Chapter 32 - Rock Bottom

                                    

                                          
Chapter 32 - Rock Bottom
"I killed someone." And just like that, the whispered confession killed something in me. Some light I hadn't known existed until it was gone. That darkness provided only one comfort; that I'd hit rock bottom and I couldn't get any lower than that. I wasn't sure if being stuck there was any better though.
There was suddenly a giant hook in my stomach that had the ability to hold me on the verge of nausea without ever providing the relief of throwing up... a tornado inside me that had a knife caught in it, swirling around my stomach and cutting me up from the inside.
I think the regret was what hurt the most.
The guilt would destroy me — stir up a burning hatred inside of me, a hatred of everything and everybody, mostly of myself.
But the regret took everything from you. Not just the present, but the past and the future. It was the knife stuck in the middle of the tornado. The tornado had to pass eventually but the knife would still be there, doing its own damage.
It was that wish that you could go back in time and do one small thing differently— because then your life would be perfect, then everything would be okay — followed by the realization that no matter who you were or what you did, you could never change the past.
West was shushing my cries as he carried me somewhere, but I was too sad to breathe, let alone move. I just watched him, with a heavy detachment that brought me anything but comfort.
He placed me on the counter of the master bathroom, reaching over me to grab something from the cabinet next to my head. Our faces were so close, I should've been able to see every wrinkle of distress on his face but there weren't any. I was breaking and he was so damn calm.
I finally worked up enough energy to say something but I couldn't breathe and the words came out scratchy, straining my throat as if I'd screamed.
"I don't understand, I didn't drink that night, I knew I had to drive home." I watched as he brought a first aid kit in front of me, tearing open an antiseptic pad as he picked up my bleeding foot.
"That's why I forgave you. You had a drink right? Soda or something? I think it got spiked." He said it so calmly I almost didn't hear the admission that put everything in place and shattered the last semblance of reality I thought I understood.
"Forgave me?" He tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, nodding his head. God, I felt so small.
"Does this hurt?" He asked softly as he cleaned the gash on my foot. My heart ached.
"Everything hurts." New tears managed to escape the shattering hold I had on my sadness.
It was all over. Slate, my chance at a new life... all gone. More tears pooled out. And here I was being selfish, crying about my life coming to an end, when I'd ended someone else's. For just a second I tried to pin it on whoever had drugged me but I'd gotten behind the wheel all on my own.
West cupped my jaw with a force I hadn't expected. It wasn't painful but it took me by surprise. He'd been so calm and now his eyes were burning with an energy that wasn't there before.
His fingers flexed against my neck, tightening then releasing as if he wanted to grip me harder but he fought the urge as he angled my head up to look him in the eyes. "I can make it go away baby."
"No you can't." I cried, pushing at his chest until he moved enough for me to jump down from the counter. Pain seared through my foot as I landed on the un-bandaged cut but I needed to leave before West concreted the unwanted information he'd already hinted at. His jaw clenched tightly and I had a flashback to when he'd slammed me against a brick wall so hard I'd felt my skull shake.