Black Clouds of Cotton (In Vein Series Book 2) Page 8

  Dropping my hand to my side, I give her a quick nod and shuffle to the nurses’ station as I catch my breath. I check the board for my assignment and quickly scan the different rooms that I have. Grabbing a pen, I jot them down on my hand before hurrying down the hall to see where I’m needed.

  After helping to move two patients and cleaning up three of the rooms, I head back to the desk to check the list for the trauma bays. There’s a wide range of reasons why the people are here, but most are ones that will be treated and sent home. The nurses typically are the ones who handle all of the traumas, but curiosity always gets the best of me. That’s where I eventually want to work anyway. I crave the adrenaline rush that comes with it.

  I walk over to the computer and quickly pull up the list of all of the traumas and the patients being treated. Scrolling through the list, I land on the room that the girl with red hair was in. Clicking on her name, I search for her reason for being here, already dreading what I’m going to find. As my eyes scan the screen, I inhale sharply as I read why she ended up here.

  Drug overdose.

  No one is immune to drugs and the havoc that they will wreak in life. I’ve experienced it firsthand and see it every fucking day that I’m here. Closing the window, I collect myself, pushing the girl from my mind. Any hope that I once had was lost long ago and every single death solidifies the reason why I can never have hope again.

  My eyes scan the computer screen as I scroll back through the list absentmindedly. As I reach the end of the list, my stomach drops and my lungs feel like they’re about to collapse as one name stands out. The walls begin to close in on me and all of the oxygen is stolen from the air in an instant. The room spins as my heart drums against my rib cage, threatening to break free as I read the name again.

  Ander Capelli.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

  16

  Ander

  “I hope that you realize how lucky you really are,” the nurse with soft brown eyes tells me as she slips the IV from my vein. The pain medicine that they gave me just barely touches the surface of the pain that I’m feeling. When I got stabbed in the alley, it was a clean stab, just missing any vital organs. They sedated me because I had become belligerent and wouldn’t cooperate while the doctor was trying to sew my wound closed.

  I chew on the inside of my cheek as she puts a Band-Aid over the small bead of blood that forms where she pulled the needle from. It would have been nice if she had left it in for me, but that is just asking for an infection. And I’m sure that is completely frowned upon when it comes to addicts, let alone any person.

  She stands upright, giving me room as I swing my legs over the edge of the bed. My skin pulls on the stitches in my abdomen, igniting a fire of pain inside as I move. Wincing, I clench my jaw and close my eyes as I steady myself with my feet on the floor.

  Forcing my eyelids open, I meet the nurse’s gaze filled with nothing but concern as she watches me. “You should really consider staying, at least just for the night.” She frowns. “You’re at an extremely high risk for infection with a wound like that, and we didn’t even get to do a full workup on you.”

  Laughing quietly, I ignore the pain and push off the bed and onto my feet. “We both know that that’s a complete waste of time.”

  “No, it’s not,” she argues, shaking her head as she puts her hands on her hips. “Your health and ensuring that there is nothing else wrong with you is not a waste of time. It’s your life and that’s more than enough to say that it matters.”

  “Can I tell you a secret?” I ask her quietly, leaning closer to her. She narrows her eyes slightly and nods reluctantly. “You may not have noticed, but I’m a drug addict. Anything that concerns my life is an absolute waste of time.”

  She stares back at me and her throat bobs as she swallows hard. Shaking her head, she turns around and starts pulling open a bunch of drawers, grabbing different supplies from them. She grabs an empty plastic bag and shoves packs of gauze, saline, and tape inside before handing it to me.

  “You may not care about your life, but I’m sure there are people out there who want to see you alive.” Stepping to the side of the door, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Your life isn’t over, Ander. You can still choose a different path.”

  I give her a small smile, wrapping the handle of the bag around my hand. “Sometimes we don’t have a say in our destiny,” I tell her with a shrug as I walk past her through the doorway.

  “You’re wrong,” she says, following me into the hall. “You control your own destiny.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I glare at her, refusing to believe the bullshit coming from her mouth. Lifting up the bag, I hold it up to her and nod. “Thanks for the supplies.”

  I don’t give her a chance to respond before I head through the hospital and outside. The irritation festers inside as her words ring in my head.

  She was so fucking wrong.

  We don’t control our own destiny.

  Our destiny controls us.

  The stale, warm evening air slips around me as I walk out into the dark. Cars drive up and down the street, but no one wanders along the sidewalks. I find a bench near the bus stop and drop down onto it in a huff. My entire body aches from the trauma it went through and the side of my face burns as the scabs stretch with my skin as it moves.

  Reaching into both of my front pockets, I feel for my phone but come up empty-handed. Leaning to the side, I wince as my abdomen screams in protest from the way I’m moving and I pat my back pockets. I lean back onto the back of the bench and sigh, holding my side. I was pretty high when I left the house with Anya, so my phone could easily be back in my room, but the guy that stabbed me could have taken it just as easily too.

  One of the side effects of doing drugs and drifting through life in a constant state of being high: your memory is utter shit.

