Sunshine (28 page)

At some point, I try to jam my fingers down my throat to throw up, but I only dry heave. I try to keep my eyes open, but I only see blue and purple spots. I kneel enough to reach the phone on top of the counter, but I never get to make the call.
I’m being moved, but my eyes won’t open. I manage to break free and crawl a few inches on my hands and knees before my arms give out and my chin hits cold linoleum.
“Sophie?” A wave of relief washes over me when Myles says my name. I feel exhausted, too dizzy and nauseous to think. One of Myles’ hands holds my head off of the floor while the other is on my face. “Sophie, listen to me.” He speaks fast, but his voice is calm.
I can’t answer him with anything more than a jumble of sounds that get stuck in my mouth. My tongue feels like it’s tied to the back of my throat.
“Okay,” he says evenly. “You need to get up.” His arms slide under me and a sharp, excruciating pain shoots through my side. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
He carries me a few feet then sits me down on the floor. I lean my back against the wall.
“Do you think you can kneel?” Myles asks. I manage to roll my head back and forth as an
I don’t think so.
“It’s okay.”
He grabs hold of me again, bending my knees and leaning my body forward so my weight is completely supported by him. One of my arms clings around his neck while the other hand tries to grasp onto the floor, which is smooth and cold.
Myles’ free hand reaches around my back so his hand is on my stomach. It’s impossible, but it feels like he’s touching bare skin when I still have a coat and sweater on.
There’s a wrenching, twisting, pain under his cool hand.
It’s like someone has reached inside of me and is squeezing my organs. My eyes open enough to realize what it is. “S-s-st,” is all that comes out when I try to tell him to stop, so I start slapping at his hand that grabs on tighter around my middle.
“It’s okay,” is the only answer I get in return.
The taste of salt fills my mouth and my head pitches forward.
I start throwing up.
It’s not the kind of barfing I’m used to. This is a convulsing, painful, burning that I have never had the pleasure of experiencing before. As soon as I feel like I’m done, I’m heaving again. And again. The same, bitter, pill taste sits in the back of my throat, only now it seems way worse.
“You have to get it all up,” Myles cuts into my puke fest with his calm and quiet voice. He’s gently holding my hair. I try prying his hand from my body again, but it doesn’t budge.
I sit for a long time, gasping and spitting until I’m sure that I’m done. I feel less dizzy, but more sick; and now my ribcage is on fire.
Myles is positioning me so my back is against the wall again. I open my eyes long enough to realize that we’re in the bathroom, the lights blinding me and forcing my eyes shut. There’s water running. My head is pounding and my stomach hurts worse. It feels like I’ve been completely hollowed out like a jack-o’-lantern. There’s a damp, rough, cloth wiping sweat away from my face before it runs along my lips.
Now Myles cradles my head with one hand. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he says quietly. I open my eyes again, letting them adjust to the light this time. His face is close to mine. “Here, drink this.” He tries handing me a cup, but I flinch without meaning to. “It’s just water.”
I’m extremely thirsty, and I just want to get this sour taste out of my mouth. Taking the cup from him, I chug it and feel a little better as the cool liquid splashes against my tongue and throat. When I’m done, he takes the cup back and sets it on the floor.
“Jade!” I croak, snapping back into what happened maybe less than an hour ago in my room. My legs wobble when I try to bend them to stand. I just want to know where my brother is, if he’s okay.
“Shhh.” Myles holds on to my shoulders so I stop moving. “Jade’s alright. He’s sleeping.”
I relax my body a little. “Jade,” I repeat. “He’s okay?” I can’t form complete sentences apparently.
“Yes,” he reassures me. “He won’t remember any of this.”
I start crying again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Myles hugs me.
He doesn’t need to explain. I’m alive, and Michael will know it. “He’ll be back.” My voice comes out tight and quiet.
“I know.” And he’s carrying me. My face feels hot. My whole body does, actually. I start trying to unbutton my jacket as Myles lays me on the couch. “No. Leave this on,” he says.
“Hot,” I mumble, trying to lift my head on my own but not succeeding.
“I know.” He takes my hands in his, stilling them. “But we’re leaving.” He turns away from me as my eyes shut again. “Stay with her,” I hear him say. “I have a phone call to make.”
I thought we were alone but when I open my eyes again, Alex is standing in front of me. “Hey,” she says softly.
“What—” is what comes out when I want to ask what’s going on. I try lifting my head up again, but that only throws sweaty hair in my face.
