Betrayal - Book 3 of Guardians Saga - EDITED

CH 11.2 Talking Crazy

Gabe's mouth dropped open as he stepped into Alex's apartment. He saw her lying on the couch, her eyes closed, and Rile gently stroking her hair. His gaze then settled on the kitchen table where a bloody razor lay amongst other items from Alex's medicine cabinet.

Cale put his hand on Gabe's shoulder and spoke quietly so as not to disturb Alex. "Rile found Alex trying to cut her wrists with this. He just now calmed her."

"What?!" Gabe exclaimed, his voice reverberating in the small room. Alex's eyes fluttered open at the sudden outburst, her body tense as if she had been expecting something to happen.

Rile glared at him. "Good going, loudmouth."

Alex sat up slowly, rubbing at her tired eyes. When Gabe crouched next to her, his stomach dropped as he saw the long cut running down her arm.

"Is this really true?" His voice was barely a whisper. "What made you do this? After everything Morgan did to you, why hurt yourself? You're already dealing with enough pain from your enemies. Don't add to it. That's foolish."

"Back off," Rile growled, gathering Alex into his arms as she buried her face against his chest.

"But—" Gabe started.

"Stuff it in your eggshell." Rile stood up. "I may be a hothead as the humans say, but at least I don't expect perfection from everyone around me." Rile's large, callused hands scooped her up like a rag doll, and he carried her to the bedroom.

Gabe looked down at the floor in shame as Rile's voice filled the room.

Cale stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Agama are taught the value of our lives and the destruction that suicide leaves behind. Perhaps humans are not."

***

Alex lay in bed, her chest moving slowly with each breath as she slept through the rest of the day and the night as well. Rile refused to leave her side, despite offers from Cale to switch off. Rile had dragged a recliner next to Alex's bed. Gabe went in and out, alternating checking on Alex and roaming the streets to ease his roiled emotions. As the morning sun peeked through the second-hand lace curtains, Alex stirred and opened her eyes without her usual sense of panic or confusion.

"It must have been some party," she mumbled.

Rile woke with a start, almost falling off the recliner. "What did you say?"

Alex adjusted herself in bed and smiled weakly. "I said it must have been some party. I feel hungover and you didn't make it home."

Rile's brain was still foggy with the remnants of a deep sleep. He rubbed his eyes and blinked blearily at her. "How did you say you felt?"

Alex giggled and pulled the covers aside. Her normally bright eyes were bloodshot and her hair tangled around her face. "I said I felt hung over," she said. "You must be, too. No one could beat your drinking record. Too bad I don't remember it, I'm sure you did lots of amusing things while drunk."

"Alex, there wasn't a party," he began, very confused.

"And her I thought I had been drunk. Don't deny it. Are Gabe and Cale here, too? They'll want breakfast." She pulled off the covers and tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed.

Rile stood over Alex, eyes wide with worry. He tucked the blankets around her body and shook his head. "Alex, you have to stay in bed for at least a week. That's what the doctor said."

"A week? For a hangover? Talk about conservative treatment. If it's the doctor's orders, then I guess you'll have to bring me breakfast in bed." She smiled mischievously at him.