Page 165 of Lessons In Grey
The world blurred around me, and when I didn’t respond, he answered. “Hello?”
My heart thudded as I pressed myself into the door, straining to hear his voice.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you right now,” he said quietly. “Sorry, man.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to stifle the crying. This was why I didn’t want to be in any sort of relationship. This…thisbullshit. It hurt too much.
“It’s not my place, Greyson.”
I tipped the bottle back again, gulping down, the alcohol burning all the way down. I drank until my mind started to buzz.
“She knows that—”
I pulled the bottle away, wiping my sleeve across my mouth, gasping for air.
“Greyson, it isn’t my place. I’m sorry. You just have to wait.”
He was quiet a moment before he sighed. “Emily, did you take any pills? Have you hurt yourself?”
My eyes widened, the anger boiling under my skin. I shoved myself to a stand, the world swaying around me, and ripped the door open. “Fuck you,” I snapped.
Jeremy pushed himself up, the phone to his ear, guilt in his eyes. “He told me to ask.”
“That was directed at him,” I replied coldly.
He pulled the phone away, offering it to me. “He wants to talk to you.”
I held his eyes, refusing to look at that phone, my grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, my jaw working painfully.
After a few seconds, Jeremy sighed and put it back to his ear. “I told you, she’s not doing it.” His eyes flicked down to the bottle and back. “She’s drinking.”
I gaped, my heart stuttering. “What the fuck?” I breathed.
Jeremy shook his head. “It’s not me—”
I shoved the bottle into his chest, forcing him back a step. “I took more anti-depressants, you absolute dick,” I breathed. “I’m not suicidal, I’m fucking angry.”
The elevator dinged.
Jeremy closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be in the middle of this,you both need to talk to each other.”
“You put yourself in the middle of this when you answered the goddamn phone,” I snarled, tears pouring down my cheeks. “I told you not to do it.” The absolute nerve of him to bring Jeremy into that conversation. I wanted to fucking scream.
“I have to, Emily,” he pleaded as the gate opened. “Malachi is my boss, and I need to know what’s happening if I’m to keep you safe.”
“You had no right to ask me that,” I seethed.
He looked guilt-ridden. “It was Greyson, not me, he’s worried.”
My chest felt like it was about to explode, my mind spinning and hazy, the world tipping on its axis. Too much alcohol, too many pills, too many emotions. I needed to fucking sleep.
“What’s happening?” Ash asked, worried.
“Ask Matthew,” I stated coldly. “Grey’s giving him all the information.”
“Emily,” Jeremy tried. “That’s not true.”
I shoved past him. “Matthew knows he’s in Ireland!” I shouted. “I didn’t even know he had left fucking Africa!”