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Break My Fall(83)

By:Chloe Walsh


I still wasn’t comfortable with the crowds and parties, but I didn’t want to be buzz killer. “Sure, I don’t mind.” I swallowed a mouthful of lasagna. Mmm, Derek was an unbelievable cook. I gobbled another forkful, delicious. I was still feeling off and this was the first bite I had managed in days.

“Well I mind,” Kyle said, as he marched into the kitchen. His face was like thunder and he was scowling at Cam. Jesus what was wrong now?

“What?” Cam glowered back at him. “We throw parties here all the time Kyle, what’s the big deal?”

His eyes narrowed and he hissed a sharp breath. Rummaging in the cupboard, he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He poured himself a large glass, swallowing it quickly. “The problem, Camryn, is that maybe I don’t want a fucking party in my house tomorrow night.” He refilled his glass and guzzled another shot.

“Isn’t it a little early for Jack to make an appearance man?” Derek suggested calmly, clearing his plate from the table.

“Keep your nose out of my fucking business Derek,” Kyle snarled. I stood up and took my plate to the sink. I had also lost my appetite.

“Oh, please,” Cam snorted. “We haven’t had a party here in weeks, it’s happening, so take your foot out of your ass and get with the program Carter.” Kyle glared at Cam, but said nothing. She stormed out of the kitchen.

Derek followed her, muttering something to himself. He patted me on the shoulder as he left, as if to say ‘he’s all yours’.

I was contemplating jumping into the sink and seeing if the drain could suck me down. I didn’t know how to handle Kyle when he was in this mood. I carried on washes the dishes, not really knowing what else to do. My insides were swirling and I wasn’t sure if it was nerves or the food.

“I don’t want you at any damn party,” Kyle growled from across the kitchen. He wanted me to disagree with him I realized. He wanted an argument. I was too tired to play games.

“Okay,” I said calmly. Picking up the dishtowel, I began to dry the plates.

“Okay?” he asked. “That’s it? You’re not going to fight with me on this?” Was there any point? He didn’t want me around his friends; a blind man could see that.

“No, I’m not going to argue,” I said. “You don’t want me there; you obviously have your reasons.”

I heard him sigh and cross the kitchen. His arms wrapped around my waist and my stomach churned. Yep, it was definitely the lasagna.

“Yeah, I have, but it’s not what you think,” he whispered, kissing my temple. Kyle had his reasons and they made me feel about neigh high. “I’m gonna make this all right,” he slurred. “I’ll be free soon baby.”

What the heck was he talking about?

I continued tidying the kitchen in numb calculated moves. I was trying so damn hard not to vomit.

He kissed my neck. “You want some help princess?”

I shuddered as a sharp pain shot through my side. I bit my lip to hold in my scream and shook my head. The cramps were getting worse.

He stared at me for a moment then nodded. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” Kyle walked to the kitchen door and looked back. He shook his head and left.

He was at the top of the stairs when I made a dive for the downstairs bathroom. I made it just in time to throw up the contents of my stomach.

Uh, I was never eating lasagna again.





Chapter Thirty-nine





Kyle





Music was pumping from the stereo in my sitting room. Dozens of people were crammed inside my small house. Fuck.

I downed what had to be my twelfth beer. I figured I deserved to get shit faced. I had a bad feeling about tonight. I could feel it in my guts, shit was going to go down tonight. The date was enough to make my skin crawl, December twenty third; two years to the day since the accident…fuck.

I grabbed a bottle of whiskey and chugged straight from the bottle. I didn’t want this fucking party. I would have preferred to be upstairs with Lee. My only consolation was that she had listened to me and stayed up in her room. I had told her to lock her door and stay inside. She had agreed too easily and that made me slightly suspicious, but then again, maybe it was because she wasn’t over that damn stomach flu.

Shit, she said she was feeling unwell earlier, but I couldn’t’ stay with her, I couldn’t risk Rachel talking to her before I did. My stomach twisted, thinking of how I left her curled up in her bed; she had been deathly pale. She hadn’t wanted me to leave her; she’d begged me to stay with her. If she wasn’t feeling better by tomorrow, I was going to take her to be checked out.