  I don’t have a phone and I don’t have any money. I have literally no way of getting home except for the sneakers on my feet right now. Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the back of the bench in defeat. With the pain radiating from my abdomen, I don’t even think I could make it a block from here without collapsing. Whatever they gave me for the pain has curbed any withdrawal symptoms from the lack of heroin in my system, but it’s only a matter of time before that wears off too.

  For the first time in a long time, I wish I had someone here with me. Someone who has my back or to look out for me. All I need is a fucking ride home and I’m stranded outside of the hospital, sitting on a bench in the middle of the night alone. I’ve been in worse situations, but I’m consumed by an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

  It’s too much to process, the feelings that swarm me without any warning. The physical pain is better than the psychological, but I’m overcome with more emotion than I’ve felt in a long time. I don’t even know what I want help with... I just want someone to hold my hand and tell me it’s all going to be okay. There was only one person who ever gave me that sense of security and she was nowhere to be found. She made me feel like I had a place on this earth and gave me a reason to want to be alive, but I was fucking selfish and I had one thing on my mind.

  My addiction stripped me of the only person I had ever loved.

  There was no going back from what I did to her and how I betrayed her, but I would give anything just to see her one more time. To hear the soft sound of her voice, to feel her skin against mine...

  Slowly peeling open my eyes, I lift my head, looking back down the street and watch the cars as they speed past. Turning my head in the opposite direction, I glance back toward the hospital and my heart stops beating in my chest. My breath catches in my throat and all of the air is stolen from my lungs. My surroundings fade away and I’m frozen in place, staring at a fucking ghost.

  The very ghost with those hazel eyes that haunt my mind.

  Hadley fucking Winters.

  17

  Hadley

  Standing in the darkness of the night, the stre
etlight above the bench illuminates him sitting there in silence. It feels like I’m caught up in a dream, finally seeing him after all this time. I watch him quietly as he sits lost in his own thoughts. I wasn’t sure how he would look when I would finally see him, but his appearance is much worse than I had imagined.

  He’s lost a considerable amount of weight and looks as if a gust of wind would carry him away. His presence alone reaches out to me, consuming me like it always has. I’m lost in a trance, caught in a state of shock.

  This can’t be real.

  He slowly lifts his head, as if the weight is almost too much to bear, and looks in the opposite direction down the street. I take a few steps closer, stopping as he turns his head when his gaze lands on me. His face is battered and sunken in with dark circles beneath his eyes. I watch the color drain from his face and my stomach drops as his blue eyes shine from the streetlight above, staring directly into my eyes.

  We both look at each other as if we’ve just seen a ghost and we have. He’s been the ghost I’ve been looking for in everyone I meet and here he is, in the flesh. I fight the urge to pinch myself, not sure if I really want to be woken from this dream, if that’s what it is.

  Tears prick the corners of my eyes. “Ander?” His name is a whisper on my lips and I let out the breath that I didn’t realize I was holding. I take a few steps closer and my body burns under his gaze as he watches me walk toward him. I hear the sharp intake of his breath as I stop beside him.

  Ander stares up at me, his eyes a mix of emotions as they widen slightly. “It’s really you,” he says quietly. Pain washes over his face as he sits up with his jaw clenched tight. Instinctively, I rush to him and help to steady him until he’s sitting upright. Leaning down in front of him, my hand lingers on his arm, melting into the familiar feeling of his skin.

  I’ve missed this so much.

  My soul relishes in the feel of him under the palm of my hand, and I fight back the tears that well in my eyes from the rush of emotions that he ignites. Ander watches me with an unreadable expression, but the waves in the oceanic depths of his eyes pull me in. I can’t fight it anymore and the tears spill over, streaking down my face.

  Crouching down, I pull my hand from his arm and cover my face, shaking as a sob rips through my body. The softness of his palms warms my skin as he wraps his hands around my wrists and gently pulls them away from my tear-stained face. Cupping the sides of my face, he lightly swipes the pads of his thumbs across my cheeks, brushing away my tears.

  “Shhh,” he says softly, pulling me toward him. “Don’t cry, babe.”

  My throat constricts from the sound of his voice and his words. I fight to hold back the sob that threatens to break free as I quickly shake my head at him. “Don’t,” I warn, choking on the word as it slips from my lips. Ignoring me, Ander pulls me onto his lap and I don’t fight him. Instead, I collapse in his arms as he wraps them around me. I bury my face in his neck, soaking his black T-shirt with my tears as he holds me tightly against him.

  Minutes pass and we don’t move, with me in his lap and him holding me close as I ride out the waves of my despair. I’m a mix of emotions, unable to distinguish one from the other as there’s pain and happiness that rushes through me. I cry for the loss of him before and I cry for his return back into my life. The fact that he’s still breathing and his heart is still beating is a miracle in itself, not to mention the fact that I can feel the warmth of his body against me again.

  This is real.

  Releasing his shirt fisted in my hands, I pull back from him, wiping away the moisture on my cheeks. His hands rest lightly on my hips and he watches me hesitantly, the heartache evident in his eyes as they bounce back and forth between mine. My touch is gentle as I caress the sides of his face and his eyes fall shut as I lightly run my fingers over the abrasions marring his skin.

