Saving Quinton (Nova #2)(18)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“Relax,” Lea says, noting my anxiety. “The papers said there’s also support groups and counseling and I’m sure there’s probably something in Vegas…I’ll look into it.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, then grow silent again, staring outside at the city glittering in the distance, wondering where he is. If he’s walking around or at home. Or is he someplace worse? What if the address he gave me isn’t even real and he’s really homeless?

“Oh, for the love of God, Nova.” She gets to her feet, snatching her keys up from the end table. “Let’s go.”

I quickly stand up from the back of the couch. “Right now?”

She rolls her eyes and opens the front door. “If we don’t then you’re going to sit there and space off on me all night.”

She’s probably right, but nerves knot in my stomach. “I feel sick.” I wrap my arm across my belly.

“That’s your nerves.” She moves away from the door and grabs my hand, giving me a gentle tug. “Now come on. I’ll drive so you can space off and over-think stuff.”

“You know me too well,” I say, then glance down at my tank top and shorts, which have a small stain on the hem. “Maybe I should change.”

“You look great.” She pulls me over the threshold and outside. “You always do.” She releases my hand, reaches back inside, turns the lock, and flips on the porch light before shutting the door. Then she tucks the house key into the pocket of her shorts and heads down the cement path toward the car. “Besides, I really doubt he’s going to be focusing on your looks.”

“I know,” I say, rounding the front of the car to the passenger side. “You’re right. I’m just nervous.” Really nervous, to the point where I’m going to throw up. But I force the taste of vomit back down my throat and get in the car, opening up the glove box where I put the piece of paper I wrote Quinton’s address on. Lea gets in and starts the engine, flipping the headlights on while I type the address into the GPS.

I examine the map on the screen. “It says it’s only five miles away.”

“Five miles in Vegas can take quite a while.” She buckles her seat belt and so do I. “And I’m a little worried about the place we’re going to.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that there are some areas that are super sketchy.”

“And you’re guessing he’s living in one of these areas?”

“I don’t want to make assumptions. I mean, I’m sure there are plenty of drug addicts who live in nice houses and who you would never think are drug addicts, but…” She trails off, adjusting the rearview mirror.

“But he doesn’t even have a phone or a job,” I say, slumping back in the seat. “So I’m guessing the place he’s living in isn’t fancy, if he even lives in a place…I’ve already thought of this but I still want to go—I need to know, Lea, I need to know what happened to the guy that made me feel things again…”

She offers me a sympathetic smile as she pushes the car into reverse. Lea isn’t the best driver and when she presses the gas she ends up giving it too much and the car jerks backward. My hand shoots out toward the dashboard and I hold on.

Hold on for dear life, knowing I’m going to have to.

Quinton

I feel like I’m dying, coming in and out of consciousness, every bone in my body bruised. I can hear voices, telling me to snap out of it, but I can’t seem to get my eyes to open. I can feel memories returning to me, ones I don’t want to remember and one in particular I’ve made myself forget, yet I can’t seem to stop myself from fading into it.

I’m going to die. I can feel it, through the lack of pain, the numbness in my chest, the coldness in the air. But I’m also warm, from the blood that’s soaked my chest, my clothes, soaked its way from inside me to the outside. It’s the feel of death all over me and I embrace it, knowing that if I do survive, there won’t be anything left for me but anguish and solitude.

I stare up at the sky as I lie beside Lexi, choking on my own tears as I hold her cold, lifeless hand. I focus on the stars, wanting to touch them until they begin to fade, one by one, my heartbeat fading with them. The sky gets darker, along with everything around me, until I can’t see a thing. I can feel my breath leaving me, my chest becoming heavier, but my thoughts becoming lighter. Free.

The ground below me softens, the sky dimming until I can only see blackness. It feels like I’m moving…sinking…or maybe I’m flying…I can’t tell. I don’t care. I just want to keep feeling this way, because it’s taking the pain of Lexi’s death with it. The agony…it’s gone…my guilt…it doesn’t exist. The fact that I ruined our future doesn’t matter, because we’re leaving this world together…

“Quinton…wake up, man…”

Go away…

“Quinton…” Somebody shakes my shoulder. “Seriously, wake up, man…you’re freaking the shit out of me.”

Leave me alone.

“Wake up!” someone shouts.

Just let me die…please…

I just want to die.

God, please just let me die.

Chapter 5

Nova

I’m not sure what to do, what to think, how to process what I’m seeing. Deep down I think I knew, but I didn’t prepare myself very well for it. I should have. I should have told myself that this was what I was going to walk into, so that I wouldn’t be sitting here with my jaw hanging to my knees, feeling like I want to throw up, then curl up in a ball and cry until I run out of tears. My OCD is kicking in and the desire to count the windows on the buildings, the stars in the sky, the lines on the back of my hand, anything so I don’t have to look at the horrible view in front of me, is overpowering.

“You were right,” I say to Lea, dumbstruck as I grip the edge of the seat, my palms damp against the upholstery.

“I know.” She frowns at the view in front of us. “I’m so sorry, Nova…I don’t even know what to say.”

“It’s not your fault,” I tell her, opening and shutting my eyes, wishing the view would disappear, but it doesn’t.

“I know, but I’m still sorry,” she replies, her hands gripping the steering wheel.

When the GPS first led us to the two-story apartment building, I thought it’d given us the wrong directions, since the building looked more like a very large abandoned motel than a place where people would live, but after double-checking I painfully realized it was the right place. Half the windows are busted out, some are boarded up, and the rest have curtains hanging up to block the windows, probably to hide what’s going on inside—drugs, prostitution, God knows what else. The building sits away from a road that’s lined with secondhand stores, discount and smoke shops, run-down houses, some looking worse than the apartment building. In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s the nicest place on the block.