Hinder • {Bill Skarsgård}

|| lChapter Nineteen||

Sitting in the bathtub with water up to her chin, Ella idly moved the bubbles. She was still drunk; still wasted. She had thrown up several times in the last eight hours, unable to keep anything down. She reeked of vomit and whiskey; chunks of brown phlegm with black speckles imbedded in her hair.

She had brushed her teeth each time she threw up, trying to rid the foul taste to no avail. She was killing herself, knowing the black specks in her vomit were fragments of blood; the alcohol eating the lining of her stomach. She didn't care though, death was welcomed at this point. Death was the only way out this mess without a confrontation—without a blowout.

She was beginning to crash though; regurgitating the alcohol before it had time to do it's magic at numbing her troubled mind. She was sobering up against her own will—her body rejecting yet another thing she wanted.

The doorbell rang. It was persistent. Someone (Shay, Ella was sure) was repeatedly tapping the button over and over before the set of bells had time to finish their ding. It was annoying.

Ella groaned, stepping out of the tub. A dark pile of puke rested in front of the toilet. She stepped over it, grimacing in disgust as the doorbell continued to frantically echo throughout the house.

"I'm coming!" Ella screamed, wishing she hadn't by the sharp twinge it left in her throat. The repeated, annoying, ringing kept on as she slipped into her robe, rushing to get to the door to stop the nonsensical sound.

It didn't stop. Not even when she slipped on the third step up from the landing. Her butt caught her tumble, knowing the bottom of her forearms were going to be bruised come morning from trying to ease the fall on her ass.

She licked her lips; her mouth feeling like cotton as she stomped toward the door to stop the incessant doorbell pusher.

She was going to kill Shay.

She whipped open the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Bill leaning into the frame; his finger still on the doorbell. His head raised from its downturned position, looking to Ella with large eyes. His mouth was parted slightly with raised brows, as if surprised she had opened the door at all.

Ella pulled the ends of her robe tightly together, staring at Bill bewildered. She had not expected him to be standing there—she had expected it to be Shay, coming back for round two.

"What are you doing here?" Ella spoke barely above a whisper.

Bill pushed off the frame; placing his hands in his pant pockets. "We need to talk."

"You had your chance to talk last night. You spoke and that's that." Ella flashed a smug frown, one that caused her brow to raise as she started to close the door.

Bill's hand came between the door and the frame; using his own hand as a barrier to block Ella from shutting the door. She thought about just slamming it, knowing he'd pull away for that—or break his fingers. But she couldn't find it within herself to be that spiteful.

"I'm sorry." Bill said, this time using his foot as a barrier. "I said a lot of shit last night and I'm sorry."

She held his gaze for a moment, noticing his eyes darting along her face to see if she accepted his apology. He had nothing to apologize for, everything he had said was true.

"Fine... Now go." Ella started to close the door again, only to have Bill brace it to stay open.

"Please, Ella... we have to talk about this."

Ella let go of the door, taking a step back. She kept her eyes on him as he entered the house, her expression filled with worry and confusion. He had demanded she stay as far away from him as she could and yet, here he was—he had come to her.