A L L W H I L E I'M A S L E E P
Thomas
The rest of the day feels strange. I can't wrap my head around it. I know and have been assured that Sam is fine and will most likely make a good recovery. I've just never seen anything like this before. It's something you'd see in movies, not in real life.
I believe that there's absolutely no way that it's not got anything to with Nate but I don't want to plant that idea any further into Isabelle's head because I know she'll take it upon her own shoulders and take the blame for it.
Since we got back, Isabelle has kept herself in bed all day, even calling in to work saying she's not going in. She's not sulking, but she's feeling sorry for Sam and above all else – guilty. I lightly tap my knuckles against the door before speaking.
"Are you alright?" I listen out for her reply but I don't get one. I know she isn't asleep, her mind is too overworked to be able to sleep right now. "I think I'm going to go for a drive. Do you want to come with me?"
"No." She answers, her voice muffled through the walls.
"Is, I don't think-." I start.
"Just leave me alone Thomas. I don't want to come." She cuts me off and I straighten up with a sharp sigh.
"Okay. I won't be long." I give up and head on down to my car on my own. I buckle my seat belt in and start the ignition.
I drive around for a while, in an attempt to clear my mind. By focusing on the road, I hope it'll distract me from everything else that's going on. It's not long before my stomach starts to rumble and I decide to stop off at a drive-thru and eat in the parking lot.
After texting Isabelle to see if she wants anything, I contemplate calling my Mom. With the line ringing, I put it on speaker and put my phone down.
"Hey honey. How's things?" She cheerfully answers. I let out a long sigh, unsure on how to even start explaining what's happened. "What? What is it?"
"Sam's in hospital. He got jumped by these guys. They keep saying he's alright but he looks... God he doesn't even look like himself."
"Oh my God. Do you know anymore of what happened?" She asks.
"No. I think the officer said there was definitely more than one of them but they're investigating. I have been to see him, he's in an induced coma so the doctors can keep an eye on him." I pause, thinking over what I want to say next. "I'm going to say something now, if you promise not to worry."
"You know I'll always worry Thomas but yes, I'll try my best." I soften at her response.
"Isabelle has an ex-boyfriend who she left because he was abusive and that's putting it lightly. He's got a lot of dangerous friends and Isabelle is convinced it has something to do with him. I'll be honest, I don't think she's too far off the right idea."
"So is that why she was living with you?" I almost laugh. She's too quick at catching onto things.
"Yeah. Sam brought her here because I had the extra space. Obviously things just picked up from there. Now I just don't know what to do. I don't want to act too rashly and worry Isabelle anymore than she already is but this guy and his friends are capable of a lot."
"Are you thinking about security? I have a contact that I can give you if you decide you want it."
"Yeah, I might keep that mind actually. Thank you."
"And if you or Isabelle want to come and stay with me for a while then that's totally okay. I don't care how much of a pain in the ass you are to live with-." I laugh at her. "As long as you're safe. Both of you."
"Thanks Mom." I smile even though she can't see me.
"I love you Thomas."
"Love you too. I should head back home. I'll keep you updated."
"Yeah please do. I'll send Sam's Mom a message too. Bye." We hang up and I pull out the parking lot, feeling slightly better than I did when I arrived here.
**
I get back and hang around for about half an hour until I grow bored of being along alone. Isabelle still hasn't come out from her room, still feeling sorry for herself. I shake my head, starting to feel frustrated.
I get to her door but this time I waltz straight in. She's still in bed, sitting up against the head board. Her eyes are staring forward, red and sore, tissues scattered around the bed.
"Okay. Get up." I order, fed up. She doesn't say anything, she doesn't even look at me. I walk around and flick the sheets off of her body. "Get. Up."
"No." She returns sharply.
"Yes. Is sitting in bed all day helping Sam?"
"No." She answers.
"Is it making you feel any better?"
"No."
"If that was you in hospital, would you want me or Sam to be like this?"
"No." She repeats herself again.
"Then why are you being like this?" Her wide eyes shoot to mine.
"Because I'm upset Thomas. I can't help but feel like this is my fault!" She cries out.
"It's not!" I argue back.
