Chapter Five

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Gracie ~

As my Uber rolled to a stop, I offered to pay the guy extra if he promised not to leave me there. The sight of the cash in my hand was incentive enough for the young driver to get comfortable and wait for me to try and convince Colt to get in the vehicle.

My eyes instantly found Colt, who was pacing back and forth in front of the strip club like a pouting toddler throwing a fit that he didn't get his way. His smaller stature made his public outbursts almost comical as he attempted to pick fights with anyone who gave him a second look. I rolled my eyes at the familiar sight and wrapped my arms tightly around my body for warmth as I jogged across the parking lot toward him.

"What the fuck are you doing here Gracie?" He hissed at me.

Such a romantic greeting.

"I'm here to take you home Colt." I said flatly anticipating the angry uproar that was about to explode from Colt.

"Fuck that. I'm not going anywhere. Not until this asshole comes out and faces me like a man." Colt said, pacing back and forth in front of the doors with the bouncers watching his every move.

"How much has he had to drink?" I asked Lee over my shoulder.

"Not more than usual, don't be a buzz kill Gracie, he's just a little worked up."

A little worked up? He's completely belligerent and can barely stand.

Colt took heavy uncoordinated steps as he paced back and forth, stumbling about every third step he took as if the world had tilted a little too far to one side and he was trying to adjust his stance.

Seeing Colt that drunk pulled at my heart as if I were looking at a mirror image of my own father. He would come home just as drunk and just as angry, destroying anything in his path and I had somehow found his clone. Freud would have a lot to say about  my choices and while I understood the psychology behind my actions, understanding emotions and controlling them were two totally different things. I knew that my efforts to try and save what was left of Colt was really me trying to save my late father, but I couldn't stop myself. I couldn't stop the feeling that I needed to intervene, that I needed to save him or no one else would, wishing that someone had done the same for my own flesh and blood.

"Colt, let me take you home, please?" I decided to ask nicely first, just to see if I could coax him into the car. Sometimes that tactic worked for me, but most of the time it didn't.

"Fuck you Gracie." he slurred, glaring at me as if I were his enemy.

Those hateful words used to completely unhinge me, but I was so used to his drunken viciousness that his venom barely fazed me.

Dropping my shoulders, I let out a deep sigh and took a few cautious steps toward him, treating him like a wild animal that could lash out and bite me without cause.

"Look at me Colt. Please let me take you home. It's so late and the guy you're waiting for is obviously too scared to come out."  I tried to lie and stroke his ego a bit in order to break down the drunken wall of hatred he'd put up between us.

"Damn right he is." Colt said, standing up a little straighter.

"Haven't you had enough for one night? Aren't you tired? Let me take you home Colt...please?"

Colt narrowed his eyes at me, studying me for a second or two before he let the air leave his lungs, allowing his shoulders to slump slightly. He stumbled over toward me with a little less hatred in his eyes than before and I knew he was turning the corner, entering the second stage of his drunken routine - guilt.

Once he reached me, I braced myself for anything, but relaxed slightly when he dropped his forehead onto my shoulder in defeat.

"I'm sorry Gracie." he slurred next to my ear.

I didn't respond, because it wasn't okay and I wouldn't dare tell him it was, but this was the forward momentum I needed in order to get him in the car and back to his apartment.

"Let's get you home, okay?" I said, as I shifted my shoulder so he'd raise his head.

All I got was a nod in return, but that was enough of a signal for me. I lowered myself under one of his arms, letting him lean on me as we made our way back to the Uber that was still patiently waiting.

His apartment was filthy, but it was quiet as I helped him to his room, letting him flop into his bed. This was a routine I knew all too well and I started to go through the habitual motions. I unlaced his shoes and slid them off, placing them in his closet, but decided to let him sleep in his clothes, tucking him in the comforter, but rolling him on his side and propping a pillow against his back so he'd stay that way. My next task was to grab a cold bottle of water from the fridge and a protein bar to leave on the nightstand when he woke up feeling like shit the next day.

By the time I was finished with our toxic routine, I thought he had already passed out, based on his slow deep breaths, but as soon as I turned to leave, his hand caught mine and held it firmly.

