Page 77 of Beautiful Trauma
“Find another drummer,” I replied simply.
“Tell me you didn’t do this on purpose, Sergio.” She stared at me accusingly.
“I didn’t do this on purpose.”
“You’re just repeating what I said.”
“Doesn’t really matter, does it?” The whole thing pissed me off. If anything, this situation was her fault. If she hadn’t insisted Cee come with us, Cee wouldn’t have been on a bender for the last couple of weeks ending with a fight in a parking lot. At least with a broken hand, I could stay behind and bring some normalcy to her life.
Whatever the fuck that looked like these days.
“She needs to process this on her own,” Elle said. “I should’ve seen it before, but she needs to do this on her own terms.”
Elle was right. Eli had warned me. He told me to let her hit rock bottom because she’d pull herself out, and I thought I did that, but I was wrong. I was cushioning the blow, and it was time to let her fall. “I’m just making sure those terms don’t end with her in a casket.”
“My sister would never do that.”
She really has no idea. “I sure as hell hope not, but I think even you can see she’s not in control right now.”
Forty-Seven
After Silas and Elle left my room, I went down the hall to find Cee. I wanted to check in on her after the crazy night we’d had. Giving a light knock on the door to the room I knew she was in, I called, “Cee? You awake?”
A few seconds later, she opened the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she was wobbling on her feet. “Why are you here?”
“Because you need me. I’ll always show up when you need me.” I cupped the side of her face in my hand gently. Drunk Cee not only let me touch her, she leaned into my hand as if she liked it.
I held her steady as I walked us into the room, kicking the door shut behind me.
“But who designated you as my guardian?” Her eyes pierced mine.
I took a deep breath because I really didn’t want to do this with her tonight. “I told you, I promised Eli I’d make sure you were okay.” There's no way she’ll remember that tomorrow.
Tears poured down her face at the mention of her dead best friend. “But someone—” she choked on the words. “Someone alive sent you. Someone told you I wasn’t okay.”
“I was there in the parking lot.” I held up my injured hand. She wasn’t making sense.
“Not just today,” she hiccupped the words.
Someone should have, but I came all on my own. “Are you trying to say you’re okay, bestie?” She blinked back the tears, trying to focus on my face. “I didn’t think so. A lot of people care about you. I happen to be one of them.” I absently wiped a tear from her face with my thumb.
“And yet you’re the only one here,” she scoffed.
“Because I insisted I was the one for the job.”
“Why? We don’t get along on a good day. I can’t stand you.” She eyed me suspiciously.
“That wasn’t always true, and it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. It means I won’t put up with your shit. You’re stuck with me until you pull yourself together.”
“I have a kid to get back to, Serge. I need to go back to my real life. When you all leave Friday, I’m staying behind.”
“So am I. I’m not leaving you alone.” I wanted to pull her to me, but I needed her to know I was in her corner, whether she liked it or not.
She jutted her chin in my direction. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have Wyatt.”
“He’s a child, Cee. You need adult supervision. It’ll be a while before you and Wyatt are living on your own.”
“I’m his mother.”