Hollywood Prince (Hollywood Royalty #3) - Natasha Madison Page 0,82

the beach, the wet sand sticking to my feet. Making my way to the shore, I sit down, watching the water. I twist open the bottle of Jack and bring it to my mouth, taking a huge gulp. The burn runs right down my throat. The water crashes onto the shore, and I feel like I’ve been beaten and run over by a truck. My whole body hurts. The rain comes, but I don’t move. I sit here as the rain comes down, and the sand starts to whip me. I drink each time the burn goes away; I drink until the pain is almost numb. My eyes are on the amber-colored alcohol that is almost gone. My head spins, and I fall back onto the wet sand, looking up at the sky. The clouds rolling along having its own war. When the rain stops, only the darkness stays.

I finally get up and stumble back to my house, walking inside and going straight to my bedroom. The bed hits me right away with the lone sheet on the floor. I grab the bed and pull it out of the room, throwing it over the railing and hearing a thud, but then I see a glass vase fall to the floor, shattering everywhere. I jog down the stairs, picking the mattress up and dragging it outside, the sounds of crashing the whole time I pull it out of the house. I throw it down the steps to the beach. I stumble on the sand, walking back to the house where I pick up the sheets, then find some matches and lighter fluid. Grabbing another bottle of Jack, I balance everything in my hand as I walk to the beach. I sit down near the mattress, open the bottle, and take another long pull. I pick up the lighter fluid and spray it on the mattress until nothing is left in the can. I light a match, watching the orange flame, and toss it on the bed. There’s a whooshing sound when it catches fire, and I fall back on my ass and watch it burn. The bottle of Jack never leaves my hand. The sky opens up, and the pouring rain soaks me.

“Holy shit, dude.” I hear from behind me and try to focus, but the darkness of the night, plus the Jack makes it almost impossible. “What the fuck are you doing out here?”

I cock my head to the side. “Jeff?” I ask. “Is that you?”

“I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer. Are you drinking?” He asks the question as he snatches the bottle out of my hand.

“Heyy,” I slur out and try to grab the bottle back, but my arm falls like a noodle. “I neeed that.”

“Your house looks ransacked,” he says, trying to pick me up, “and you’re soaking wet.”

“She lied,” I mumble the words. “She lied to me.”

“Fuck,” he says, trying to carry my dead weight body toward the house. He opens the gate, and we make it up the steps.

“I want to lie down right herrrre,” I tell him, looking at the lounge chairs by the pool. He doesn’t listen, though; he takes me inside and throws me on the couch. I turn to the side and look at the fireplace. I close my eyes, but the eyes that I see are the ones I’m running from. The pain in them cutting me straight to my core. But I don’t have a choice. I keep closing them only because I can see her again, even if it’s with the pain. I close my eyes one more time and whisper her name. She turns and looks at me, then walks away from me. I run to her, but the faster I run, the farther she gets. “Erin.” Her name on my lips is the last thing that I say before falling into the dark abyss.

I spend the whole night chasing her in my dreams, but she remains just out of reach. I fall to my knees, begging her to come back, begging her to love me just as much as I love her, but she never comes to me. I can never catch her. I almost do; I reach out to touch her arm, and then my eyes flicker open. The bright sun shines in the windows, so I close my eyes to dull the pain in my head. The throbbing like jackhammers. I try to swallow, but my mouth feels like it’s filled with sand.