"Tell me this has nothing to do with me." She returns. "Tell me."
"It doesn't." I answer, moving forward reassuringly.
"That's a lie." I perch down on the end of the bed. "I walked into your life with all this fucked up extra baggage, that none of you asked for!"
"And I wouldn't have it any other way! If you had to be in my life just like you are or not at all, I wouldn't change a single thing." I snap.
She puts her head back against the headboard. She lets out a whisper, tears falling as her voice cracks.
"He's like a poison in my life. And because of me, everyone else's too." My face crumples up with sadness as I look at her. I lower my voice for when I next speak.
"Did you beat Sam up?" She sniffs, wiping her wet face before she says anything.
"No." I put my hand on her bent knee.
"Then the only people to blame.... are the assholes that did. You are not at fault at all, okay?" I ask calmly and then stand. "Now please, get up." There's a stillness in the room for a moment until she finally shifts her weight to stand up.
She steps in front of me, looking anywhere else to avoid my stare. She lets out a long, heavy, exhausted breath. I take her in for a hug and she tightly wraps herself around me like it's the answer to all of her problems.
"It's all going to be fine." I whisper, cupping the back of her head. "I promise."
"You can't promise that." She croaks. She's right. I can't.
"Then I'll promise to at least try." I plant a faint kiss on the top of her head and she moves back. I brush my thumb against the damp skin of her cheek and she gives me the smallest slither of a smile.
**
Isabelle
"I don't want to go in." I object as I stay put in the passenger seat of his car, outside of the grocery store.
It's been a day and I still feel like absolute shit, my face feels puffy from all the crying I did yesterday and this morning. My eyes are sore and my knotted hair is tied up messily on the top of my head.
"I look disgusting." I pull the sleeves of the oversized hoodie I'm wearing over my hands before dropping my head into them, resting my shoes up in front of me.
"Is. Don't say that. It's not true." Thomas immediately returns. "Now get your feet off the dash." He moves my legs down himself, making sure he's careful.
"You don't even like shopping." I resort, desperately trying to get out of it.
"Stop making excuses." He gets out and I watch him walk around until he gets to my side of the car. He opens the door for me and offers his hand out. I sigh, roll my eyes and reluctantly take it.
We walk hand in hand up to the entrance and then break apart when I find a shopping cart for me to push around.
Stopping half way down the second aisle, I pause to read my list. He takes it as an opportunity to press himself up against me from behind and lightly kiss the back of my neck.
"See? It's not so bad." He whispers. I turn around, trapped between both of his arms that are outstretched either side of me so he's holding onto the cart as well. I let out an over-dramatic, sarcastic gasp.
"Hang on. Does this mean we're on our second date?" His face contorts and he gets straight into defensive mode.
"Absolutely not. This doesn't count in anyway shape or form." He scoffs.
"Why not? It's just us two, spending quality time together, not in the apartment." I tease.
"Nope. I'll take you somewhere nice for a second date. Nicer than a grocery store."
"Hmm, so romantic." He puckers up for a kiss. "Is that a promise?"
"Sure is." I briefly meet his lips and then pull away to link my pinky finger around him. "See you're feeling better already." He gestures at me as he steps away.
"I'm not stupid Thomas. You're trying to distract me." I shake my head at him as he walks backwards to face me. I start to push the cart again.
"Is it working?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Yeah, actually. It is." I give him a short smile. He is very good at making me feel better, whether that's about a certain situation or just in general.
"And for the record, I don't think you're stupid."
He starts playing a game, seeing how far away he can throw items into the cart. Despite me continuously telling him off, a part of me still finds it funny. Every time I chuckle, his smile grows more and more smug. After another twenty minutes, we get to the checkout where he insists on paying even though I always get the groceries.
"I thought you said this wasn't a date." I tilt my head up to him.
"Yeah, it's not." He replies and I stand in his way.
"Then stop trying to pay. I've got it." He rolls his eyes and takes a step back, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "Thank you." I chirp.
**
He drives us back, his warm hand on my thigh unless he's using it. Twisting my head to watch at him, I admire how easy he makes it look to see and feel the good in a world full of unfairness. The thought only makes me feel worse that I'm bringing it to him, to us.
