Deception. Betrayal. Mistrust.
It seems the closer Rayne gets to the truth, the more she finds herself wanting to run away from it. It's complex and terrifying-more than she ever fathomed.
New family members, good and bad, pop out at her like a br...
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THREE WEEKS LATER: 𝗠averick sat down in the black visitor's chair off to the side of Eden's hospital bed. He slouched within it and gazed at the ceiling, counting the number of tiles it took up as he waited for her to come out of the bathroom and rejoin their conversation.
Ever since her overdose, she had been staying here. In turn, she suffered her weeks of withdrawals under the supervision of nurses and doctors – all wanting the best for her. After the desire to take more pills simmered, she was moved from the psychiatric holding rooms to a normal one.
He was admittedly very proud of how far she came, all things considered. When he found her scared out of her mind at thirteen, she had taken months to recover. As someone who was not unfamiliar with relapses during a job like his, he was amazed at how she bounced back. Everyone knows that the first round of addiction is the most thrilling, whereas the second round is impossible to back off from; there's that overwhelming idea that maybe one can't disconnect from the drugs.
Thankfully, his cousin wasn't like that.
At least, not so much that she was itching for a fix.
After another five minutes of sitting in this aimless position, he fixed his posture and sat properly, gazing at the thick wooden door of the personal bathroom. He wondered what the hell she could be doing in there, but she was a woman – maybe she had personal things to adhere to.
Letting his eyes lazily look over the room, he noticed a flower pot on the opposite side desk that had not been there earlier this morning. Pushing out of his seat, he rounded the bed and approached them. He thumbed a few of the petals lightly, understanding that they magically were Eden's favorite – Poppy's. There was only one person other than him that knew this information.
The bathroom door opened behind him as he found the card:
Feel better, D. I love you always – B.
"What are you doing?"
Maverick scoffed and flicked the card onto the table. If there was one thing Blaine was, it was persistent. He had tried numerous times over the last three weeks to come visit her – so much so that he made sure security didn't let him get past the front door. Call him overprotective or whatever, but wasn't about to let the same person who hid her addiction, console her and claim it love.
"Nothing," he turned, "Do you need any help?"
"No," she wrapped her hand around her IV pole and walked to the bed.
He tapped his fingers on the mattress as he repeated his steps and walked around it again, falling back into his original seat. He waited for Eden to snuggle back under her blankets and adjust herself before he started a conversation. Arguably, as she flicked her blonde curls over her shoulder, he acknowledged how much healthier she looked – and sounded.
