A Need So Beautiful (18 page)

“Charlotte?” he yells. “What happened?” He takes me by the arms, helping me up. I collapse into him.

I won’t go with the Need. It can’t have me. I won’t let it! I grit my teeth and swallow down the pain. “Sarah,” I say. “She’s sick. We have to get her to Monroe.”

“Monroe?” he asks. “Charlotte, if something’s wrong with her, we should get her father and take her to a hospital. Not the clinic.”

“She’s drunk, Harlin. He’ll freak. Maybe even kick her out of her house.” I’m so worried about her and yet the Need is trying to take me away, take me back inside that party.

Harlin looks and sees Sarah curl up on the ground, dry heaving. He lets go of me and darts over to her, kneeling down next to her.

The minute he lets me go, I start wheezing. My body is demanding I go back into the museum, back into the dinner. There’s something there I have to see.

Harlin looks at me. “Are you having an attack?”

“I’ll be fine. I have an inhaler at the clinic.” No I don’t, but I’m hoping the farther away from the Need I get, the easier it’ll be to fight. I have to do it this time. I have to fight.

“Damn it, Charlotte!” he says. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having an attack? Stop keeping things from me!” He scoops Sarah into his arms. Her body hangs limply. “Let’s go,” Harlin orders without looking at me, making his way around the side of the museum instead of going through the kitchen.

I try to step away, but pain splinters in my head, calling me back. It’s like walking against a current. Harlin runs ahead, carrying Sarah to the town car. I try to move faster, but my bones feel like they might pull away from my body, just rip right out of me.

Just as I round the front, it’s too much. I fall into the cool, damp grass, but get to my knees and begin crawling. I’m losing focus, getting fuzzy. But I choose Sarah—I choose my life—over the Need.

Harlin’s out of my sight, somewhere in the parking lot, and for a second I consider going inside just to stop the pain. It might not take long and the idea of euphoria I get after makes me moan for it.

No. If I do that, if I continue to give in, it’ll destroy me. I have to stop it now. There’s still time to stop it.

Gripping the grass with my fingers, I pull myself forward. I’m close to the sidewalk now. Just a few more yards. My chest is tightening.

I hear the sound of feet and look up in time to see Harlin running in my direction. He came back for me. There’s a small relief to my pain as I feel his strong arms wrap around me, helping me to stand.

“You need to go to the hospital,” he murmurs. “Monroe’s not helping you. You look terrible.”

“Thanks, honey,” I choke out. He exhales in exasperation and he leads me toward the waiting car.

“I had to give the driver fifty bucks to not call Daddy Warbucks in there,” he says as he opens the door. “So remind Sarah that she owes me.” But I can hear in his voice that he’s worried. About both of us.

I nod absently as I get in. Sarah is sprawled across the seat and I move her legs to sit next to her. The pain is so strong that tears are streaming down my cheeks.

This is it. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know it hurts like hell. I close my eyes as we pull away, driving toward the clinic. The minute we’re off the property there is a pain in my shoulder, like I’ve just been burned with a hot poker. I wince and glance toward Harlin. He’s leaning over the seat, giving the driver directions.

I take the moment to slip the sleeve of my jacket over to find the source of pain. It’s on fire. At first I see only gold, more than ever covering the skin. But at the high point of my bone, I see something different and it terrifies me. Because in place of the gold there is a cracked, gray circle. And it looks like death.

Chapter 18

I
pull my sleeve back over the spot, my eyes wide and burning with tears. What’s happening to me? I try to take in a breath, but I can’t. Panicked, I look out the window to see the museum—and my Need—get farther and farther away. I gasp again.

The pain is overwhelming, but it’s the cracked flesh that’s scaring me. I feel my fingertips tingle, like there’s no circulation. The museum gets smaller in the distance as the first spots start to come across my vision. My face has gone numb; my lips feel cold. The world tilts.

“Charlotte.” Harlin moves to kneel on the carpeted floor of the car. “You’re turning blue!” I meet his eyes, not responding, not sure I can. I’m almost ready to welcome the dark when I feel him touch my hand.

And suddenly, a short breath enters my lungs. I just need Harlin. I lean forward and hug him, my face buried in his neck. He’s warm and still smells of cologne. I’m only getting air in short bursts, but it doesn’t matter. I cling to him.

“Monroe,” I whisper.

