there is something wrong with her, that her mind is broken. It’s not, not at all. She’s hurt, grieving, dealing with an enormous amount of guilt she shouldn’t put on herself.

What’s my excuse? Why is my mind so fucked up? I close my eyes and see death. If not my own, then that of others—others who I love. I think about dying, even when I want to live. I can’t escape the darkness no matter how hard I try. Not without her.

I can’t take the visions of Haley’s dead face flashing before me. I get up and open the top drawer of my dresser, taking a bottle of Ambien from the back. I pop a couple in my mouth and swallow them dry. My throat hurts from forcing the pills down. I focus on the pain and lie back down. Twenty minutes later I’m still awake, still getting flashes of death, still feeling my heart rip out of my chest at the thought of loosing Haley. I force myself up and pull out another pill bottle, my mind too fuzzy to read what I’m taking, but I think they’re pain pills. I take three or maybe four—fuck, I don’t know. I wash them down with a mouthful of vodka and fall back onto my mattress, waiting for the effects of the drugs to kick in and knock me the fuck out.

“Aiden!” Someone shakes me. “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”

“Mmmhh,” I groan, and I try to open my eyes. I can’t. I can’t move my arms or get a word out. I’m still drugged.

“Aiden, you’re freaking me out!” It’s Claire. She shakes me again then pats my cheek quickly with her fingers. “Open your eyes!”

I try, really, but I’m too tired. I slip back into sleep. I take a shallow breath and try to open my eyes again. I can’t. It should alarm me, right? I should be concerned that I’m hardly breathing, unable to sit up, talk, or open my fucking eyes.

But I’m too drugged to worry, too far under to care.

Claire keeps talking to me, shaking me, pulling the covers back, doing anything she can to wake me up. She jostles my body around, and it takes me a minute to realize she’s putting trousers on me. Right. I’m still naked. Cold water splashes my face, doing nothing to rouse me.

I think she’s crying. I hear a door slam and then her talking to someone, words all jumbled. I think of Haley’s soft lips pressing to mine. I don’t understand why she’s not here with me. I want to call to her, tell her to come here and hold me until the dizziness passes and I’m good enough to get up.

I have no sense of time. Claire was just in here, shaking me, and now she’s doing it again. I groan when something tightens around my arm. Voices surround me, male voices. What the fuck? I use everything inside of me to open my eyes.

“Aiden?” someone asks, their face so close I can feel their breath on my skin. “Aiden, can you hear me. Open your eyes if you can hear me.”

“He’s unresponsive,” someone else says. “Get the Narcan.”

“No, I’m not,” I say. Or at least I think that’s what I say. Really, my voice dies in my throat and only a gurgle leaves my lips.

Someone grabs my other arm and a needle pierces my skin. Cold liquid flows through my veins. Within seconds I’m able to open my eyes. There are three people crowded around the bed. One holds an IV bag while the other two assess me. Claire’s at the foot of the bed, her hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.

“What the fuck?” I spit as I try to sit up. I’ve come to, but I’m weak. I push the IV guy back.

“Sir, you need to calm down.”

“Don’t call me sir,” I say, pushing him away again. I hate being called sir. I think. I don’t know, and I don’t care. All I know is he’s pissing me the fuck off just by being here next to me.

“Aiden,” Claire calls. “Calm down.”

“Blood pressure is still low,” another EMT says. “Let’s take him in.”

“No!” I yell, and I start pulling at the IV in my arm. All three EMTs swarm me, holding me down. “Get the fuck off me!” Why are they here? I’m fine. I need to go…somewhere. I can’t recall where, but I know I have shit to do. “Get off me!” I struggle against their arms.

“It’s okay,” I hear Claire say over my struggle. “Aiden, calm down. We just want to take care of you!”

“I’m fucking fine!” Don’t they see that? What the fuck? Everything is annoying me, getting under my skin. My stomach twists, and I stop fighting, only to turn my head and throw up. Hardly anything comes up, but my body retches two more times. And now I’m shaking, gasping for air.

“Did you check his sugar?” one EMT says. I’m too busy dry-heaving to hear the response, but I feel a sharp prick in my finger.

“Sixty-one.”

“Aiden,” another EMT says slowly. “When was the last time you ate?”

What the fuck does that matter? And I have no clue. I still don’t know what they are doing here, why I’m being harassed for no reason. I’m fine. They need to get the fuck out of here.

“I’ll call it in,” a female EMT says. “We need to get him out of here.”

“No,” I protest when I see them bring the gurney over. “I’m not going to the fucking hospital.”

“I really think you should go,” an EMT says, and his persisting patience annoys me even more. “Just to get checked out. It’ll be a quick trip.”

I’m not a fucking child. I’m not falling for that shit. “No, I’m not going,” I say between retching. I’m shaking and cold, and my mouth is so dry and my throat is burning. Claire pushes through the EMTs and bends over. Tears fall from her eyes. I’ve never seen her look at me with that much fear before.

“Please, Aiden. Let them take you. You’re not well.”

“I’m fine,” I grumble, leaning back and reaching for the line in my arm. I want to tear it out.

“Aiden,” she says again as she pushes my hair back. It’s stuck in my mouth and covered with frothy vomit. I jerk away.

“Give him a minute,” one of the EMTs says. “It’s normal for patients to be angry and agitated.”

“He’s not okay.” She shakes her head and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’ve seen him bad before, but never like this. What did you take, Aiden?”

I let my head fall back and take a deep breath. I feel like shit. Complete and total shit. Everything aches, my head pounds, and I can’t stop shaking. I want another pain pill to make me pass out and not wake until my fucking body feels better.

My phone rings, and despite the hazy shitstorm going on in my mind, I know only one person is calling me this early.

Haley.

I reach out for the phone. I have no idea where it is. I keep my phone in my pocket, and I’m not wearing the jeans I had on last night. When did I take them off?

“Get that,” I say to Claire.

She takes a few steps and picks up my clothes off the floor. “I’ll take a message,” she says.

“No, give it to me!”

“You really want Haley to talk to you when you’re like this?”

I don’t care how I am. I need to hear her voice. I need to know she’s okay, that those horrible things I thought of really didn’t happen. I need to know she still loves me, even though my life is a fucking mess and I’m lying in my bed, covered in my own vomit.