Untitled Book 2(43)

 

I hold on to her as she cries on my shoulder. I know there’s nothing I can say or do to make this better, to fix this for her, so I just hold her and let her cry. I rub her back and make little sounds one would use to soothe a baby or a puppy.

 

Fuck, I’m really terrible at comforting someone, but for her, I want to try. I don’t want her to go to someone else for comfort, I want to be able to fulfill all her needs, even ones I’m not quite comfortable with. I don’t think her father really deserves her tears, but then again he did raise her. And Shay loves him, there’s no question about it.

 

“I’m sorry,” I say over and over again.

 

Soon, she stops making any noise, but the tears still fall.

 

Somehow I think the silent crying is worse.

 

I lay her down in bed and wrap her in my arms. She cries herself to sleep, and all I do is feel helpless, wishing I could take away her pain.

 

But I can’t.

 

She’ll need to fix the hole inside her on her own. Afterward though, she’ll be stronger than she was.

 

And she needs to be strong, because no matter how hard I’m going to try to save her, it seems the world isn’t done fucking her over yet.

 

 

 

 

 

TWENTY-TWO

 

 

Shayla

 

 

I DON’T leave bed for three days, except to use the bathroom. I don’t eat much, although Vinnie tries to make me. I just don’t feel very hungry.

 

I feel exhausted.

 

Mentally and physically drained.

 

My father was all I had left, really, besides Talon, and now he’s gone too. At least when he was in prison, I knew eventually I’d see him again. But now. Never again. I don’t know what to do to make the pain go away.

 

I don’t want to be like this. I know I can’t be sad forever—the world waits for no one—but how do I go on every day with this pain in my gut? Nothing means anything anymore. I just want to sleep, hide under these sheets for the rest of my life. Talon calls me, but I don’t feel like talking to anyone. Faye and the girls drop by to check on me, and I thank them but tell them that I’m okay, I just want to sleep.

 

On day four, Vinnie walks into the room with a determined look on his face. He opens the blinds, pulls the blanket off me, and says, “Get up, now.”

 

I roll over and ignore him. I hear him running water in the bathroom. Filling the bath? The next second, I’m being dragged down the bed by my feet. I start kicking my legs but there’s no way I can overpower him. He lifts me in the air and over his shoulder, then pulls down my shorts. Putting me down on my feet, he removes my top, then carries me into the bathtub, like he’s done before.

 

“I don’t want to do anything,” I say, my voice weak and pathetic. “I don’t want to leave this room.”

 

“You don’t have to,” he replies, handing me my body wash, shampoo, and conditioner. “Just have a bath, brush your teeth, then you can get back in bed. I’m going to change the sheets and bring some food in for you. If you eat it, I’ll even let you go back to sleep without annoying you.”

 

It sounds fair, so I nod and dunk my head back in the water so I can shampoo my hair. It’s really knotty, and I wonder if Vinnie will help me brush it out after the bath. The Weeknd starts to play, Vinnie knows he’s my favorite artist right now, and I close my eyes and just allow myself to enjoy the warm water on my skin. When I’m all done, I dry myself and walk naked to the room, where Vinnie has indeed changed the sheets. I dress in the black T-shirt he left out, then lie back down. He comes in a few minutes later with some rice and chicken, with another few dishes.

 

“Did you get this from a Vietnamese restaurant?” I ask him, recognizing the scent of the blended spices used in the dish.

 

He nods, looking a little sheepish. “You said once that it’s comfort food to you, right? So I got you some.”

 

I realize in this moment just how lucky I am.

 

“Thank you, Vinnie,” I say, suddenly feeling emotional. Great, now I’m going to cry over food. No, I’m going to cry because this big, bad biker is so damn thoughtful.

 

“Did you eat?” I ask him, taking the first bite.

 

“Don’t worry about me,” he says, watching me closely as I chew and swallow. “Just eat. There’s more if you want, and there’s also a variety of desserts and shit that Faye picked up. There’s cheesecake—I know how you feel about cheesecake.”

 

I did like cheesecake.

 

“Will you sit down, at least?” I ask him as he continues to stand there and supervise me. He nods and sits down. I finish half the food, feeling really full.