Stay(92)

I woke up having to pee, but I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to see the lifeless body hidden under a faded quilt on the dirty, cold floor. I waited until it was necessary to get up and rush to the toilet. I kept my eyes on my feet, not risking looking up, and dashed back to the cot once I was done.

My stomach grumbled, and my mouth was so dry. Just then I realized that by sitting there, paralyzed by grief, I was letting myself die too. I got up, took in a breath, and went to the card table. I couldn’t bring myself to turn around. I still couldn’t handle seeing her. I sorted through the wrappers. The only food that was left was Phoebe’s half eaten Pop-tart. I picked it up, breaking off the part she had eaten, saving the untouched part for myself. I quickly ate it and then went to the shower to fill up an unwashed plastic cup with water.

I picked up Gone with the Wind and sat on the edge of my cot. I flicked my eyes to Phoebe’s empty bed and cleared my throat. My voice trembled as I choked back a sob. “Chapter one.” I swallowed the lump that formed in my throat. “Scarlet O’Hara was not beautiful,” I read. “But men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were.” I didn’t know what else to do. I just kept reading.

“Addie?” Jackson’s voice came from the top of the stairs, causing me to jump. He hurried down the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing throughout the basement. I put the book down and stood, suddenly feeling weak. My bottom lip trembled. “What’s wrong?” he asked as soon as he saw my face.

I couldn’t say the words. I just pointed to Phoebe’s cot. Jackson rushed over, his face going white when he saw her. He dropped to the floor and checked her, making sure she was really dead. He stood, taking a few steps back. His head slowly moved to the side. Once his eyes met mine, he snapped himself back to reality.#p#分页标题#e#

“Fuck, Addie.” He ran over to me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. He pulled me in a protective embrace. His arms were shaking. “I’m so sorry.”

“I tried,” I told him, my voice strained and high-pitched as I tried not to cry. “I tried but it didn’t work. I couldn’t get it to stop and then I broke something.”

Jackson pulled my hair behind my shoulder and rubbed his fingers up and down my back. “What are you talking about?”

“She fell,” I said as warm tears streamed down my face. “And had a seizure. Then she stopped breathing and I couldn’t find her pulse.”

“Shhh,” Jackson soothed when I started crying again.

I remembered the sound of her sternum cracking and the way it felt crunching under my hands. My knees felt weak, and my legs began to buckle. Jackson scooped me up and sat on the cot, keeping me in his lap. I hooked my arms around his neck and took a deep breath. He smelled clean, like laundry detergent and soap. For some reason, the scent was calming. I buried my face against his skin and closed my eyes.

“I won’t let this happen,” he whispered. “Not anymore. I can’t ... we can’t. I hate seeing you get hurt.” He shook his head. “Let’s run.”

His words sent a shock through my numb body. “Really?” I asked and lifted my head off his neck.

“Yes, really.” He pulled me to him, our lips meeting for a fleeting kiss. I tangled my fingers in his hair and never wanted to let him go. I loved Jackson, needed him. I didn’t want him to go upstairs and be left alone down here. I didn’t want Nate and Zane to hurt him. I wanted us to be together without fearing for our lives. Shoes echoed on the old wooden planks as someone walked down the stairs. Jackson stood so fast I almost fell to the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing down here?” Zane asked Jackson. His tone was angry, but excitement gleamed in his eyes. He wanted to catch Jackson doing something he wasn’t supposed to. It gave Zane a reason to hurt him.

“Phoebe,” Jackson stated and waved his hand in her direction. “She’s dead.”

“Shit,” Zane swore and looked annoyed. “No wonder it smells like ass.”

I bit my bottom lip and stared at the ground. Jackson crossed his arms. “I’ll take the body,” he said.

“How dead is she?” Zane asked and walked around the cot. He covered his nose with his arm and nudged Phoebe’s body with the toe of his shoe. “She was supposed to work.” He tipped his head and knelt down. “Maybe … ” he shook his head. “No, not fresh enough.”

I thought I was going to puke. My head turned up, and I stared at Zane in horror. He stood and caught my gaze. He eyed me up and down and frowned in disgust. He swiftly walked over, extending his arm. Jackson ran over, putting himself in front of me.