This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,56

my brain.

I need to call Dad.

“Warren,” Dad’s gruff voice crackles on the other line. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

I rub my palm up my cheek and into my hair. “Yeah, Dad. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

The line is silent for a moment before he speaks again. “I’m glad you called. What do you want to talk about? Want me to bore you about the New York client I’m finalizing a contract with?”

I smile and crawl into bed. “Please.”

For the next half hour, through plenty of yawns, Dad regales me with slightly embellished stories of his new client meant to make me laugh. I chuckle and find my eyelids drooping as the evening wanes on.

“Dad,” I murmur, “I’m going to go now. Thanks for boring me to sleep.”

His deep laugh soothes me, reminding me of when I was a small boy and would crawl into his lap before bed. “Always. I’ll be back in San Diego in three weeks or so. We’ll catch up then.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

We hang up and I lie in bed wondering how I’ll explain Baylee to him. He won’t be happy, that much is for sure.

I drift off with Dad on my brain.

“Lilah’s here.”

I flinched at hearing her name and dragged the pillow from my face to peek up at my father. His dark hair was streaked with greys that weren’t there two months ago. Two months of hell and my father was quickly becoming an old man.

“Tell her I can’t right now,” I murmured and started to cover my face again with the pillow.

Dad growled from the doorway. The moment I heard it creak all the way open, my heart started to race. I’d told him time and time again to stay out of my fucking room. The pillow was yanked from me and I looked into his glowering eyes as he hovered beside my bed.

“Get up and go talk to that girl. You have to at some point. Now, Warren!”

I flinched at his tone but I was already scrambling from the bed away from his nearness onto the other side. My flesh seemed to flare up because of him being in my room and I started to scratch at my forearms that were on fire.

“Get out!” I hissed.

His glare softened and he clenched his jaw. “Break up with her then. She’s been here every day like a lost little puppy. I can do almost everything for you but this is something I can’t do. End it and then she’ll go away forever.”

The thought of losing my girlfriend—the one I loved so fucking much gutted me. But how did I keep her? I couldn’t even leave my room without having a damn panic attack. Dreams from that night haunted me.

So.

Much.

Blood.

And it poisoned my brain. I couldn’t think straight. All I could understand was the dirtiness and disease and toxins that surrounded me. Disgusting problems which I could control by holing myself in my room and taking several showers a day.

It helped me.

It calmed a raging storm within me.

I felt a sliver of peace when I was scrubbing my hands raw under the scalding water.

But it was times like now, when the outside world came crashing in on me, that I lost my mind.

“Dad,” I begged, my voice choked up with emotion and threatening tears, “please go away. Tell her to go away too.”

His eyes dropped and his bottom lip drew down, a slight quiver to it. I hated seeing my father so upset but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t comfort him. Not emotionally. And certainly not physically.

“I’m so sorry.” A garbled sob escaped him before he stumbled out of my door in an incredible rush.

Hot tears burned my eyes and I clamped them closed. Balling my fists up at my side, I let out a roar of frustration. The anger inside of me was explosive and if it weren’t for me having a meltdown over the aftermath, I’d destroy my room with my two bare hands.

Punch holes in every wall.

Shove everything from every surface onto the floor.

Rip my clothes from their hangers.

Tear my comforter and sheets into shreds.

Yank at the edges of the carpet and pull it right from the concrete.

Crush the mirror above my dresser.

Anything to match the way I felt inside. Punched to death. Shoved and shoved. Ripped to shreds. Torn in two. Yanked around. And crushed to bloody, gory bits. My heart was the worst—I didn’t even think it beat anymore. I would have liked to have taken