The Legend of the Eight: The Charmed (Book 4)

27: The Last Time is the Last Time is the Last Time

TWENTY-SEVEN: THE LAST TIME IS THE LAST TIME IS THE LAST TIME
NOVEMBER 5
WIL DIAMOND

A HORRIBLE RETCHING SOUND CAME from the master bathroom where Chloe had her head in the toilet and was barfing up the breakfast burrito she ate less than an hour ago. Shortly after the girls finished breakfast, Chloe left for the store and when sh returned, she dumped the bags on the floor and rushed to the bathroom. She made it just in time before she began vomiting.

Meanwhile, Wil was on the couch, drunk off Stoli and self-pity, and as she heard Chloe, she grew more and more nauseous by the second.

"Chloe, seriously. I get you're an overachiever but that doesn't need to apply to your morning sickness too," Wil called over the back of the couch, cracking a joke because that was about the only thing she knew how to do in a situation like that one.

From the bathroom, Chloe lifted her head just enough to cough out two words.

"Shut. Up."

And then the yakking resumed.

Wil turned back to the television and she saw that bottle of vodka she'd been nursing. She was between drinks four and five when her sister showed up and it was in that drunken state when she agreed to meet the Eight at the Veil on Saturday night. She knew it was a bad idea and something would inevitably happen and screw things up. But that was the thing about inevitable screw ups. She was drawn to them.

She reached for the bottle and took a large swig for no reason other than it was there and she was there and she'd already done enough being for one day. She was ready for numbness. Numbness was better than that debilitating aching she felt whenever she thought about her family and how fucked up everything was now.

In the bathroom, the toilet flushed and the faucet turned on. Chloe washed herself up and then padded out moments later. She dropped onto the couch and moaned loudly.

"Pregnancy is awful," she groaned. "I'm tired and I'm bloated and I'm puking. And I'm only ten weeks into this."

Wil shrugged. "I bet if you tell your baby daddy that he's going to be a baby daddy, these sucky parts won't suck so much."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You're lucky you're pretty because you're not funny."

Wil snickered and then beamed brightly. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm hilarious."

"You're drunk," said Chloe, gesturing to the vodka which made her the second person to comment on Wil's drinking habits that day.

"What can I say?" Wil joked, going in for another shot. "You're eating for two and I'm drinking for seven."

Chloe laughed. "Oh. Only seven?"

Over by the front door, there was a jingling of keys and when the locked clicked open, Damon Donovan entered. He tossed his duffle on the floor by the edge of the kitchen and his keys onto the counter.

"Hey you two," he said, sorting through his mail and disposing of most of it. "Glad to see you've moved since the last time I was here. Did you at least catch up on some schoolwork?"

Wil turned around to face him and his eyes snapped to hers. He smiled and she blinked away quickly.

"What are you doing here?" Chloe asked her brother, ignoring his question. "I thought you were with King Walter."

"I was," answered Damon, tossing the rest of the mail in the garbage. "But he needs me for something this weekend so I had to come back here. Shower. Get fresh clothes. Pick up a few things for him, you know?"