Chapter 55: Chapter 55

◇ KEL ◇

"Cazzo." The guy pushed himself off of my limp body. Miles practically ran away from the bed after cussing out loud, panting and clenching his fist repeatedly.

Holding my breath, I flinched at his odd behavior. His reaction wasn't quite what I expected when he took me to bed and kissed me hard till I could barely think straight. Now he wouldn't even look at me.  "What?" I held back a frown and stayed perfectly still on the thick covers.

The dimness hid most of his features as he sat on my bed. Miles stayed mum as he tried to get a grip on his emotions. For a moment, he remained hunched over on the edge of the covers.

"What's wrong?" I murmured. Shame warmed up my neck and face―not because every inch of my nudity was exposed, or that he wore nothing but a look of exasperation on his face.

What I found utterly embarrassing—mortifying—was the fact that I just let him have his way. I didn't even say no. Didn't even try to push him off. I just let him do whatever he wanted.  The mere thought appalled every fiber in my body. My common sense just dashed out the door after he kissed me.

Was it my fault?  I sighed to myself and cowered under the blanket, undeniably naked. We were both still so naked.

Jeez...

"Horny and desperate" wasn't enough to describe how I felt right now.

An awkward moment became a minute of unpleasant silence while we both tried to make sense of what the heck just happened. Was this what he did with all those girls?

Mindless one night stands? Faking intimacy with some girl he met just to get his mind off things?

Only difference was—he didn't have sex with me.  Neither did he try.

All he did was bite my neck and kiss me.  Over and over.  Like he...meant it.

With his back facing me, Miles sighed out loud and focused his gaze on the floor. "You okay?" He got up and hastily put on his underwear, his voice gruff and dull.  "Sorry." He grabbed his shirt and gently wiped the dampness off my arms, neck, and chest, leaving my skin dry and warm while my pulse thumped in my ears.

I shifted on the bed and looked away to stop staring at his physique. He always looked tall and lean. This time, though, the shadows made his muscles appear more pronounced.

Why was he asking if I was okay? Did he think I wasn't?

"I'm fine," I lied.  My voice sounded weak, and my heartbeat kept pacing faster than I could control.

Strangely, the pain in my neck no longer stang.  I held my breath and placed a finger on the marks he left.  I only felt sweat and a little pain under the skin.  It might look like a strange little bruise in the morning. Well, nothing a turtleneck or plain old makeup couldn't cover up.

"Sorry." Miles kissed me on the cheek and swiftly placed his shirt on my exposed chest.

Was he apologizing for breaking my phone? For his jealous outburst earlier? Or for what he just did to me in my own bed?

"Got you a new one. More secure line." Miles reached for his coat and took something out of the pocket. He helped me sit up before he handed me the new and "more secure" phone.  Then he put his pants on while deliberately avoiding my eyes.

Regretful? Probably ashamed, too, as much as I was.

In the dimness, I stared at the thin gadget on my palm. It looked as black as his clothes. Would he still allow me to use social media?

"It's a new number. Contact me when you need to." Miles eased himself next to me. His back rested against the wall, his eyes still avoiding me.

"Huh?" I put his shirt on. Much better if I didn't have to keep up a conversation with him in just my birthday suit. Darn it.

"Don't use your old phone," he sighed. Miles knocked the back of his head against the wall and massaged his temples.

"Okay." I bit on my lip. Was he having another bad headache? Because he was exhausted from traveling all the way here just to visit me? Spend time with me on my birthday?  "You shouldn't have come here."

"What?" Miles scoffed.

"I know you're busy. You could've just called me."

"You mean 'you're busy'. Gonna be too busy for me."

"Sorry." I held his hand. "We'll be in training again. Gotta work my butt off just to pass half of the tests."

"Sure you'll do fine," Miles muttered with a mild frown.  "Sorry. I hurt you."

"I'm okay."  I tried not to sound so worried this time. Curious as heck, though. I didn't even get to finish my shower but my muscles already felt a bit relaxed now, quite tender and free of any discomfort.  "How often?"

My short question made him sigh and scratch his forehead. I didn't need to say more to get my thoughts  across. "It's not...just another relapse."

"Never thought it was that simple."

"It's not like a maintenance thing," he explained with another frown.

I leaned closer and recalled his best friend's advice. "You're still on drugs?" This time, I could no longer hide the concern in my voice.  A persistent hunch just made me suspect Miles had been solely relying on unnatural methods for pain management.

