Midnight Toxicity

43.

The smell of oranges lingered in the air when I opened my eyes a few hours later.

Sunlight crept into the room like it was sneaking past curfew, slow and steady, with dust floating in the air. Chace never came back. His mattress across the room stayed untouched. This might be the first time he stayed away from our bedroom.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and pretended I wasn't staring at it like it owed me an explanation.

Like he owed me one.

A soft knock came before the door cracked open.

"Hey, Charlie-girl," Emily murmured in that singsong voice she used when she was trying to sound casual. "Time to check your bandages again."

She nudged the door with her hip, arms full of gauze and disinfectants. Emily's blonde hair was styled in a messy bun, the kind that nurses on TV never seemed to pull off realistically, but she made chaos look sweet.

"Where's your partner?" She asked, setting supplies on my bed. "Chace didn't do his usual brooding-guard-dog routine this morning."

I shrugged. "Maybe he overslept."

Emily snorted. "That boy? He didn't sleep at all. His bed looks like a hotel display."

I froze. "Stop worrying about him and help me."

Emily's eyes narrowed just a breath. "Did you wake up cranky? You need to rest more."

"I do," I nervously laughed, trying to change the subject. "Thanks a lot, Emily. Really. You are my favorite roommate right now."

"Arms," she said softly, tapping my knee. "I'm here for whatever you need, Charlize."

I lifted them. She unwound the old bandage with practiced hands, gentle but clinical. As if she were seeing everything and judging none of it. Gritting my teeth, I kept my pain inside. I swallowed it as if it were the medicine I hated.

"So..." she murmured, cleaning the edges of the wound, "Chace leaves the room in the middle of the night, doesn't come back, and you look like you lost a fight with your pillow. Must've been an interesting evening."

I pulled a face. "Emily!"

"What? I'm just observing." She smirked. "You're flushed. He's missing. You're both terrible liars."

I didn't answer. Couldn't. My throat had sealed itself shut, locking in the truth like a prisoner scratching at the walls. Why did I care where Chace spent the night after giving him the best sex of his life? He should have spent the evening with his face between my thighs after the shitstorm that was Colton.

Emily softened up. "I'm teasing you. Mostly."

She taped the clean bandage down, smoothing the edges with warm fingers. "But seriously... if he upset you, tell me."

"He didn't." And as awful as it sounded, that was the problem. I wanted more of Chace than I should have. "We both have lives. I'm not worried."

Emily paused, studying me like she was reading a medical chart with emotional vitals. Then her expression flickered, a shadow passing behind her eyes. The girl had been through a lot of violence and could probably relate to some of my trauma.

"You ever wonder," she asked quietly, "why Mrs. Bitters and her niece are always glued to Gary, and Mr. Golding like barnacles on a sinking ship?"

My head snapped up. That wasn't cray cray all day Emily talk. That was Emily-knows-more-than-she-should talk.

"I thought they were just... friends of the family," I said carefully. "Cooking and cleaning hired help."

She sat back on her heels, lowering her voice even though we were alone. "Mrs. Bitters has been around since Mr. Golding was Andy, long before he had an eye on Tucker City. Long before Marie became his coveted notary or Gary, his shield. The niece? She's not actually her niece."