KIMBERLY

what came over me. The withdrawal was definitely getting to my head.

Because—due to the words of an obnoxious husband—I was standing in front of my confused dad, gaping like a damn fish.

Gigi and Ana left for their annual birthday tradition of getting ice cream from a local parlor and going to a drive-in theater while Jace and Camelia were talking outside. Thankfully, after Jace and I left, everything continued on as normal because of the lack of the obvious tension.

Jace suddenly walked in, silent encouragement mixed with confusion in his eyes. It was weird to know that he wanted me to do what I wanted to do without even knowing what I wanted to do.

He confuses the shit out of me.

I'm too sober for this.

But there was no backing down.

"Stand up, please." The last word came out as a shaky breath, causing Dad to look at me with alarm and worry, like he has for the last few weeks. At first, I didn't know what it was all about. After Jace told me that Dad thought he would trigger me, I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Even though our relationship became rocky, I still loved him. I wasn't the best at telling him because he wasn't the best at telling me.

But that's how we worked.

So, for him to genuinely feel like I could hate him to the point of wanting to be completely out-of-it in his presence broke my heart.

Where did it go so wrong? I knew where, in all honesty. But, how could I let it get this bad?

Of course, there were times when I did want to be drunk or high to avoid another lecture, but I never wanted to be drunk or high because of him.

God, this is all so confusing.

"Is everything okay?" Dad asked, alarmed at my sudden demand, but still complying.

I could feel the tears coming up, so I kept my mouth closed. There was no doubt in my mind that I would emotionally vomit all over him if I dared to open my mouth.

Everyone was watching the two of us with wide eyes. It's been a while since Dad and I had a conversation without it ending in an argument, a fact that only added to my heartbreak.

The tremble of my hands had a complete mind of their own as they came up to his tie. I began undoing the knot. Trying would be the more appropriate word considering how I was shaking.

"Kimberly, what are you doing?" he asked again, pure confusion in his tone.

It wasn't the first time he called me Kimberly, but I still choked on a sob. He used to never call me Kimberly.

How did it get this fucking bad?

I pulled the tie off and straightened it out before flinging it over my shoulder. Dad stopped with the questions and just watched me as I popped his collar.

Just like I used to.

I brought the tie back around his neck and began going through the motions that were once so familiar to me.

I guess a part of me never wanted to forget.

After I finished tightening the knot—careful to not choke him the way I almost choked Jace—I fixed the collar. From the bottom of my heart, I don't know what compelled me to do this. But, for some reason, it felt right.

The tears were now completely clouding my vision as I wrapped my arms around him. "I missed this, Dad. I missed you."

He stood there, silently stunned. I didn't blame him. I don't remember the last time I cried in his arms. The last time I sought comfort from him. The last time I called him 'Dad' without using a sarcastic tone.

For what it's worth, we were in forgotten territory.

"Oh, Bear."

His arms came around my shoulders as he squeezed me in return. The sobs only came down harder when I felt his cheek press against my hair after placing a small kiss on my head. I could hear Mom choke out a sob, seeing the two people she loves most in the world fixing something that was once so beautiful and pure.

Dad just held me as I emptied the tears out of my system, only for them to be replaced by hiccups.

This is why I hate crying.

I pulled away from his chest, wiping furiously against my eyes. It took me a second to process that I still had Jace's jacket on and got mascara all over the sleeves. Shit. "Everyone close your eyes. Don't look at me. I'm hideous right now."

Light laughter broke out in the room.

Jace kept his eyes trained on me as I moved to return his jacket with a sheepish smile. "Oops."

He pulled the sleeves back up to cover my exposed shoulders and looked through the pockets. He found the tissue he was looking for and started gently wiping the tears. "You look beautiful."

Alarmed, my eyes shot up to his, surprised at his admission. He's never called me beautiful. And, judging the expression on his face, he was shocked by the words that left his mouth too.

Fuck. Fuck. Go away.

I jumped back after a few seconds as if his hand suddenly burst into flames, burning me... branding me with something I was hellbent on not feeling.

This is not supposed to happen.

At that moment, the front door opened, indicating that Gigi and Ana got back from whatever they were doing.

"The movie choices were absolute trash and I was not about to waste money on a subpar experience. What happened to art? What happened to the integrity of film?" Gigi's annoyed voice filled our ears before we even saw the girl.

"Nessa, calm down," Ana's mumble was barely audible.

"I will not stand for this," Gigi declared, turning into the family room. She briefly scanned the range of emotions in the room, confused by the spectrum. "What did we miss?"

The laugh that bubbled out of me was enough to answer that question.

♕♕♕

It was now Monday, and I decided to stay back at the townhouse.

As expected, my withdrawal symptoms were getting worse and my headaches were the equivalent of someone splitting my skull open. I was shaking, chills overtaking my body as I curled up in bed trying to find warmth.

Jace had offered to stay, like he did during the first week of my withdrawal, but after the events of two nights ago, I needed space from him. My mind couldn't stop replaying the 'you look beautiful' over and over again, despite my many attempts to keep it out.