  “What happened to you, Ander?” I ask him quietly, swallowing over the lump still lodged in my throat as he lets out a shaky breath.

  He opens his eyes and stares back at me with his clear blue irises. “What hasn’t happened?”

  “You’re still alive,” I whisper, trailing my fingers along the sides of his jaw.

  A wave of pain flashes in his eyes and the corners of his lips curl upward in a small smile, filled with sadness. “Barely.”

  I can’t fall back into this deep, dark hole with him again.

  Reluctantly, I slowly move from his lap and onto the bench beside him. A coldness settles in the air between us, replacing the warmth from where he was touching me. The subtle movement puts so much distance between us and I feel my broken heart crumble.

  He glances over at me, his eyes scanning me up and down as I nervously look away from him. “So, you work here now?” he asks as he settles against the back of the bench, folding his hands on his lap.

  “Yep,” I reply curtly with a nod. The pain inside me is like fuel to the anger that burns it away. The anger is something I can deal with. It’s an unhealthy coping mechanism, but it masks the pain that rips me to shreds.

  “It looks like you are really finding your place in the world, Hadley.”

  Whipping my head to the side, I cut my eyes at him, glaring at him harshly. “Can we not fucking do this?” I snap, unable to contain the anger boiling inside. “You left me, Ander, without a second thought. You don’t get to show back up and make small talk with me like we’re old friends. We are not fucking friends.”

  “We were never friends.” He stares back at me, matching my gaze with a storm brewing in his eyes. “When two people share the same soul, they’re bonded together with a force stronger than friendship could ever define.”

  I laugh loudly. The sound is harsh and borderline manic. “You have got to be kidding me right now.”

  Ander doesn’t say a word, but his eyes say everything for him. He’s dead ass serious. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I believed him at one point, but now I’m not so sure what to believe or what to even feel. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, collecting myself and swallowing down the anger. This isn’t the time, nor is it the place to hash out the past.

  Not that I even really want to go back down that road. It’s far too painful to revisit the past.

  Exhaling slowly, I reopen my eyes and catch him watching me again. He keeps his eyes trained on me, almost as if he’s afraid that if he looks away, I’ll vanish.

  “So, are you waiting for a ride, or what exactly are you doing, just sitting out here?”

  Scratching the back of his neck, Ander purses his lips. “Something like that.”

  Silence settles between us for a moment and I wring my hands together, waiting for him to offer something else, but he doesn’t. I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do next, but I can’t help it. I will always be driven by some need to help him, whether he wants my help or not.

  “Come on,” I say, rising to my feet. Extending my arm, I hold my hand out for him. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

  Ander glances down at my hand before looking back at me with an eyebrow raised. “You don’t have to do that,” he says quietly, taking my hand in his, regardless.

  “I know I don’t have to,” I admit, feeling a rush from his soft skin touching mine. “But I want to.”

  18

  Ander

  I stare back at her, my lips parted slightly in surprise. She caught me off guard, offering to drive me, and I know that I can’t accept her offer. I’m so used to being skeptical of people and their alternative motives behind everything that they do, but when it comes to Hadley, that isn’t even a thought.

  She is the most genuine person I have ever met in my life and I couldn’t be more grateful for that.

  I’ve caused nothing but pain in her life, yet she’s here reaching out to me like a fucking lifeline. The resentment that she feels toward me is completely justifiable. I don’t blame her for hating me, I can’t blame her for all of the anger that she harbors that I’m the root cause for.

  I told
her that I would destroy her and that’s exactly what I did.

  Hadley gently pulls me to my feet, moving slowly as my body screams in protest against the sudden change in my position. She helps me to find my balance, helping to stabilize my core. Her hand lands on my wound and instantaneously, I cry out as the pain erupts in my abdomen.

  “Shit, I’m so sorry,” she gasps, pulling her hand away as I grip at my hair. Her fingertips are soft as they graze my skin and she pushes my shirt up, revealing the bandages protecting the entrance and exit wound. “Who did this to you, Ander?”

  “Some junkie looking to score,” I tell her quietly, casting my eyes to my feet as the embarrassment creeps in. “He snuck up behind me in the alley and stabbed me in the back. I never got a good look at his face.”

  “Did you go to the cops?”

  Dropping my arms to my sides, I lift my head to look at her, cocking my head to the side. “What do you think?”

  Hadley’s brow furrows and sighs. “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”

  “Stop apologizing for everything and we’re good.” I give her a small smile and a wink. Hadley rolls her eyes at me, but her lips quickly betray her, curling upward into a smile. It doesn’t quite touch her eyes, but it lights up her face, nonetheless. It’s something I’ve longed to see, replacing the pained look that she has been wearing since I walked back into her life.

  Time is suspended as our surroundings fade away, and it’s just the two of us standing on the sidewalk together. She’s all I see, whether my eyes are open or closed. Even when I was lost in a fog and my vision was blurry, she was still the only thing I’ve ever seen. Like the moon, she shines brighter in my darkness, and without her, the world is fucking pitch black.