Cowgirl Up 2 (Sequel) ✔️

Chapter Twenty Nine

I am so, so, so, SO sorry for the wait guys!
Thank you all so much for being so patient but also prompting me with your pleas for an update.
I've had a truly tiring week not only physically but mentally and emotionally as well so I hope you guys haven't given up on me because it's taken me so long to manage this!
Please let me know what you think
💚PalominoDreamtime💚

Bailey

I snapped my eyes open, my heart pounding in my chest and my veins thrumming with adrenaline.
My sleep heavy eyes took in the dark silhouette of Blayze's bedroom, the one I'd once thought we shared.
Gentle rays of a silver Winter moon peeking through a gap in the drawn curtains and casting a beam across the centre of the room reminded me that I'd been asleep.
Breathing short, rapid breaths, I propped myself on my elbows, blinking my eyes quickly.
That was one messed up dream...
I could almost taste the bitter sting of resentment on my tongue.
Why was my subconscious putting this kind of shit in my head?
Have I not been tortured enough?
Why can't I just have happy dreams?
Drama of galloping Phoenix across the back fields of freshly cut and bailed hay, in the warm Spring sunshine.
That would be way better than an evil dream of Blayze cheating on me!
Sleep now seemed far away, so I tossed the blankets aside and crawled out of the large bed that I was once again alone in.
Maybe a drink would help me go back to sleep...
I could possibly have a warmed milk or warmed Milo or something...
That used to be my Grandma's trick for aiding me to feel sleepy.
I tiptoed across the carpet covered bedroom floor and opened the door, doing my best to be quiet so I didn't disturb Blayze or Heath.
The drones of the television immediately hit my ears, the picture from whatever show was on creating shadows around the open plan living area of the cottage.
Blayze is still awake?
Or did he fall asleep with the TV on?
I zeroed my gaze in on the lounge to discover that Blayze was indeed sitting up.
I'm pretty sure I've never seen him fall asleep sitting that upright...
And he leaned forward to set something onto the coffee table, informing me that he was either awake or performing tasks in his sleep, like sleepwalking but not.
"Why aren't you asleep?"
I asked, a frown marring my brow as I stepped towards the back of the lounge, my voice a little croaky from lack of use.
Blayze spun around, apparently forgetting that he had busted ribs and a puncture wound that had been stitched up just over a week ago.
That or he was still buzzed from the drinks he'd had earlier in the day in order to cope with the funeral and just didn't notice the pain he should've felt.
The glazed look in his deep-blue-green eyes informed me that indeed, he was intoxicated.
Did he keep drinking?
I'd found myself knackered after the day's events and the emotions surrounding it and showered and gone to bed not long after we'd returned home.
I was tired enough that I was even able to drown out Blayze and Heath talking and watching some crap on the TV where people were yelling, fighting and racing cars.
I couldn't remember much beyond Azlan and Zuke joining me on the large, soft mattress.
Then I'd had that god awful dream which had snapped me back into a restless version of consciousness.
"What are you doin' up?"
The too loud and too energised tone of his voice made me flinch.
He didn't shout, not by any stretch of the imagination.
But his demeanour was off.
It didn't make any sense.
I'd never seen him this way before.
His pupil's were large and his eyes seemed to focus too intently, yet looked as if he was looking through me at the same time, instead of focusing on me.
Any normal person would be asleep at this time, especially on a Monday night/Tuesday morning.
"Why... are you awake?"
I asked wearily, keeping my distance from the lounge as if he was a wild animal, not the Blayze I'd thought I knew.
"Can't sleep! Why are you up?"
He returned, his eyes seemingly struggling to focus on me.
Well at least he can apparently hold a conversation.
Oh yeah...
He asked that question first and I didn't answer, too busy asking my own question.
I looked past Blayze to see that at least six, possibly eight beer stubby's littered the coffee table, along with an open bag of Cheetos.
Zeus was laying on the floor beside the coffee table, intently eyeing off one of the round, cheesy goodness foam-like chips that was teetering right at the edge of the table, undecided if it was going to remain on the surface of the table or take a cliff dive into Zeus' waiting mouth.
The amount of alcohol Blayze has consumed today would hardly affect the normal him.
But since the accident, he's not been normal.
And the pain relief he's on says not to consume alcohol while taking the medicine.
Yet he'd ignored that as a means to cope with the daunting funeral experience.
