Holy shit, what the fuck is happening?
I spy the bottle of pills on the floor and rub my neck, bits and pieces of the night before coming back to me. I wanted sleep so bad that I downed half a bottle of pills. I just needed a few hours where I could forget about everything and stop the thoughts from churning around in my mind. Well, they sure did the trick.
My legs unsteady, I swing them out and sit on the edge of my bed. Nausea pulls at my stomach, threatening to expel the contents of my stomach. Not that there’s much in there since I haven’t eaten a proper meal in days. Maybe even longer, since I feel like I have no concept of time at the moment.
A glance at my phone tells me it’s Saturday morning, which means I had been asleep for nearly eighteen hours. No wonder I feel like shit. I ignore the messages waiting for me from Sam and bring up Jake’s number. Irritation creeps into my thoughts. It’s not rational, but I’m so angry at my brother.
Where the hell is he?
Why isn’t he here when I need him?
The phone rings out just as the door creaks open. I look up, my anger giving way to relief when I see Jake standing there. I get to my feet and stumble forward, throwing my arms around his neck. He chuckles and pulls away far enough to study my face.
“What’s all this?”
“I was worried about you.” My voice cracks and Jake frowns, studying me a little bit closer. His gaze shifts to the bottle still on the floor. “I couldn’t sleep,” I mutter, feeling ashamed. “I tried calling you last night, but you wouldn’t answer,” I add, as if this is all his fault.
“I was busy,” he murmurs, distracted.
“Doing what?” Now it’s my turn to be suspicious.
Jake shrugs, sitting down opposite me with his back against the wall. He looks calm and more composed than I think I’ve ever seen him, a hint of a smile visible on his thin, red lips.
“Taking care of the Marissa problem.”
My ears prick up. “What the hell does that mean?”
“Just what it sounds like. I took care of her.” Jake beams at me, his dark eyes shining with satisfaction, like a puppy who’s just learned a new trick. “Relax. I’ll make sure nothing ties back to us.”
“What are you talking about?” I whisper. My heart thumps. He wouldn’t have done anything that stupid, would he? But as much as I don’t want to believe he’d be capable of anything like that, a little part of me isn’t so sure. “Where is she?”
“It’s best you’re not involved—”
“Not involved?” I blast at him. “This is all my fault, Jake. I’m involved whether you want me to be or not. Please tell me you haven’t done anything stupid—”
“That’s the first thing you assume?” He looks hurt. “Excuse me for trying to clean upyourmess.” He sighs and reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry, Clo, I didn’t mean that. I know that none of this is your fault. I’m just angry.”
“At me?” I ask meekly. I feel like he should be, and I hate it. I can’t handle him being angry at me.
“No, silly girl.” He shakes his head and touches my cheek tenderly. “At myself. I should’ve protected you.”
I know he’s not talking about Sam or what we’re going through at the moment. He’s talking about my past. Back when we were kids. He couldn’t protect me from what that monster took from me, night after night. I stare at the bed, too ashamed to look at him.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper the words. “I’m sorry for everything.”
“Stop saying that,” he soothes me. “None of this is your fault. It’s Victor’s fault. It’s Mum’s for doing what she did. And it’s Marissa’s, for making you think Sam was involved in all that shit. She deserves everything that’s coming to her.”
My mouth snaps shut.
What the fuck has he done?
“Take me to her,” I tell him, grabbing my phone and purse off the table.
“Chloe—”
“I’m not letting you take the fall for this, Jake,” I insist. “Take me with you. I can help.”
For a moment I think he’s going to fight me on this, but then he sighs and motions for me to get up.