Dammit.

"I'm sorry Gracie." He mumbled incoherently into his pillow as he clutched my hand.

"I'm so fucked up in the head Grace." he added without opening his eyes.

This was the part I hated most. The guilt, the apologies. It would be easy to leave him if he were hateful all the time, but deep down beneath all that hatred was the sad, scared sixteen year old boy who clung to me for comfort after his mother died.

We had both lost a parent in the same year and used each other as an escape - as emotional crutches to help get one another through the hardships of high school. We were kids who were devastated and grieving, but where I turned to therapy and friendships, Colt turned to substances, pushing everyone away - and here we are.

I gave his hand a squeeze and looked down at him with emotions that I couldn't decipher. This part of his drunken cycle usually had me in tears, usually had me crawling into bed with him, clinging to the sweet apologetic side of his persona, until he pushed me away in the morning, but tonight was different.

It was like the ring that he had placed on my finger had given me the sudden clarity I needed to finally understand and accept that Colt's healing couldn't come from me. I couldn't be the one to save Colt, he was going to have to do that himself and the longer I stayed with him the more of an enabler I was starting to become.

I loved you once Colt...but I can't love you anymore, and I certainly can't marry you.

I deserve better.

*****

An hour later I had finally made my way home, but opened to the door to find the apartment complete empty. Walking to each bedroom I double checked for any signs of Amanda, Maggie or Laura, but they must have still been at Chad's.

Holy crap it's almost 4:00am. They must have decided to stay the night there.

I let my tired legs carry me to my room as I peeled off my shoes and changed into shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Running my hands over my plush comforter, I pulled the corner back and crawled inside, loving the way the soft sheets felt against my tired feet. The white comforter wrapped around me on all sides and I settled down into the fluff, letting my body relax for the first time all day with a hard sigh.

My eyes hadn't closed for more than one second before I heard my phone start to buzz on the night stand.

"Nooo." I groaned, as I untucked myself from the comfy position I had just found.

"Mags, you're killing me Sis." I answered in a groggy voice that adequately conveyed how exhausted I was.

"Hey Gracie, It's Chad."

Chad? Why was Chad calling me from Maggie's phone?

The sound of his voice perked my ears, causing me to sit up immediately as if my sudden upright position would help me hear him better.

"Hey Chad. Is everything okay?" I asked, running a hand through my long hair. 

"Yes and No." He answered, but there was a little humor in his voice which was slightly reassuring.

"Maggie, Laura and Amanda got completely trashed, I mean hammered." Chad started.

Okay, what else is new?

"And?" I asked, urging him to get to the point.

"Well I've got Mag here in my bathroom, and Laura is passed out on the pullout couch, but Amanda is in pretty bad shape. She's been puking in the guest bathroom and has been asking for you."

A half laugh-half sigh escaped my lips and I shook my head at my roommates antics.

"I'll be there in a few." I relented, chuckling to myself as I tried to picture what I was going to walk in on once I got there.

"Thanks Gracie, you're the best. Oh and hey, how did things go with Colt?"

I rubbed the back of my neck at Chad's question as if the mention of Colts name had suddenly tightened and knotted my muscles.

"Fine, I got him back to his apartment. He's passed out." I said flatly.

"So you didn't have to fight anyone?" Chad joked.

"Not tonight." I said with a smile.

My legs protested as I flung them over the side of the bed and stretched lazily with a yawn that made my ears pop. I was physically and emotionally exhausted, but I wasn't about to leave my best friend on the bathroom floor of a dudes house all night.

I grabbed a change of clothes for Laura and Amanda from their rooms, tucking them into a duffle bag as I snatched my keys from the bowl on the kitchen table. My heavy eyelids fought against me, but I blinked myself awake before I stuck the key in the ignition. The clock on the dash illuminated brightly as if it were trying to get my attention to let me know exactly how long I'd gone without sleep.

Jeez its 4:30am.

"You're lucky I love you so much Amanda." I chuckled to myself as I put the car in reverse and drove back to Chad's.

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