Tyson: She fought me every step of the way and I loved breaking down her walls.
Tyson: She would kick my ass if she had seen me like this.
Tyson: When I look at you the pain goes away.
Tyson: I can’t handle the guilt that stirs up in me when you are the only one that makes the pain go away.
Tyson: I still expect her to walk through the door every minute of the day.
Tyson: I feel like I can’t breathe.
I set my phone down and I can feel the tears streaming down my face.
Tyson is in a constant loop of pain that he can’t seem to break free from.
I don’t even think about what I do next. I put on a hoodie over my shirt, and leggings on. I grab my mom’s keys, and drive to the clubhouse.
It’s not until I’m halfway there that I realize what I am doing.
Because of Tyson, I left the house to check on him and not once did I shake with nerves that I was out by myself.
The clubhouse is full of people. You would think that since it is well past midnight that it wouldn’t be, but I guess they partied hard after Stacey’s memorial.
I climb out of the car and still no nerves show. I know that it’s because I trust these men (after all, they saved me) that I’m not scared of them. I know that not a single one of them would hurt me.
Walking into the clubhouse, I nod at a couple brothers and they don’t bother to hide their looks of surprise.
When I see Derek and Lily, they automatically come up to me with concern on their faces.
“Camilla, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” Lily says.
“No… Ugh, well I guess… I just got a bunch of texts from Ty-Torch and I wanted to check on him,” I say, and they both look shocked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. He’s not in a good place right now,” Derek says.
I nod my head in understanding.
“I know he’s not. Trust me. These weren’t happy texts, but I can’t sit by and be silent while he’s breaking apart. For whatever reason, we are connected and I just need to make sure that he’s okay. I know this is a hard day for him. I promise that I won’t be long.”
Derek reluctantly nods his head. I can tell that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea. It probably isn’t, but I need to see for myself that he’s okay.
He shows me to which room is Tyson’s and doesn’t follow me in. I’m very thankful for that because if this doesn’t go down smoothly then I won’t have anyone to witness my humiliation.
I knock on the door pretty hard since the music is playing so loudly. I don’t hear anything, so I decide to try the doorknob.
“Tyson,” I say softly as I slowly open the door. He’s lying on his bed with a bottle clutched to one hand. I can’t help but feel an ache in my chest at the sight.
I’ve seen types like him before. He’s broken. That much is obvious.
My uncle was the same way after my auntie had died. He ended up drinking himself to death to escape the pain.
Countless times, I had found my mom and dad cleaning up his mess.
One sentence he muttered I can still hear to this day.
Don’t ever fall in love.
I didn’t take his words to heart because he was clearly a heartbroken man.
It was still something that popped into my head whenever I felt myself getting too close to a guy.
I walk over and grab his phone to turn down the music.
He sits up, but he sways and tries to stop himself by putting his hands in the air.
“W-what?” he says looking at me in confusion.
“I got your texts,” I say lamely.
He narrows his eyes slightly at me and I can tell that they are completely bloodshot.
“And you thought that was an invitation to come here and what? Take care of the poor drunk guy?” he says with a sneer that has me backing up a step.
“N-no, I just thought you could use a friend,” I say, instantly regretting coming here.
He lets out an ugly sound that sounds like a scoff, but he’s too drunk to make it right.
“I told you that I didn’t want to be friends. The texts were obviously a drunken mistake. Everything is a mistake,” he says in a cold tone.
“What are you trying to say?” I say as I feel tears welling in my eyes.
He stumbles to standing and keeps his glare on me.
“I can’t be your knight in fucking shining armour. I can hardly be an uncle or brother. Do I look like I want to deal with some woman’s problems on top of my own?”
The words hurt and some tears fall no matter how hard I try to keep them back.
I angrily wipe them away.
I know that alcohol can do some ugly things to people, but his hate has never been directed at me before.
“Fine. This is the last time you will have to see me. You want to drown in your own self-pity, be my guest. But I’m not going to stand here and watch as you ruin every relationship that means something to you,” I say as I walk toward the door and open it.
“Goodbye Torch,” I whisper harshly as I run from his room and the tears fall harder.
I hear my name being called, but I don’t risk looking at anyone.
I’m practically sobbing as I run for the car. I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump.
“Sorry. It’s just me, Crash. Let me take you