His dark, dismal rehab days was no secret to his friends. I knew he'd learnt that a boring, sober life was way better than experiencing that kind of helplessness again, but his behavior lately told me enough about his current health.

His strained relationship with his parents and sudden career change might have triggered the relapse. Why they hadn't tried to chuck him into rehab again—I had a few ideas.

"I'm fine. Stop worrying." Miles rubbed his face with his palms.

Shit.  He was on drugs again,  and he thought it was all he could do to help manage his mental and emotional struggles.  The excuse remotely made some sense, but, of course it worried me more.

I watched him stay quiet.  While his rough jeans lightly scratched my bare thighs, I placed my legs on his lap just to be closer to him. At least in the physical sense.  "When's the last time?"

"Last week."

"With a dealer?"

"Tried to cut a deal with someone I met through Alessio. Didn't go well."

"Why?"

"Didn't like my terms."  Miles palmed my knee and shrugged half-heartedly.  "Just a lot going on right now. Couldn't think straight. Had to numb it somehow."

"What exactly did you take?"

"I don't remember."

"Babe..." I sighed. "Stop lying."

"Tried bumping up with Vicodin. Then Adderall." He chuckled. "Worked like a charm."

Holy sh—   Did he just say Vicodin, Adderall, and freakin' cocaine?  So whenever he couldn't deal with stress on his own, he'd been relying on a concoction of full-strength painkillers, sedatives, and hard drugs?

"That's ten times more dangerous."  I scoffed.  "Is your doctor trying to put you in a coma?"

"It's the job. Okay?" Miles sighed louder.  "It's fuckin' exhausting."

"Look. I get it.  But, cocaine? Again? Seriously, Miles."

"Don't even get me started on the obnoxious board meetings, or the big shot investors with poles up their asses." He massaged his forehead again, seeming totally worn-out.

"Didn't tell me it was that brutal." I crossed my arms over my chest but acknowledged his frustrations. I had been meaning to ask how he was handling his new job.

But since he'd been ignoring my texts and calls "for security reasons", we hadn't had the chance to start this talk. Alone in my bed after a lengthy makeout session, much less.

"You wanna quit working for the company?"

"I can't."

He couldn't? Because his father made him sign a contract?  "Can I ask why?"

"No,"  Miles said without a pinch of hesitation. "You don't wanna know."

I stroked his arm, trying to coax him somewhat. "But I do."

"You can't."

"Ugh. I'm really gettin' tired of you keeping secrets."

"Fine."  Miles got up from the bed and rubbed his jaw, still shirtless, his tone grim with annoyance. He grunted loudly, as if losing his cool.

"I just... I just want you to talk to me."

"You know why I sleep with those girls?" He scowled at me and carelessly combed his wavy hair with his fingers.  "They're easy.  Simple. Only want one thing in return:  sex, money, or both. And they're not hard to find. For me at least."

Darn. Okay. So he was seeing other girls but couldn't even spare me a quick call to ask how I was doing, to talk to me about his day, or tell me about his problems.

His outright confession surprised and hurt me, but I said nothing in reply. Frankly, I just wanted to hear his reasons...long overdue explanations I deserved.

"I know they told you some things. Not just Mamma. Cloe, too. They think I should've asked you to stay, help me deal with all of it, or whatever. But I never said anything, 'cause, honestly? You want a different life and I'm not your responsibility."

Ouch. Not my responsibility.  He was not my responsibility.

That sounded a lot worse than I initially thought.  It actually hurt.  Like he just stabbed me in the chest with a heavy, blunt knife reminiscent of disappointments and unmet expectations.

Alright, then.  Clearly, what he meant to say was that I was no longer needed in his life. He just tried to make it sound less harsh.

"Shit." Miles turned away from me and shook his head weakly. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Okay," was all I muttered.

"Sorry." He glanced at me. When he saw my eyes brimming with tears again, he apologized once more while I kept an argument to myself. Nothing I would say would convince him, anyway.  "Your dad would be proud...that you're graduating soon."

Proud?  What?  Why was he all of a sudden bringing my dad into the conversation?

"Gotta go. The guards are waiting outside." Miles stepped away and zipped up his jacket, his tone cold and emotionless. He was beside the door in seconds.  "Thanks. For letting me meet them. They'll stay safe. Two guys will be on shifts daily."

"No—  Wait."

"Happy birthday." Without sparing me one last look, he walked out the door and left me on the bed.

I just gawked at the ceiling, half-naked and more emotionally wrecked than ever.

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