It was official. The withdrawal was making me go absolutely insane.

I needed a drink. I could handle just one.

Just one.

Why was I feeling so guilty over one drink?

I could barely pick my body up from the bed, so I settled for crawling towards the bar cart in the corner of my room. This is pathetic.

Eventually, my knees proved useful and I hauled ass and picked up the first bottle in sight. Shit. I didn't have any glasses, nor would I be able to go downstairs to get one. So, I took a swig from the bottle, before rushing to put it away.

Just one.

The headache didn't go away—this shit isn't magical—but it dulled slightly.

I leaned my back against the couch and looked around my room. I don't remember it ever being this messy. With great difficulty, I got up to my feet with the intention to clean.

Okay, so I am definitely going insane.

I picked up the bag closest to me. I don't remember the last time I used it, but it looked so familiar. After rummaging in the bag, realization slapped me across the face as I pulled the bane of my existence out.

A bag with pills.

♕♕♕

You can do this. It's simple. Go in, find the asshole, return the bag, and walk out without putting any pills in your mouth.

Simple.

I could avoid sticking stuff in my mouth for ten minutes.

In retrospect, I should've thrown it out. Or flushed it down the toilet. Or... anything else, for that matter.

But, a stupid, prideful part of me wanted to shove the bag in Miles face and tell him to fuck off, freeing me from the remnants of the chokehold he had on me. He was the one person who didn't think that I could quit, and my stubbornness wouldn't allow that.

The second I walked in, the smell of weed hit me like a truck. Somehow, in the grand scheme of things, my weed phase did not last as long as one would've expected it to. I practically went from alcohol to hard drugs.

What can I say? I like things hard and fast.

Jace would love to hear that.

I could imagine the way his eyes would darken. The way his jaw would tighten. The sharp inhale of his breath. The meaty fingers coming up to pinch his stupidly straight nose bridge.

Stop thinking about him.

It didn't take long for me to spot the dickwad, surrounded by stoners.

The moment he made eye contact with me, his lips curled up into a disgusting smile as he made his way over to the bar that I was standing by.

"Back for more," he sneered, too close for comfort. "I have to admit, princess, I was worried when you didn't come back. How long has it been? Two weeks? Three?"

"I'm honored to know you're keeping count, but no." I took the plastic bag out of my clutch and handed it to him. "I'm done, so take this shit back and don't expect any business from me, dickhole."

Dickhole? Yeah, I'm going insane.

"I don't do refunds." He shoved my hand back towards me.

"I'm not asking for a refund, broke-ass bitch." This was probably the wrong thing to say considering how the dick legitimately sneered at me.

"Don't test me, princess."

"Don't call me princess, fuckwad. And, take the fucking bag back. Sell it to someone else if you need money that badly. Actually, no. Don't ruin someone else's fucking life over this."

I really should've just thrown it out.

He grabbed onto my wrist, pulling me close so I could smell the alcohol in his breath.

You can do this, Kim. I struggled to release his grip, but Miles just held tighter. "I said 'don't fucking test me'."

I spotted a trashcan in my view, and painstakingly leaned over to throw the bag on the other side of the bar.

"Get it back," Miles growled into my ear, twisting my arm so my back was to his front. When I didn't move, he tightened his grip painfully and pulled my arm up. "Get the fucking bag back, bitch."

"No," I gritted out in pain. "I gave you a chance to take it back and you didn't. It's not my problem anymore."

Miles shoved me roughly, leading me to stumble and hit my head on the corner of the bar before hitting it against the hard floor.

Oh shit.

I felt the warm substance running down my face, but I still brought my hand up to confirm that it was indeed blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

The feeling coursing through me wasn't foreign, but it was a rarity that I felt this way. Pure, unadulterated shock. There was a shit ton of blood on my hand right now. I didn't even realize I could bleed this much from my head.

Miles's eyes widened at my bleeding figure, but the asshole just ran off. Fucker.

I went through my clutch with my trembling non-bloody hand, thankfully finding the handkerchief that Jace handed to me on Saturday.

Fuck. I don't know what to do.

I thought shock was ruling over me, but fear seemed to be taking a lead. Getting up to my feet was a hassle. Walking outside of the club was a hassle. Keeping my hand still against my bloody wound was a fucking hassle.

Once the cool outside air hit me, I didn't know where to go and that fear took over again.

I willed, so desperately, for my legs to walk. I came here by subway, so it seemed logical to go back on the subway. But what about all this fucking blood?

Apparently, I didn't have to think of it much because my body was suddenly going down the stairs, boarding the subway. I couldn't even pay any mind to the people who were looking at me in concern and disgust, considering my injury.

Where do I go?

I couldn't go back home. I was too in shock to take myself to the hospital. There was only one option left.

I had no control over myself. I was a subconsciously moving body with one destination. Shock and adrenaline were the only things keeping me going at this point. I entered a familiar building, but I didn't stop to say 'hi' to the woman at the front desk.

