Page 54 of Come Take Me Now

I whip the bathroom cabinet open so hard that it hits the oversized mirror with a loud clink. I don’t flinch. I don’t look to see if it cracked or shattered. I’m laser-focused on those damn bottles. All of them.

I empty the middle shelf of Adderall bottles into my arms, and the pills rattle inside the bottles. Before I lose my nerve, I race back downstairs where Tilly’s waiting at the bottom of the steps.

“Here. Get rid of these. I don’t care what you do. Just get them the fuck out of here.” I pass them off to her, and she shuffles to keep hold of them.

“What am I supposed to do?” she asks, wide-eyed.

“Anything. I don’t know. But they can’t stay here.”

“Enzo.”

I feel my jaw clench. “Tilly, please,” I force out. “Now.” It’s a lot to put on a twenty-one-year-old, but I have to turn a new leaf.

She studies my eyes before nodding. “Fine, I’ll figure it out. Go relax.”

I’m pretty sure the only thing that helps me relax is weed, but adding another substance right now can’t be a good idea. I suck in a ragged breath. “Will you come back? I need you. Don’t make me have to come find you.”

Her eyes are still wide as saucers as she nods. “Of course. You’re not doing this alone.”

She’s cool as a fucking cucumber—or walking on eggshells around me.

But I’m supposed to be the steady one she needs. I’ve been holding everything too tightly, Tilly included, but now I don’t know what will happen if I let go fully.

Part Two

Chapter Sixteen

Tilly

Sunday night hit Enzo the hardest.

I wrote research papers in college about addiction through both psychological and sociological lenses, but I’ve never met anyone with a true addiction. My ex doesn’t count. He wasn’t truly addicted—just used out of convenience. And I never thought a case study would be standing in front of me. Or be someone I’m deeply intimate with.

I still don’t want to walk away.

Most girls would’ve run. Maybe I should have.

I had six-foot-five of red rage pointed at me, and I stayed. I breathed. I re-centered. Because one of us needed to. It sure as hell wasn’t going to be him. Enzo on Adderall would hurt me, but I’m here because sober Enzo won’t.

I have to believe that at least.

He blew up.

And it reminded me too much of my dad.

I tell myself it’s the chemicals, not his character. Not the man under it. He thinks he’s in control, but he doesn’t have a handle on anything. Not his mental health, his job, or even me. I know how he feels right now. Spiraling because everything is out of his control. It’ll get better once this passes.

This drug has pushed him to extremes no one should experience. I know he doesn’t want me nine hours away at grad school, but we’ll figure that out. For now, day by day is all we have.

This is a much heavier summer romance than I signed up for. He can be terrifying and proved that Saturday morning, but I need to believe he’ll never hurt me because he’s once in a lifetime.

My big love.

And I owe it to myself to find out what love with Enzo is like when he’s in his right mind. I’d be a damn fool not to, and I’m tired of making mistakes.

Monday morning, I’m awake before him. I unzip my toiletry bag and grab my pill organizer. I check each day through the plastic to make sure none are missing, and Monday through Friday are loaded just as they should be. I pop open the Monday compartment and take my daily dose with a sip of water from last night’s glass.

Tracking pills around my boyfriend is the last thing I expected to do this summer.