I take a few large gulps, forcing myself to drink it slowly so I don’t throw it up. He’s right; I do need to remain as hydrated as possible. I can’t imagine this process would feel any better if I was dehydrated. He takes the bottle from me as I fall back onto the bed, closing my eyes.
“What time is it?”
“It’s a little after three,” he responds, setting the water on the bedside table. Sidling up next to me, he pulls me close, hands softly petting my sweat-soaked hair. “Go to sleep. I got you,” he coos into my ear.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Crew
I’m dying.
A slow, painful fucking death.
My bones are chafing together, my muscles are disintegrating, and every single inch of me aches. Places I didn’t even knowcouldache, do. My fucking eyeballs ache. My fingers ache. My brain wants to explode, throbbing behind my skull, begging to be set free, and my blood is boiling in my veins, showing no reprieve.
It’s been two days since the withdrawals started, and there’s no sign of them letting up any time soon. My entire body shakesconstantlyand my heart thumps so hard behind my ribs, I’m surprised I haven’t cracked one yet.
I must’ve snapped at Anderson one too many times, because Katie is the one who keeps coming to check up on me lately. Giving me water or Gatorade, practically shoving toast down my throat despite it always ending up in the toilet right after, bringing me cold, wet washcloths for my forehead. I’m shocked she hasn’t tried to fucking bathe me yet.
Speaking of my personal handmaid, the door creaks open as feather light footsteps sound across the floor. She’s standing over me, but I refuse to open my eyes. That would require effort I simply don’t fucking have.
“Babe, I know you’re awake,” she murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Anderson hired a nurse to come to the house to help you get through this. Make sure you’re hydrated enough, keep you as comfortable as possible, that kind of thing. She just arrived, but I wanted to let you know before I brought her in. Is that okay?”
“Well, if she’s already fucking here, do I really have a choice?” In the back of my drug deprived mind, Idofeel bad for snapping at her, and Anderson. They’re both only trying to help, but I can’t stop it. My anger goes from zero to hundred in seconds these past few days.
“There’s no need to be a dick, Crew. I’ll go get her. Try to be fucking nicer to her. She doesn’t know you, or love you the way we do, so she’s less likely to take your attitude.”
My eyes peel open in time to watch her tall, slender form march out of the room. Her long auburn hair is pulled into a high pony, and it’s whipping back and forth as she walks.
Sitting up with my back against the headboard, I uncap my Gatorade, swallowing down half of it, before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. My throat is sore from all the puking I’ve done over the last few days, but the cool liquid feels good going down.
When the door pushes open again, a short, brunette woman in black, thick-framed glasses and navy-blue scrubs is trailing behind Katie. She has a medic bag on her arm and black, clunky clog-like shoes on her feet. She doesn’t appear to be much older than us—maybe in her early thirties—but she looks wildly familiar.
“Crew, this is Abigail. She’ll be your nurse for the next week or so.” Katie smiles, glancing from me to the nurse.
I still don’t know why I feel like I know this woman.
“Oh, please, call me Abby.”
There it is. It clicks. My throat plummets to my stomach, bile threatening to spew out of my mouth. It’sher. The nurse from my accident. My spine straightens, fists clenching on my lap. All noise is blocked out by the blood whooshing in my ears.
“Get the fuck out,” I growl.
Katie’s eyes widen, her mouth dropping open. “Crew! What did—”
“Get her the fuck outnow, Katie.”
Something seems to click in Katie’s eyes—an understanding, maybe—and she ushers nurse fucking Abby out of the room. Flinging the blanket off my lap, my feet carry me into the bathroom, dropping to my knees barely in time to hurl into the bowl.
My throat is raw, the acidic bile burning on its way up. Tears sting my eyes as my stomach convulses. Thunderous pain ricochets through my body.
Sometime later, Katie comes back, finding me on the floor in the bathroom. I have no idea if she was gone for five minutes or five hours at this point. Time has no fucking meaning as I lie here on the cold, hard floor, wishing death to come and put me out of my misery.
Grabbing a washcloth out of the towel closet, she wets it, sitting down beside me. The cold rag is placed on my forehead as her kind, soft eyes study me. She and I don’t know each other very well. I know she’s Knox’s best friend, and Aston’s by proxy, but this is only the second time I’ve met her, and she’s been taking care of me. Why she’s so kind is beyond me.
“Want to tell me what that was all about?” she asks tentatively.
“Not really.”