Savage Me

Chapter 36: Lost On You

I woke up in Madeline's bed.

Reaching for my vibrating phone under the pillow, I opened one eye to see who was the caller. I closed my eyes and let out a deep breath.

It was Oz.

"Hey," I answered.

"I'm an hour away. Text me your dorm address."

"You drove all night?" I asked, sitting up as I rubbed my eyes.

"Yeah, and I'm tired as fuck," he grumbled. "Alfie can leave his truck in Rutgers for all I care, he's driving my car home 'cause I'm about to pass out."

My eyes traveled to the 6'2" lump on my bed across the room. He was sleeping soundly, with a little frown on his face. I hoped he was able to sleep without any shitty nightmares. That seemed to be the only way for him to escape his reality.

"How is he?"

Events from last night came crashing back to me. I ran a hand down my face, and sighed. Even if he tried his best to hide it, Alfie had huge abandonment issues. I'd seen him lose his shit before, but not like this. Never like this.

It was as if he finally gave up on life.

"Still alive," I told Oz. "Barely."

"Did he get into a fight?"

"No, he..."

I closed my eyes, but it was a really bad move because all I could see now was Alfie spreading his arms as he stood on the railing of a bridge, balancing himself with a bottle of Jack in hand. My eyes shot open, feeling the sting of warning that tears were about to come. I bit my bottom lip and tried not to sob.

"Just get here," I said quietly.

Oz probably heard the defeat in my voice, because his tone hardened.

"I'm almost there."

I drew in a shaky breath, as I hung up and texted him the address to my dorm building. I sniffed, wiping my tears that escaped with the sleeve of my sweater. Alfie's drunk ass almost fucking slipped. He almost fell off the...

If I didn't get there on time, he would've...

I almost lost him...

"Con?" called a groggy voice.

I didn't answer. I just watched my best friend sit up and stretch his arms. He scratched his head as he tried to get his bearings, looking around the room. Finally, he saw me staring at him and noticed my tear-streaked face, which caused his eyes to widen in concern.

"Why the fuck are you crying?"

My blood boiled. Glaring, I grabbed hold of the nearest thing to me, which was a pillow (much to his luck), and chucked it at him. It was about to hit him on the face, but he was able to catch it. Damn him and his athletic reflexes.

I snapped. "You almost jumped off a fucking bridge, you asshole!"

He blinked in surprise. "I did?"

I could practically see the memories of last night coming back to him, because then his expression turned sad as he looked away.

"I did."

I stared at him, trying to understand where all this was coming from. "What's going on, Alf?" I pleaded. He couldn't go on like this. "Talk to me."

He rubbed his face hard, before letting out a low laugh. "It's fucking petty, when I think about it."

"Tell me, anyway."