Divided (Unguarded #2) - Ivy Stone Page 0,46

my life, I don’t hate it. At least, I thought I didn’t. Until now. It’s as if time has rewound. The past is on repeat, the Ali I used to know has taken center stage. Stumbling. Drowsy. Off-her-fucking-face-intoxicated in Lindsey’s arms. If this thing we have is love. Then this is fucking heartbreak in its finest, most excruciating motherfucking form. The pain squeezing my heart becomes unbearable. I shove my hands down to rest on my hips and turn my head away. I can’t watch anymore. I can’t be the only one believing in her. I can’t save her if she doesn’t want to save herself.

Cassidy’s low voice cuts through the tension filled air. “Well, I’m going to find Eli and head off. Ali’s got who she needs, so I’ll catch you all later.”

She eyes Lindsey with a tight smile, tone thick with emotion and it must resonate something in each of us because as I cough past the lump rising in my throat, Lindsey squirms, her eyes etching with pain and Mason pulls her into him with a reassuring squeeze.

Mason nods to Cassidy while Lindsey and I stay silent, the only noise now the background sounds of the bar and the music drifting out. “Thanks, Cassidy.”

Cassidy shakes her head and puts her bag in her other hand up under her arm, securing it between it and her body. “It’s no problem. Bye, guys.” She waves off. Ali groans softly, the painful sound tethering my resolve.

“You’re safe now, Ali. I’m out—”

“No. Roam wait,” Ali cuts me off and pulls herself up from the ground. I stand tall, my body rigid as she clutches her stomach, face contorting in agony. Everything in me screams to comfort her but I force my arms to stay by my side. Not this time.

“Can’t do this shit again, Ali. I’m going home, you should too.” I turn away, unable to look at her, to see her face soften with hurt and weaken me down.

Her hair flicks from side to side and she shakes her head. Grabbing it with her hands. “You don’t understand. I didn’t touch any alcohol. I didn’t take anything.” She powers forward, racing into me, gripping onto the front of my shirt while her whole body trembles as she holds back the tears glassing her eyes with wetness. “You have to believe me. I wouldn’t, not anymore…” she trails off, her pleading gaze never leaving mine. Every part of me wants to believe her, but how can I when this is what she does? What she’s always done?

I grab hold of each of her wrists, pulling her hands off me, but I don’t let her go. I lower our hands between us. My jaw clenches, and I look to the ground. “That’s the thing, babe. I don’t believe you.” I drop her hands letting go and walk away because tonight, she needs to save herself.

I never thought I’d been in love until tonight. For the past seven years, I’ve felt something for this girl who’s grown into the woman I’ve never gone a day without thinking about. Is it love? Is it love when it pushes every boundary? When despite being with other people, I still—always have, considered her mine? The only thing I’m sure of is my heart stops in the first moment I see her for the day. Hearing the lightness in her laugh warms my insides like nothing else ever has. And when I witnessed her at her worst, my feet didn’t fight the urge the run. They pushed forward with the pining need to pick up every broken piece of her and be the reason she found the strength to hold on. But everyone has a limit and I’d just reached mine. If I’m going to fight for us. I need her to fight for herself.

My eyes connect with the clock.

Half an hour.

I rake a hand through my hair, slink back into the uncomfortable hospital chair without so much as I glance at Lindsey. A half hour we’ve been sitting here—with the sick, the elderly, babies crying—waiting for an answer on what drugs were in my system.

Lindsey’s hand comes to rest on top of mine. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m sure it won’t be much longer now.”

Her words bring comfort but they don’t suppress the unease sitting in my stomach, despite knowing I never took any drugs or alcohol. She doesn’t know that all I really wanted two nights ago at the bar was to sink into a drug