Alex brushes it away.
Myles comes back over to the couch a few minutes later, almost pushing Alex out of the way. “Could you get her some clothes?” he asks her. I see her nod. Her hair is in a ponytail, bobbing in a lavender strand down her back as she walks away. Myles helps me sit up, adjusting my coat around my hot skin. “Where are your keys?” he asks.
“Where are we going?” I manage.
“Somewhere safe,” he tells me, setting a pair of my sunglasses on my face. Suddenly I feel anxious. Oh God, he
is
going to come back, isn’t he? I can’t just leave Jade here. I put my arms out in front of me as Myles is wrapping his around my waist to carry me again. “No. Jade,” is all my tongue will allow.
Adrienne’s tall frame seems to appear from nowhere. “He’s after you, not your brother,” he says.
I stare at him, waiting for more of an explanation.
“We can talk in the car,” Myles interrupts, wrapping an arm around my side. I lean against him as I stand.
Alex comes back, handing Myles my bag that was left in Jade’s truck. “I put some clothes in here.” Her voice is gentle, like she’s afraid Myles will break if she uses any more force.
“Thank you,” he tells her.
“Her keys are right here,” Adrienne says, and a jingling sound is cut short when they meet his palm.
Myles starts guiding me toward the door. Other than that they think Michael is coming back and we’re going somewhere “safe,” I don’t know what’s going on, or where we’re going.
I lie down in my own back seat with my head on Myles’ lap. Adrienne and Alex are in the front, one of them driving, but I’m too dizzy to look and see which one. Myles cracks the windows a little, and it helps cool my burning face. When I open my eyes for a split second, I realize that there are grey clouds gathering and it’s not as sunny as it was before. And we start driving. Really fast. I stare at the ceiling to keep from getting carsick.
“I didn’t know he was going to do that to Jade,” Myles says suddenly. “Jade came home early so he could spend time with you today. Michael saw an opportunity, so he took it when you got to Jade’s car.”
I rub my stomach and wait for him to continue as my eyes fix on one ripple of blue fabric in my car’s ceiling. “I couldn’t help you right away. He would have killed you,” he says it like it’s a fact and I don’t doubt him. “I had to wait until he left,” his voice cracks. “I’m sorry you had to go through any of it.” My mouth seems too tired to form words, so I just listen. “I’m sorry I hurt you. There was no time for anything else.”
My eyes shift to his face and his blue eyes are on mine. “I’m okay.” I want to believe it. “Where are we going?” I slur.
“There’s a place near where Alex and Adrienne live.” I can tell that we’re getting onto the parkway as he says this. There are green signs flashing by the part of the window I can see out of. “Once we’re there, we’ll figure out what to do.”
I don’t know what kind of a place could keep him out, but I trust Myles. He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t think we’d be safe there.
We’re both quiet and I shut my eyes again. I just want to feel the cool air and I just want the ache in my side and the throbbing in my temples to go away. I can’t think anymore. My head hurts. Everything hurts, damn it. I close my eyes tighter until I fall asleep.
We drive for no more than an hour before I wake up in horrible pain. My rib feels like it’s going to punch through my side with every breath, so when we start hitting bumps in the road, it becomes unbearable.
Myles places a hand where it hurts, and I begin to feel tingly and tired.
“No,” I cough out, pushing him away. When he looks at me questioning why, I sit up slowly. “I don’t want to be sleeping while all of this crazy shit is going on.” My ability to articulate my thoughts seems to have come back. I grunt as we hit another bump.
“We can’t pull over,” Myles says, but instead of looking at me, he’s staring at the back of Alex’s head in the passenger’s seat. “It’s dark outside,” he says.
A glace out the window confirms that he’s right. Alex twists around in her seat. “It’s three o’clock. We have almost two hours before sunset. Michael wouldn’t step outside during the day.”
We’re on some highway, most likely on the parkway, and Adrienne pulls into a rest stop before they can argue anymore. “She’s right, Myles,” he says. “We’ll stop for five minutes.”
Surprisingly, Myles doesn’t protest.
Adrienne parks in front of a large stone building. He turns around when we stop moving. “We’ll be back. Need to re-fuel.” He smiles slightly at me as Alex digs something out of the glove box. Something that looks and sounds like heavy plastic. With a dark red substance inside.
This is the least of my problems.
They exit the car, and I push myself into a sitting position. I take in a deep breath as their doors slam shut. It’s quiet. The only sounds are cars whizzing by on the highway, a car door here and there.
