Rebel Hearts
“Because you love me,” I finally whisper.
He nods, and his eyes begin to shine. “I do. But it’s more than that.” He stares down at me for a long moment, while my heart continues to pound. “I guess deep down I didn’t feel worthy, you know. It was fine for my shit to come second because I was just some ghetto runt who didn’t deserve you.”
“Danny, I never—”
“But that girl from your school deserves justice,” he pushes on, words slurring worse than they were before. “She deserves the best of you and you’re giving her shit. It’s more than selfishness, Sam. It’s criminal. Is that you want to be? A criminal?”
A hysterical laugh burbles up from somewhere inside me. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Right, right,” he drawls, eyes sliding closed as he swallows hard. “You know everything. You always know…”
He turns and lurches toward the bed, barely making it to the edge of the mattress before he collapses back onto the rumpled sheets.
“Sam always knows,” he mutters to the ceiling as his eyes drift close. “And I know…shit.”
I wait, watching his body for some sign of life. A few seconds later, he pulls in a breath that emerges as a soft snore.
He’s passed out. It’s over…for now.
My knees collapse. I slide down the wall to sit on the carpet, my thoughts racing. Danny’s words hurt, but he’s right.
What I’m doing is criminal. I can’t drag him down with me, and that’s what will happen if I stay. He might wake up tomorrow, regret drinking too much, and apologize for the things he said. We might find our footing and be okay for a while, but it will only be a matter of time before we stumble and fall again. Danny’s always been my rock, but apparently he’s only able to be that rock when he’s with someone worthy of his fierce devotion. I’ve tumbled off my pedestal and what used to work for us doesn’t anymore.
I never asked to be put on a pedestal—God knows I’m not perfect—but for Danny, I will try to climb back up there. I can’t destroy anyone else, especially not the person I love most in the world. I wouldn’t have gone back to L.A. for Deidre’s family or Alec. I wouldn’t have sat in that courtroom to maintain ties with my parents, salvage what’s left of my old life, or try to bring a scrap of justice to an unjust world. I don’t believe in justice anymore, but I believe in Danny.
So there’s only one choice I can make.
I gather my things, write Danny the hardest letter I’ve ever written, and all too soon I’m ready to go. I stand at the foot of the bed for a few minutes, watching him sleep, memorizing the way the light from the bathroom plays across his handsome face and his big hands look childlike curled in sleep.
Finally, I lean down and kiss his forehead softly.
“I love you,” I whisper, my heart feeling like it’s crumbling to ash inside my chest. “I’m sorry.”
I don’t know what I’m apologizing for exactly—dragging him thousands of miles from home only to leave him, or the selfish thirteen year old I was that year I complained about my own problems while his entire world was turned upside down—I only know that I wish so much that things could be different. I wish I could spare him the pain that’s coming, but that pain is the only thing that can convince him I’m still the girl he loves.
Maybe, after it’s all over, we’ll be able to find our way back to each other, but as I cross the room and let myself out into the sharp winter air, I can’t help feeling like this is the last time I’ll ever see Danny Cooney.
The feeling is enough to chill me to the bone long before the rain begins to fall, turning the road to a slick black ribbon as I drive toward Auckland.
Chapter Seventeen
Danny
“I am ashes where once
I was fire.”
-Lord Byron
* * *
I wake up in the prison of my rancid body and roll over, lying on my side as the room spins. I have time to scan the room and see that I’m alone, the fire is out, and there’s a wine stain on the wall and a broken bottle on the carpet before my stomach heaves.
I barely make it to the bathroom and I’m in there for a good thirty minutes, being so violently ill it’s like my digestive system is trying to turn itself inside out. But never in that time do I make any suffering noises. I hold it all in.
I don’t deserve even the small relief of moaning and groaning as I lose my soul into the toilet bowl.
I don’t remember exactly what I said to Sam, but I remember fighting and her looking up at me with tears in her eyes. I remember trying so hard to reach her and failing and getting so frustrated I wanted to hit something. I remember my fingers on her wrist, and feeling like a monster when she pulled away and the skin above her hand was bright red.