Revive (Book Two)

Chapter Four: Pieces

Chapter Four: Pieces

My hand resting on my chest, I felt the faint beat of my heart, slowly starting to fade but working hard to keep me going. I slowly opened my eyes, in and out of a daze, confused by the darkness in the sky aside from the starry night to keep me company. Maybe I was dreaming. My ankles lifted in the air as my back dragged along the gravel. I mustered up the strength to look forward, glancing past my blood soaked hand. My skin felt mud, grass, and leaves as I was shoved into a pit. My body tumbled, limp and too tired to even fight the pain. The rough landing earned a grunt from my throat and a pounding throb in my head. I was fading.

I glanced up once more and met his bloody, cut up face. I tried to open my mouth to speak but I couldn't move. His piercing stare, sinister.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?" He spoke with fatigue.

I only eyed him as he soaked up the scenery of the dooey night. His arms were red and his shirt was crimson drenched. He was mobile, and in much better shape than I wished.

He glanced back at me. "Don't worry, Ex. We will be meeting again, very soon."

With the faint sirens, he gave one last smile before lifting his fist and smashing it into my face. One final blow, and I was a burnt out star.

To say I was on edge was an understatement.

It'd only been a few days since she told me of her stupid plan but I was running thin on time. Everyday, I've been begging her to change her mind but of course, that was out of the question. I had thoughts of kidnapping her and just putting her on a plane, but the girl was a boomerang and would only come back; angry. If I didn't act now, it'd be any day that she'd end up severely hurt and I'd end up severely dead.

Fucking Aria.

I sighed as my high was coming down. I was running low on supply but it wasn't going to be a problem for long.

The main reason for my actions in the past were specifically so she didn't end up getting involved with Nash. And what does she do? Purposely gets involved with Nash.

Fucking Fuck, fuck. She was killing me.

I reached under my bed and snatched my phone that I dropped under there a couple of hours ago. Aria never changed her phone password, therefore I was able to easily go through it while she was distracted on her tangent of screaming at me for yet another fuck up I've done and take notes on certain contact information.

I was mad at her.

Dialing the number I obtained, I stuck a smoke in my mouth and began pacing around the house.

Fucking hell, I look tired, I thought to myself as I caught a glimpse of myself passing a mirror. Maybe I was just withdrawing and the endless streams of paranoia and PTSD in my head were wearing me down.

"Ah, and he arises from the dead! So how are you?" Miles' chipper personality soaked the phone.

"What?" I asked a little harder than I intended. I looked down to see my shaking hands and instantly felt bummed out that my skull and bullet tattoo on my hand had a white, risen scar running through it.

"I heard you were in a pretty intense accident. I suppose that's karma for breaking my sister's heart, yeah?" Miles had a passive aggressive tone to him but I was expecting him to screen my call.

"Wait," I said aloud. "How did you know it was me calling you?"

"What do you need, bud?" He asked, dismissing my inquiry.