Letting Go *Completed*

Chapter 19

Ryder drags the blade along my jaw lightly, but deep enough to draw blood. After, he takes the knife away from my cheek, and places a note in my hand. "Tell Tristan to call this number." He orders, before getting up, and with a mock salute, walks out of the door. I look after him in shock, and shakily get up towards the hospital phone hanging near my bed.

I dial Tristan's number, and I hear his worried voice answer, "Anna?" He asks in confusion, and I sob into the receiver. "Tristan, I'm scared, can you come here?" I ask him, and I can hear him getting up. "Yeah, I'll be right there."

A few minutes later, Tristan runs through the door and hugs me. "Are you okay?" He asks, and I sob into his chest. "Ryder came-" Hiccup. "And threatened me with-" Hic. "Knife." "Call this number." I tell him, shoving the note into his hand. I sniffle into the sheets, and Tristan's brow furrows as he looks at the note. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone.

He dials the number and with a concerned look, talks into it. "Hello? Who is this?" The answer he gets obviously isn't what he wants, ad he jumps up and starts to pace the room. "What, no... Leave her out of this... What the fucking shit!" He screams, and with a nod in my direction, leaves the room. "Fuck."I groan, burying my face in my pillow.

I hear the door creak open, and I quickly look up, but my face falls when I see Charlie walk in instead of Tristan. "Hey." He says awkwardly, his hands in his pockets. I smile up at him as he walks over to my bed. "So, wanna get out of here?" He asks me mischievously, and I look at him in shock, a small smile appearing on my lips.

"Where?" I ask him, but he just grins. I get up, but then freeze. "What about real cloths?" I ask him, and he gives me a bag. I look in it and find a leather jacket, tights, underwear, a T-shirt, and shoes.

"Wow, you thought of everything." I say with a grin, and he smiles again. I get up and change in the bathroom. Somehow, the cloths miraculously fit me perfectly, except for the leather jacket, which I recognize as Charlie's.

I step out of the bathroom, and Charlie whistles. I blush, and he leads me out of the hospital room. I text my mom that I would be leaving, but then turn my phone on silent, because I knew she would protest. He leads me into the parking lot, and the cold air hits my face, making me shiver.

I am grateful for the jacket, because if I wasn't wearing, I would be freezing my ass off. Charlie leads me to his motorcycle, and it is my turn to whistle. It looks bad ass, and the silver streaks on the black paint makes me gawk in envy. He hands me a helmet, and climbs onto the bike. I lift my leg over the seat, and circle my arms around his waist.

I press myself against his back as he starts the engine and drives off. We drive through the highway, but a few minutes later, he turns onto a bumpy road. When he stops, I jump off the bike, and look around in surprise.

We are in the middle of a field, on top of a slight hill. Charlie parks the bike at the edge of the dirt road, and grabs something else from the motorcycle. It is a fluffy red blanket, which he wraps around my shoulders.

I smile gratefully at him, and he smiles back. "It's beautiful isn't it." Charlie says, and I nod. We gaze up at the stars dotting the sky, and I wrap the blanket tighter around myself. Seeing Charlie slightly shivering beside me, I lay the blanket on the grass.

I fall back onto it, and pat the space next to me, signalling him to lie next to me. He complies, and wraps his arms around me. I snuggle into his chest, and he sighs happily. "Beautiful." He says again, but this time he is staring at me. My face turns red, and I look at him shyly.

"So, how was the coma?" He asks, and I push myself off of him. "Seriously?" I ask incredulously, and he looks away in embarrassment. "Sorry." He apologizes, "Just trying to make conversation." He tells me, and I snort. I lay back against him and close my eyes.

His warmth battled the cold, and I found myself moving closer to him, which I could only do to a certain extent because I was so close to him already. "I missed you, Anna." He told me, resting his chin on my head, hugging me tighter.

"Why weren't you there? That one day, you weren't there." I mutter, battling sleep with curiosity. "I broke my arm." He tells me, and I gasp. "Oh my god, I am so sorry." I tell him, I had blamed him for so long. I was so selfish. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you." He says, giving me a tortured expression. He blamed himself too.

"No, you helped me so much already. I don't think I could have survived without you." I tell him, and I meant it, the concept of suicide was not foreign to me. He kisses me lightly on the top of my head. "I will always be there for you." He reassures me, and I know he is serious.

"I'm actually really surprised that you agreed to come with me, I thought you would be clinging to Tristan." He says, and I give him a dry chuckle. "Well, he sort of ditched me, and I am still mad at him for a bunch of stuff." I tell him, remembering how he lied to me when we first met and how he called me a slut.

Charlie frowns when he hears this, and holds me closer to his chest. He whispers something into my hair that sounds dangerously like 'I love you', but I can't tell. I yawn, and pull the blanket over me. Darkness surrounds me like it did in the coma, but sleep is different, it is peaceful and orderly.

Hey peoples,

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-Ce_H65