I shouldn't be putting him in this position, I shouldn't be putting any of us in this position. The guilt is dragging me down further than I've ever gone before.
It's not long before we're back at the apartment building. I take as many bags as I can, not realizing how heavy they are until it's too late. Struggling to make my way up to the apartment, he swoops in behind me and takes them off of me, easily carrying them.
I follow him up to where he puts them down in the kitchen. We start to unpack without saying anything. For a fleeting moment, I stand with a jar of peanut butter in my hands, watching him as he whistles a tune. He looks so handsome, even though he hasn't done anything in particular to make an effort. It makes my stomach twinge.
"Do you mind if I go and get changed?" I ask, forcing a believable smile.
"No, of course not."
"I'll come back and help. I'll just be a minute." I walk down the hall and shut myself in my room. I press my back against the door for a moment, preparing myself.
Frantically, I get undressed, kicking my ripped jeans onto the floor before finding a bag to stuff them into. I change as quickly as I can into a pair of shorts and a tank top so it gives me enough time to pack my bag. I toss random items of clothing over my shoulder into it and then jam it into the bottom drawer of my desk to hide it.
Stepping back, my breath quickens. It dawns on me, that this idea I'm having, I'm now committing to. A hundred different emotions run through me in about a millisecond. Guilt, sadness, but relief. I collect myself for a few moments before rolling my shoulders out.
Getting back to the kitchen, Thomas throws me a smile and opens his arms out to me. I step into his embrace, hugging him back, swallowing the lump that's lodged in my throat.
**
My fingers tap on the back of my own hand as I stare up at the ceiling through the dark. I'm waiting. Waiting for the right moment but every time I think it is, I talk myself out of it. I don't want to look at Thomas, who I know is soundlessly asleep, probably with his lips parted and unfairly long eyelashes covering his closed eyes.
After a few encouraging breaths, I slowly swing my legs out of bed. Dipping my feet into a pair of shorts, I pull them up my bare legs. Padding my feet along the floor, I silently take the bag out of the drawer I'd left it in. I still avoid looking in Thomas' direction, knowing that the bare sight of him will change my mind.
I slip into the bathroom, quietly but quickly packing my toiletries into the bag until I think I have enough to last me. I pick up the strap, lifting the bag off of the counter and turn when the doorway is blocked by Thomas' hard body.
I let out a cry as he scares me. The light flicks on, my wide eyes looking up at the sadness and shock that is filling his.
"What are you doing?" He looks from me, to the bag in my hand and then back to me. I can't come up with anything to say, my throat sealed shut. "You're leaving. You were leaving, weren't you?"
I know he's not going to budge, no matter how much I want him to move out of my way, which means I'm going to have to have this conversation with him.
"Thomas, I can't stay." I sigh, dropping my tense shoulders down in defeat. "I can't put people I care about at risk." I choke slightly on the tears that are filling my eyes.
"We're not at risk." His face flashes with anger and confusion and grief.
"Yes. You are." I return, straightening out. "You all are." It frustrates me how he doesn't see it. "They hurt Sam. They're dangerous people, they could come after you next."
"I have the money. We can get security." He urgently suggests.
"Okay, if not you, what about Violet? Or Eva? Or Amanda? Would you be able to live with yourself if something happened to Amanda and Rex? Because I know I wouldn't." I jab my finger into my chest, pointing to myself. "We can't protect everybody!"
"And you think leaving is the solution? That walking out is going to fix things?!" He raises his voice and I match it. I can't see him through the blur of my tears.
"I don't know what else to do! I can't stay because I can't let people I care about get hurt!"
"Well you're going to hurt me by leaving!" I fall silent at his words, unsure of what's left for me to say. He rubs the side of his face before gesturing his hand out in front of him as he speaks. "Is, you are giving them what they want. They want to scare you."
"Guess what? I am scared!" I shout over the top of him.
"So am I! I'm fucking terrified!" His voice breaks in his hopeless cry. "But I'm not going to let fear control me because that means I'm letting them control me. And I refuse to let people like them win." His jaw is sharp, his words coming out from behind gritted teeth.