I don’t know why I’m still so damn hot. My fingers try to work the buttons of my jacket free.
“Here,” Myles says, moving closer.
I lean back and let him help me off with my coat, but it’s not good enough. I grab at the heavy fabric of my turtle-neck sweater, prepared to rip the thing off.
“Hey,” Myles says, his hand stilling mine. “It’s okay.”
“No, I’m melting.” I can’t help laughing the tiniest bit at my response, despite how things are just not funny.
“It’s a side effect,” he says as he takes my hands away from my neck. “From me.” He stares down at my sweater, somewhere in my stomach region. “Do you have something on under this?”
I nod.
Slowly, Myles starts removing the sweater, leaving the black tank top I have underneath where it is. When he gets to my chest, I get uncomfortable. He stops. Jesus.
“No,” I say. “Just do it.” I sound pissed off when I say it, but I’m just frustrated with myself. Finally, the heavy wool comes off, and I can feel cool air around me. But all the movement sends a shooting pain through my side.
He bends down and reaches for something on the ground near our feet. “I could tape your rib. That might help.”
“Tape?”
“Yeah. You have painter’s tape in your bag.” He shrugs.
“You think that’ll work?”
He palms the familiar roll of blue tape, staring at it. “It’ll keep it from moving so much.”
Even a little bit of help would be nice. “Okay.”
Myles kneels down in front of me, behind Alex’s pushed-up-way-too-far passenger’s seat. He hesitates. “I have to roll up your shirt.”
Well, what is it going to be? A minute or two of being uncomfortable, or way longer feeling like a bone is going to pop through my skin? “Okay.” Only my voice comes out shaky.
He starts slowly rolling up the black material of my tank top, stopping just before the fabric of my bra starts. I get uncomfortable for a second or two, but I take a deep breath and try to remind myself that I'll feel better when he's done.
Myles starts peeling the tape from the roll. I don’t want to just sit here helplessly, so I hold out my hand so he can stick the tape to it. When there are four pieces, Myles takes the first one out of my hand.
He places it right underneath where he rolled my tank top to. Then he stretches it around my side and to my spine. I stare at the ceiling as he does it, because I don’t want to know what it looks like.
The next piece of tape he sticks directly onto the rib. That hurts the most.
“It’s broken?” I ask, figuring he would be the one to know.
He takes the next piece of tape from me, concentrating on sticking it just above the rib. “I think so,” he says, gently smoothing out the tape.
The last piece he places below the rib, then he rolls my shirt back down. “That should help.”
I’m not hot anymore, and my side feels a little better. But my stomach still has that raw feeling, and my head is pounding. I shut my eyes a little too long to be a blink.
Myles sits down where he was and I try to get comfortable on his lap again. I can’t lay any other way besides on my back. If I try to turn over, either my rib or my stomach start to hurt more. But even lying on my back doesn’t feel too great after a while. My stomach feels like there are razor blades swimming around in it.
“I’m sorry.” He strokes my hair.
“I didn’t know you could do that,” I say, referring to my stomach.
“It’s the same way I take someone’s pain,” he explains, “Only there was no time to do it slowly, so I hurt you,” he sounds like he feels guilty, which is pretty ridiculous.
“Stop,” I croak.
He smiles half-heartedly, placing my hand in his. Then we’re quiet.
“Myles.” I stare at our hands. “I’m scared,” I barely say.
“I know.” He’s leaning over me so his face moves closer to mine.
I want to ask him if everything is going to be okay; why this is happening.
But I’m kissing him and he’s kissing me back. I barely notice a cold tear on my cheek when he pulls away.
I want to tell him I love him; and I try to say the words I feel in my gut and my heart and every inch of me. But nothing comes out.
Myles sits up straight, I close my eyes. The front doors open. Alex and Adrienne are back.
“Are you hungry, Sophie?” Alex asks.
I shrug, but she hands me a granola bar wrapped in a bright green wrapper anyway. I get to take three bites of it before I start to feel sick. “I think I have to throw up,” I say to no one in particular.
Myles places my coat over my shoulders and mutters something under his breath to Alex as we get out of the car. “Sorry,” I hear her say as we start walking swiftly toward the stone building.
We walk past row after row of fast food places once we’re inside, the smell of fries and pizza only make my stomach clench up worse. When we finally get to the back of the building where the restrooms are, I have to stop Myles from following me inside.