Or was it for that?
Was he just using it as an excuse because he knows me and knows I've got a soft heart and was likely to believe him?
I'd seen him have at least a few beers with Heath since we'd been home from Mawson District.
Does he just not care about his own health?
What about me and our growing baby?
What about Tameron?
Does he suddenly not care about any of that?
"I... need a drink."
I muttered and turned to head for the kitchen, unable to enter into this with him right now.
"You can have one of mine!"
I turned around to look at him with complete incredulity.
Is he insane?
Of course I can't have alcohol!
And why would I have one at three o'clock in the morning or whatever it is anyway?!
"Umm no."
I deadpanned and spun back around to go to the kitchen.
There is something seriously wrong with this man that I thought I knew...
"Bails what's wrong?!"
I clenched my jaw to refrain from snapping a tired and emotional answer and crossed to the fridge to search for something to drink.
Milk?
Possibly.
Cordial?
Maybe but probably not ideal.
Iced Coffee?
No.
Coke?
No.
Juice?
Possible but again maybe not the best...
"What's wrong?"
I flinched at the sudden sound of Blayze's way too upbeat voice behind me.
Why does he appear to have so much energy?
Shouldn't he be knackered by now?
It's the middle of the night!
"I told you. I'm getting a drink."
I said on a sigh.
Now I remembered why drunk people frustrate me when I'm sober...
They can't seem to comprehend even the basics that you tell them.
I grabbed the milk and shut the fridge, turning to set the milk carton onto the bench while I fetched the rest of what I needed.
A warmed milky drink was probably the best option right now.
Hopefully it would trigger my sleepy side.
"Why are you up? You went to bed ages ago."
I glanced over at Blayze as I bent to retrieve a mug from the cups cupboard.
For a guy who lived here on his own up until a matter of months ago, he's surprisingly got enough cups and mugs to donate an entire kitchen cupboard to them.
"Woke up."
I muttered in answer to his repeated question.
He probably wasn't in a state to sympathetically comprehend a discussion about my dream.
Even I wasn't sure if I could be appropriately sympathetic.
As far as I was concerned my subconscious was just being an arsehole.
If I told Blayze about it now, he'd probably just laugh at me or tell me that my subconscious was being an idiot.
I believe him that he's not going to cheat on me.
But my stupid dream had still left me feeling rattled.
It all felt so real even though I knew without a doubt that it was a dream.
"You should come watch TV! Tokyo Drift is on at the moment. Heath started the marathon with me but he was a sook complaining he had to go to school a while ago."
Blayze explained, his voice still way too energised for my tired brain to deal with appropriately.
Shit!
School tomorrow!
All of a sudden, a wave of intense tiredness seemed to hit me.
I'd had the day off today/yesterday, whatever it now was, because of the funeral.
I couldn't afford to have tomorrow/today off as well though.
I wouldn't pass year twelve if I kept having days off.
I'd done enough of that through the start of the year and last week being in Mawson District, then needing a rest day when we'd come home.
"I think I'll pass. I too would like to get some sleep. You should as well."
I stated, my tone blunt and pointed as if I was telling my seven year old brother's to go to bed and I turned to place my mug of milk into the microwave.
Blayze waved a dismissive hand.
"I'll sleep when I'm dead."
Once upon a time, I'd have taken those words in the lighthearted way they were intended.
However, just over a week ago he'd almost died.
Currently he was sucking back painkillers like they were skittles and drinking alcohol on top of it, risking liver damage or worse.
Xalan did die.
His words might have been intended as light, but they hit far too close to home for my liking.
I wanted to snap at Blayze that his words were callous and inappropriate, stabbing at my heart.
But I knew that in his current state, he wasn't likely to grasp that factor.
It was unnerving seeing him so affected by alcohol.
In all the years I'd known him, I'd never seen it affect him the way it appeared to be doing now.
Even the night he'd been unusually super drunk and he'd kissed me right here in the cottage for the first time, he wasn't acting anywhere near this way.
Hot and fat emotional tears pricked at my eyes and I turned to watch the microwave, waiting for it to warm my mug of milk.
Thirty seconds to go.
I could already tell that it was going to be one of the longest half a minute's in the history of them, when Blayze started talking about something about cars which I barely understood and especially not at this stupid hour of the night.