I chew on the inside of my cheek, knowing that what he's saying is right. I'm just not as strong as he is.
"So come back to bed." He whispers when he calms down. "Please." His voice cracks.
He looks utterly heartbroken and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. I'm so conflicted. I want to be able to save him but I can't leave. Not when he's looking at me like this.
I let out a long sigh before dropping the bag on the floor and taking his hand. He gives me a faint smile, turning the light off. We head back to the bedroom, letting go of each other as we slide into bed.
Through the darkness, we curl up on our sides, facing each other. The slither of light casts out the contours of his tanned, sculpted face. I sniff and he fondly wipes the tears off of my cheeks with both of his thumbs.
"You can't leave me, Is." He whimpers, stroking my skin. I squeeze my eyes for a second, basking in the feeling of his touch on me. "I'm falling in love with you."
My eyes open with surprise. My heart flutters and the tightness in my throat rises up to make me want to smile. His words have overwhelmed me, a euphoric feeling surging through me.
I dive forwards, crashing my lips into his in response. Both of us know I don't have to say it back for us to know that I'm feeling the exact same way. He kisses me back, tugging me closer by winding his big arms around me. I feel him grinning against my mouth.
My hands slide around his body as his do mine and they feel fucking amazing. I want him, all of him and I need him to have all of me. I wiggle my shorts and underwear down my hips, kicking them off. I roll over, getting on top of his lap, the pair of us giggling together.
He sits up and I lift my arms so he can help me remove my white tank top. I carefully adjust myself on top of where he's already ready and desperate for me. He groans through gritted teeth, dropping his head back. I let out a smile in between my loud breaths as he cradles my back.
I dip forwards and edge my tongue into his mouth and he takes it, kissing me back. The feeling of him against me, inside me is different now, especially after what he's just said.
He ducks his head down, sucking on each of my nipples in turn. I tug on his hair, whining as he feeds the fire that's burning within me. His hands squeeze into every part of me he can physically touch.
"Go slow." He trembles. I do as I'm told, slowly rolling and grinding my hips back and forth when I'm fully sat down on him. Our bodies slide together, slick with heat.
"You feel amazing." I sigh letting him urge me on as his fingers harden into my sides. Gradually, I get faster and faster until he falls onto his back, frantically thrusting up from underneath.
Release climbs further up my spine until suddenly, my breath catches and I arch my back, my head tilting back. He catches me and finishes, his body twitching as he lets out a final few groans.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and he presses kisses into my collarbone before resting his forehead against me. I lay the side of my head down on top of his and we catch our breath, holding onto each other.
**
It's 3:42 AM.
Pretending to be asleep isn't a new thing for me and it's something I'm definitely very good at. I glance to my side where Thomas is practically knocked out. Taking a shaky, long breath, I carefully shuffle out of bed.
Silently, my bare feet touch the floor. I fish out a jacket and some pants to change into. Grabbing my phone, I move to leave the room. I pause, looking back at the bed. Thomas is deeply asleep on his front, the covers halfway down his tanned, muscular back. I smile slightly at the sight of him. He looks so peaceful.
I tip toe out of the room. The bag on the floor in the bathroom catches my eye but I leave it where it is, knowing what it is I have to do now. It's the next best thing I can think of.
**
Getting out of the taxi cab, I stand in front of the apartment building, rolling my shoulders out in preparation. I have no idea what I'm preparing myself for, I don't know what to expect. I press down on my phone, sliding it into the back pocket of my pants.
I walk down the familiar, narrow hallways with cream walls and a tattered dark red carpet that runs along the floor. After climbing a few flights of stairs, I stand outside the horribly recognizable door, with the apartment number on it. It's the same door I kicked a key underneath a few months ago.
A few moments of hesitation pass but I quickly get over them and knock my knuckles, pulling myself up to stand straight, my jaw clenched. I'm mentally prepared for whatever is coming.
It took longer than expected but I hear the locks and chains being undone before the door opens and Nate's body fills the frame. He tilts his head, staring me down as I grit my teeth.
"I knew you'd come back to me."
**
-Frankie Kate