“I can’t,” she whispered.
“You can.” I put my arms around her, my hand not holding the pill bottle slid into her hair. “God, Thea…”
She sank against me, her tears hot on my bare skin. She let me hold her for a few moments and then stiffened in my arms and shook her head.
“No. No, I won’t do it. I won’t go back into that tomb.” She pushed me away and held out her hand again. “Give me the bottle, Jimmy.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Please,” she begged, her face crumpling. “Don’t do this to me.”
I hardened my heart against her pleas. The image of her convulsing, or falling to the ground, not breathing, eyes staring…
“It’s not up to you,” she said, reading my expression, her voice hardening too. “It’s my choice. Mine.”
“Thea…”
“You made such a huge deal about my choices and my consent and now you want to take it all back.”
“This isn’t consent.”
“Isn’t it? It’s my life. Give me the bottle, James.”
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hand over the poison and watch her swallow it down every morning until there were no mornings left.
Thea made a grab for it, but I snatched my hand away and blinked, momentarily confused as she grabbed her backpack at our feet instead.
“What are you
doing?” I said. “Wait…”
She raced for the door, and I followed two steps behind. She wrenched it open and looked back, her voice breaking my heart. “Goodbye, Jimmy. I still have New York-ing to do.”
Her hand whipped out suddenly. Again, I snatched the meds out of reach, but she’d gone for the towel on my waist instead, ripping it off and flinging it away.
“Fuck…”
I lunged as she slipped out and the heavy door clocked my elbow. Now pain piled on the rage and grief and terror. I slammed the door open with a ragged cry, but Thea was already halfway down the hallway and heading for the staircase. I’d never catch her. Wouldn’t make it past the front desk bare-assed naked if I tried.
“Fuck,” I raged and slammed the door shut, shaking the room. I hurled the bottle of Hazarin at the wall. It bounced off and rolled on the floor, whole and unfazed.
I yanked my clothes on, my shaking fingers tripping over buttons and tugging on boots that wouldn’t fucking cooperate. Adrenaline surged in my veins as I jabbed the elevator buttons. Thea had sixteen flights to take on foot. I could make it. I could catch her.
“Come on,” I seethed, jabbing the button again and again. Finally, it arrived and made an agonizingly slow journey down to the lobby. I spat another curse as it stopped on the tenth floor to let a guy on.
He took one look at my face and stepped back. “I’ll get the next one.”
In the lobby, my eyes darted around, begging for signs of Thea. I raced to the stairwell and threw open the door, hoping to hear her footsteps echoing down stairs. But for my shaking breaths, there was silence.
“Did a blond woman come past here?” I asked the guy at the front desk.
“I don’t know, sir,” he said, maddeningly calm. “Lots of people come past here.”
I ran out the front door, searching up and down the sidewalks, across the street. No sign of Thea.
Back into the lobby, I watched the elevators and the stairwell. Minutes ticked by. Elevators opened and people got off. None of them Thea.
She’s gone. You lost her. You failed. You don’t get to cry…