Four Walls (Book One) ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jose holds me to his chest as I bawl, wine still pumping through my veins. I feel so out of control, yet too intoxicated to do anything about it. My head aches. My chest aches. I just want to sleep.

"Shh, it's okay. I've got you," he says softly. "You're safe with me."

"I'm... I'm sorry. We were having so much fun, and I ruined it. I ruin everything!"

"No, you don't." His tone is firm. "Listen to me, Layla. You are smart and kind and a joy to be around, even when you're drunk off three sips of wine and crying like a newborn baby. I don't know what's going on inside your house, but I will always, always be there for you, okay?"

I nod my head and wrap my arms around his neck, clinging to him like a frightened child clings to their mother.

In a way, I guess I am a frightened child. I'm only sixteen, after all, and I live every day in fear that Hank will go berserk and kill me. He's come close before. He hasn't laid a hand on me for a while, but that somehow makes me even more paranoid. I feel like a storm is brewing, like something horrible is in store for me.

"I love you, Layla." Jose takes a towel and drapes it over my shoulders. "I hope one of these days, you'll tell me what's really going on with you."

"I love you, too," I mumble, allowing my eyes to close and sleep to take over.

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"Layla! Layla, wake up!"

I sit up too quickly. My head is throbbing. The world around me is spinning.

I see Jose's familiar face and smile. His cocoa-colored eyes meet mine, and he smiles, too.

"Hi," I whisper.

"Hey, pretty girl." He kisses my forehead. "How are you feeling?"

I look around and realize I'm in the backseat of Jose's car. I'm adorned in nothing but my bra and panties, a towel draped over me for coverage.

Suddenly, it all comes back to me: the pool, the wine, the uncontrollable sobbing. I shake my head and bury my face in my hands.

"Hey, it's okay," Jose says, as if reading my mind. "You fell asleep, and I didn't know what else to do, so... so I brought you to Damian's."

My eyes widen. "You did?"

He shrugs his tan shoulders. "He might not be my favorite person, but he's your best friend. I figured if anyone could help you right now, it was him."

As if on cue, Damian materializes behind Jose. He shoves past him and removes me from the car, cradling me in his arms like an infant.

"I can't believe you got her drunk," Damian reprimands him. "What were you thinking? She could have gotten hurt."

"I was thinking I wanted to give my girlfriend a special birthday," Jose retorts.

"Oh, it was special, alright." Damian shakes his head like a disappointed parent. "You know, Jose, as her boyfriend, you're supposed to take care of her. You're supposed to keep her safe."

"She was safe!" Jose spits back. "I'm sorry she got wasted. I wasn't anticipating that. I made sure she got home in one piece, though, and I brought her to you, which, believe me, I wasn't happy about."

"Guys, can you please calm your rampant testosterone? My brain literally feels like it's on fire." To prove a point, I massage my throbbing temples. Is this a hangover? If so, I'm never, ever drinking again.

"Let me get you inside," Damian says.

"Wait, put me down!" I exclaim, shimmying out of my best friend's arms. I stumble toward Jose and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

"Are you okay?" he murmurs.

"I will be, thanks to you." I place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I love you. Thanks for making me feel like a real-life princess today. You're remarkable, you know that?"

His cheeks turn scarlet. "I love you, too. Call me tomorrow morning, okay?"

Damian pulls me away before I can say anything else. He leads me up to his bedroom, tosses me one of his t-shirts, and orders me to put it on.

"Why are you so mad?" I ask, sliding the large shirt over my still damp bra.

"I'm not mad, Layla. When Jose called me, I was worried. I thought something had happened to you."

"I got drunk, Damian. That's it."

"Well, I didn't know that. All I wanted to do was teleport to wherever you were and come to your rescue, but I couldn't. Jose insisted on driving you here, and he doesn't know about my... advantages. I felt so helpless."

I scoot closer to Damian and rest my head on his shoulder. "You're not my knight in shining armor. It's not your job to save me."

"Someone sure as hell has to!" he shouts. "Look, I know I don't talk about it much, but ever since I found about your dad, I've been a mess. I worry about you all the time."

"And that's why I didn't want to tell you," I respond with a not-so-subtle roll of my eyes. "I didn't want you to worry.

"You're my best friend, Layla. If I lost you...." He trails off, as if the second half of his sentence is too painful to say aloud.

"Damian, hey, look at me." I touch his cheek, forcing him to meet my gaze. "I'm going to be fine, okay? Hank is a menace to society, but I have the most wonderful friends and allies in my corner. I'm blessed to have so many people who care about me and my well-being."

His blue eyes glisten with tears. "He hits you, Layla. I'm sorry, but that can't be okay."

"I know that. I'm just... choosing not to dwell on it."

He nods his head. "You're right. I'm sorry." His lips creep into a smile. "Wow, it's your birthday, and I'm making it all about me."

"It's my party.... You can cry if you want to?"

"I don't want either of us to cry."

"Well, I already did a lot of that this evening." I think back to my hysterics at the pool and cringe. "Jose planned the most magical day for me, and I got wasted and ruined it. He must be so mad."

"He didn't seem mad," Damian recalls. "Either way, he loves you. I think he's just worried."

"I told him way too much. I'm never getting drunk again, that's for sure," I promise myself. If the teeniest bit of wine turns me into a blubbering over-sharer, I can't drink. I can't risk my intoxicated alter ego spilling any more of my secrets.

Plus, my father is an alcoholic. I need to be wary of that.

"You should get to bed." Damian taps his pillow, gesturing for me to lay my head down. "I'll take the floor."

I nod my head, my eyes still bleary with sleep. I allow him to tuck me in under his dark blue sheets. I feel his lips against my forehead as he whispers goodnight.

"Night, Damian," I respond, already halfway to dreamland.

A/N:
Who do you think was in the right? Damian or Jose? Let me know in the comments!