“No.” Harlin shakes his head, but doesn’t let me go. “We’re going to the hospital.”

I can still feel Harlin’s hand in my hair when the world around me fades away. Before I can make sense of the change . . .

I’m on the bridge again, rain pelting me. I know I’m supposed to climb on the metal railing but I take a few steps away from it. Suddenly, gold starts to glow around me and I look down to see my skin running off in flesh-colored streams of water. I clasp my hand over my forearm, trying to keep my skin on. But then I realize it’s just makeup washing away. And underneath, I’m only gold.

Harlin calls my name. My heart bursts in my chest when I see him running toward me, but I quickly cover my face. I can’t let him see me like this. I can’t let him see the gold.

I feel a tug and bring my hands down, but Harlin is gone. Instead it’s Monroe standing in front of me, yelling. But his words are silent. All I can hear is rain, loud enough to make me wince and want to cover my ears.

But over and over, he mouths,
Jump!

I push him back and move against the railing, grabbing it tightly. “No!” I look over the side to the dark, rough waters below. I’m terrified of falling.

Now!
he silently screams, but I shake my head. And then my heart stops.

Onika appears from behind Monroe. Her face is beautiful again, not cracked and decayed like that one vision. She’s not getting wet, even though it’s raining. She puts her hand on Monroe’s shoulder, but he doesn’t react. It’s like he doesn’t even know she’s there.

She smiles at me while in the distance sirens blare as flashing lights enter the on-ramp of the bridge.

Monroe’s talking quickly and his eyes are closed as Onika snakes her body around him, whispering in his ear in unison with his mouth moving. It’s as if she’s telling him what to say.

“Stop!” I scream. It’s freaking me out and I’m so scared. I don’t know what’s real anymore.

With nowhere to go, I climb onto the railing and grip the cables, trying to keep my balance. To get away from them. I glance back over my shoulder and look down again at the choppy water.

Then the scene freezes, the rain suspended in the air, making the world around me distorted. I find Monroe as he stands, now alone, with his eyes closed. I’m about to call to him, but then he slowly looks up at me and whispers, “Jump.”

“I think she’s coming around.”

There’s a jolt and I’m awake. I feel disoriented as I glance around at the familiar white walls decorated with posters about STDs. I’m at the clinic.

I close my eyes again. “So I’m not dead?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. Even though I know where I am now, I can still feel the rain against my skin. The wind swaying me on the bridge. The word “jump” is still in my ears.

“Hardly,” Monroe says. I’m startled by how close his voice is and I turn to see him sitting next to me in a chair. His eyes are narrowed as he looks me over. “You gave your boyfriend a good scare, though,” he says in a tight voice. “Had to give you a steroid to open up your lungs. Why do you think you had this severe an attack, Charlotte?”

“Stress.” I manage to sit up. Harlin is sitting on a stool in the corner, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his hands over his mouth. He looks terrified.

“Hey,” I call. He doesn’t answer, he just stares at me and blinks back tears. “What?” I ask, and suddenly, I’m scared that he saw my skin, that he knows I’m a freak.

He sniffles and rubs roughly at his face. “You passed out,” he says quietly. “And I couldn’t wake you up. I thought you were dying. I—” He stops and covers his mouth again. Monroe was right—I had scared the crap out of him.

“Come here,” I say, and pat the space next to me on the cot.

“Charlotte,” Monroe begins, but I look at him sharply. He raises his hands like he gives up and stands, backing away. I have plenty to talk to Monroe about, but Harlin comes first. He always comes first.

Harlin walks over, his eyes red and his beautiful face a little blotchy. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” he whispers. “You get worse every day.”

And my heart breaks. I fought the Need and it almost killed me, it
is
killing me. The more I slip away, the more I’ll hurt Harlin. I don’t want to hurt him, but I don’t think I can let him go.

I reach out my hand to him and he takes it, before sitting down next to me. He gathers me in his arms, and rests his cheek on the top of my head. I close my eyes, listening to his slow heartbeat. I relax.

Monroe leaves but I can feel him glaring as he does. When I hear the door shut, Harlin exhales. “Monroe is pissing me off,” he says quietly.

I prop myself up on my arms and look Harlin in the eyes. “Why?”

“Because he’s lying too.”

I swallow hard. “What do you mean?”