Soon, I felt myself riding on an elevator before the ding rang through my ear.

I stumbled out of the elevator, the adrenaline slowly wearing off.

I didn't blame the hormone for giving up on me. This was the definition of a hot-mess. A trainwreck. A bloody fiasco, for fuck's sake.

"Kim, whatch—" Van's cheery tone trailed off, only to be replaced with one of worry. "Jace! Get the fuck out here."

My legs could no longer support the deadweight of the rest of my body. I felt them start buckling. I really hope I don't break a heel. Oh my god, Kimberly. You're dying and worrying about a fucking heel.

"What?" The voice that's been haunting my dreams for the last few days called out. "Holy fuck. What the hell?"

"Help," I breathed out.

It was the only word I was able to get past my lips and the excruciating pain in the side of my head. My legs finally gave out, but my body never reached the ground.

A strong pair of arms wrapped around my helpless form. "Venus... please. Stay awake for me."

I tried.

I wish I could tell him how hard I was trying, especially after hearing the worry in his voice.

But I was so fucking tired.

I couldn't fight the urge to fall asleep. I was tired of forcing myself to stay strong. I wanted—so badly—to just give in. For once, I just wanted to feel okay.

How could I not with those obnoxious muscles feeling like the closest thing to comfort I've had in a long time?

How could I not with that deep, familiar voice calling out my name, urging me to stay awake?

How could I not when—for the first time in a very, very long time—I felt at peace?

I didn't want to fight those thoughts right now. I didn't want to lose this.

So... I gave in.

♕♕♕

The familiar beeping noise of the machine didn't do anything to soothe my nerves or temporarily relieve the immense pain on the left side of my head.

I need a fucking drink.

I hated hospitals. After everything that I've been through in hospitals, they were absolutely the last place I wanted to be.

The memories from I don't even know how long ago suddenly flooded my brain. Oh fuck. I opened my eyes to see Jace sitting with his eyes closed in a chair beside my bed, holding my hand in his.

"Who the fuck did that to you? And, don't bother lying to me, I'll fucking know." Jace's voice cut through the air dangerously.

I didn't even realize he was awake, but his eyes suddenly opened before he tilted his head to look at me, specifically the lovely injury I was absolutely certain was going to scar.

Reluctant to answer the question, I just stared at him. Something flipped in my heart that I wanted to swat like I was playing whack-a-mole. All I could think about was 'you look beautiful' and the memories of his arms around me.

"Jace..." I trailed off.

What was I going to say?

'Remember that club I spent most of my time at during my isolation from society? Yeah, the one I promised I wouldn't go to again. Well, I went to pay my drug dealer a visit. Why? Because I'm a fucking idiot.' I wanna see how this conversation turns out.

He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thick thighs. It's nice to know that no head injury will prevent me from being horny.

"Don't 'Jace' me, Kimberly," he growled out. He took a deep breath, the ones that let me know I had done something to get to him. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, an action I immediately regretted. Jace stood up to come to my aid when my hand went to my head.

"You must like seeing me in pain, huh?" I lamely joked.

His eyes darkened, but not in the way it did when he was aroused. It was like he was imagining me in pain, but he couldn't stand the thought of it. Don't overthink this, Kim. Your brain's probably just a little more fucked up than usual.

"Venu—"

The door opened and in came the doctor, who I wanted to kiss on both cheeks for cutting Jace off. I don't think I wanted to hear what he wanted to say with that foriegn tenderness in his voice.

"It's good to see you up, Mrs. Kingston," a lady—whose name I presumed was Dr. Nigam based on the name tag—said with a smile on her face.

Besides my family and a few other people, I haven't been talking to anyone that much. And, the people I do talk to always just call me by my name. So, hearing Mrs. Kingston was about to send me into a panic attack.

"Her results?" Jace asked sternly.

I shot him a glare. A glare that meant to say 'tone down the macho-man, asshole', but he merely scowled in my direction.

"Of course," Dr. Nigam was completely unfazed by his rude attitude. How does she do it?

"The scans show signs of a mild concussion. I believe she passed out due to an influx of adrenaline in her system combined with the loss of blood. She should be better with rest and plenty of fluids." She turned to give her attention to me. "If you're experiencing pain, over-the-counter pain medication should work fine. If the pain is still there after seven to ten days, I'd like for you to come back."

"Okay, can I leave now? Please?" Desperation oozed from my voice. I could only hold off this panic attack for so long.

"The concussion is mild enough to not require an overnight stay, but I'd still recommend for you to have someone by your side for the next twenty-four hours," she replied.

Jace cleared his throat. "That shouldn't be a problem."

Oh, but it was. It was absolutely a fucking problem for me.

***

for the first time, i don't think i have anything to say.

wow, that's a weird feeling.

i guess, shit's gonna go down in the next couple of chapters. revelations and all...

i hope y'all liked this chapter!

love, zia.