The clink of the metal door sounded like the metal of my own personal jail in hell closing.
“Maybe, she’s rethought that sobriety, huh, Alteo?” He waved at his friend in the corner who looked disgusted by what he had witnessed. “And look, I accidentally dropped this on the way out. That’ll help you make all our lives less miserable. Maybe just another hit. It’s even stronger than the dose I gave you. Then I’ll come check on you.”
He turned away, and Alteo walked out after him, eyebrows scrunched together like he felt some sort of guilt. I ran my hands along the dirt of the floor, avoiding that capsule of death.
Ending my life now would have been an easy out. Vincent had shown me that. Succumbing to any sort of anguish by wiping yourself out is less painful than having to live through it. I knew that. It was like going through the coldest winter in the hopes you’d see summer on the other side, drowning but still clawing to the surface in the hopes you’d make it to the sunlight, to air, to living.
I wanted to live. I wanted to unstrap the burden of my addiction and throw it out.
But I grabbed that needle after an hour of sitting there and finally faced it. I held it in my hands the way I used to; I held it to my arm the way I used to.
I teetered on the edge.
I lay down on that dirty cement floor and stared at it. I wondered if Lucas would have told me to fuck it and go for one last high or if he would have told me to fight.
I knew the answer. He believed in my fight.
Still, there in that room, I came to terms with death, I think. I let the dirt mix with my hair and my tears as I struggled with the fact that I wasn’t solving anything locked in a room. I wasn’t going to get to see Lucas.
I wasn’t going to get to tell Cade I loved him.
I wasn’t going to solve any election rigging and make my family proud.
And that’s how he found me.
27
Izzy
Cade Armanelli walked right into the room my kidnappers held me in like we weren’t in some undisclosed location, like he had the authority to, like he freaking owned the place.
I took in his stupid suit. It looked unruffled, as if he’d just come from work, and the only thing that showed anything different was his face. He came up to me but stopped abruptly and frowned when he saw what was in my hands.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, not hiding that I was fighting for my life down here- not just at the hands of the men that kidnapped me, but at my own hand. I was fighting against the need to end it all.
He gave me a look like I was a complete imbecile. “What the fuck do you mean what am I doing here? Give me that. Now.” He pointed to it.
“Are you saving me?” My voice shook, ignoring his command. “Are we safe? Because Dion—”
“We’re safe. Alteo gave me access to you after I leveraged his bank account and his father’s. His father is coming here now to have a word with me regarding this whole mix-up.”
“Mix-up?” I squeezed the needle tight. “This isn’t a fucking mix-up.”
He cut me off with a hard tone and a look of fury. “I’m aware, Izzy.” He stuck his hand out. “Give me the needle.”
“Why?” I stared at the dirt on the ground and licked my cracked lips. “I’m only one day sober at this point—”
“Eight years and thirty days.”
My eyes whipped up at him—how did he know the exact number? He glared back at me.
“No.” I shook my head, my dirty matted hair waving back and forth as I sat there. “They stole that.”
“I know you think so, dollface.” His words sounded like coddling, but the tears sprang to my eyes anyway. “I hacked your phone. You did good recording something. But I heard you. And I’m so fucking sorry.” His voice cracked, and then he cleared his throat, like he might cry, like he was broken up about all this, like he cared. “But no one gets to steal that from you. Your sobriety is yours. If someone takes it, it doesn’t count.”
“Who says?” I whispered, my heart splintering at his rationality.
A small smile formed on his lips. “Me. And I can write it in anything across the fucking globe if you like. I’ll put it on every website and into every book printed because I believe it and you should too. It’ll be the damn ‘Izzy clause.’”