Harlin scoffs and shakes his head. “You’re both lying to me, Charlotte. How stupid do you think I am? I know what asthma is. And I know that you shouldn’t be having attacks every day and nearly dying. And when I ask him . . . he’s like you. He’s hiding something.”

His face hardens in anger. And I don’t know what I can tell him. I have to keep lying. “It’s asthma.”

“Shut up.” Harlin moves away, turning his back on me. “Don’t bother talking if you’re not going to tell me the truth.”

“Harlin.” He’s being harsh, and it’s making my chest feel raw, hurt. He doesn’t answer and I wrap myself around him from behind. I put my face against his warm neck.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Don’t leave me.”

Without a second’s hesitation, Harlin turns into me and cups my face with his hands. “I’m not leaving you, Charlotte,” he says. “I’m trying to keep you.”

His hands are rough on my face. I lean in and press my mouth to his, kissing him softly, the way he usually kisses me. But instead of responding the way I expect, he pushes me back down on the cot and kisses me hard. Desperately.

I suddenly wonder if it means something more. I wonder if he’s saying good-bye. But he continues to kiss me with an urgency I haven’t felt before. And when we’re out of breath, he buries his face in my hair and holds me tight to him.

“Wait,” I gasp, looking around the room. “Sarah?”

“She’s okay.”

“Where is she?” I try to remember the last time I saw her. She was lying on the seat of the town car, unconscious.

Harlin’s throat clicks as he swallows. “Monroe called Sarah’s father the minute he saw her. He said he couldn’t treat her without her dad’s consent.”

I gasp and pull away. “But he treats me all the time!”

“No offense, Charlotte,” Harlin says, “but Mercy doesn’t own half the city. Monroe has to cover himself.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

A booming voice echoes from the waiting room and Harlin and I exchange a glance. Sarah’s father is here.

“I have to go out there.” I climb off the cot but Harlin catches my arm.

“Maybe you shouldn’t. Let’s stay out of it.”

“No.” I pull away from him and start walking to the door when I feel the Need come back, slowing creeping inside my chest. But it’s changed somehow. Not as overwhelming, and almost . . . irritating. It puts me on edge.

Harlin follows as I make my way out into the lobby. Sarah’s parents are there, still in their formal wear. Her mother’s hair is red, but she doesn’t have the same spirit as her daughter. Maybe she did once, but now she’s not much more than a trophy wife with a Botoxed forehead and plastic boobs.

I pause at the thought, surprised at how cruel I sound. I’d never really disliked her before, but right now, I feel unexplainable hatred. I shake my head, trying to get rid of the feeling, but when we come into view, Sarah’s father turns. His dark eyes bore into me as they narrow.

“You,” he says, pointing. “What did you do to her?”

“Me?”

“You said she was in the bathroom. Where was she? What did you give her?”

“Why would I give her anything?” I’m confused by his accusation. “I had nothing to do with this!”

A look of disgust crosses his face. “I should have known better than to let her hang around with you. No good—”

But then Harlin is there, standing in front like he’s taking a bullet for me.

“I suggest you shut up. Charlotte is your daughter’s friend. Her only friend. I think maybe you owe her an apology.”

“I will do no such thing!” he yells.

“You’re such a prick,” Harlin says to him, and then turns away, putting his arm protectively around me.

My mouth twitches with a smile. My boyfriend is so eloquent. For a second, I wonder if Sarah’s dad is going to argue, but he doesn’t. Instead he storms over to the receptionist.

“I want her released
now
,” he says, pounding on the desk. “I’m taking her to a real hospital.”

Rhonda sucks at her teeth and types something into the computer as the door to the back opens. Monroe walks out, pushing Sarah in a wheelchair. “Don’t bother, Rhonda,” he says toward the front desk. “I’ve already taken care of it.”

Sarah looks terrible. Her mascara has run under her eyes and her hair is matted and tangled. Her lips are red and smudged. She glances up to meet my eyes and gives me a little shrug before she’s surrounded by her parents.

I listen to Monroe talk to them. He tells them that she has a mild case of alcohol poisoning but that he gave her charcoal to vomit it up. That she needs fluids and rest. Monroe finishes by putting a steady hand on her shoulder and telling them she’ll be okay, physically. He doesn’t know that her father has driven her to this. And that I didn’t stop her from drinking. I wish I had.