Wasted Time (The Steel City #1)

6. Declan

CHAPTER SIX

declan

Fuck this.

Fuck this, and fuck alcohol.

My head is pounding as I walk through the door to my suite, straight to one of the bedrooms, and collapse onto the perfectly made bed. I groan, realizing that I forgot to shut the blinds.

When the hell did I even open them?

I have no spare energy or willpower to get up and shut them now that I am finally in a damn bed and the world has stopped spinning.

Seth’s couch is oddly comfortable, but it isn’t exactly fit for tossing and turning all night when your brain won’t let you sleep.

I should text her.

I wasn’t wrong, but I can admit that I was out of line. I should have stopped my rampage when I saw that look on her face. The look that rarely pops up. I knew that she was shutting down, putting up a wall between us with each word that left my mouth.

I didn’t. I kept going. It’s a habit.

But damn, maybe she’ll think about it now. She’s not happy. I can’t believe I’m the only one who sees that. It’s not my responsibility to convince her that she deserves more, and it’s also not my business, but it seems that I can’t stop trying to remind her of her worth.

She is worth a hell of a lot more than he’s giving her.

The second she left The Swan Dive , Avery stormed in like a ball of fire. I think we’re good now. We seemed to be by the time we got home. That’s one-half of the twins back to loving me again. I was hoping to see Penny back at Seth’s. Why? I don’t really know. I was still fueled by adrenaline, and I was so fucking annoyed at her ability to deflect.

I don’t think my intention was to apologize.

At least Tiffany went home with another guy last night. Early, too. I didn’t have to worry about her texting or questioning me about that fight. I wouldn’t have been nice, given my mood. Maybe our last text exchange really did do the trick.

Small wins.

The rest of the night went to utter shit.

I pull the covers over my body and shut my eyes. I only have a week left at home, and then I’m back to Pittsburgh. I leave a few days before Penny does. She’ll have to talk to me before then, right? She can’t let this go on until we both come home again. I won’t see her until Christmas. That would be horrible and unfair and… I’m scared it’s exactly something she would do.

Her face when she told me that she was cutting me out of her life flashes before my eyes.

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen Penny cry before—not really, but there were tears in her eyes after I said what I said. The waves were roaring against the shore of those stormy blues. It hit me like a punch in the gut, knowing I was the cause. I see it every time I blink.

She doesn’t cry in front of us. Maybe Ave, and I’m sure Wyatt has wiped a tear or two, but that’s it. She’s unbreakable. Too full of pride, I think. I reckon the only person who has ever seen a full cry from that girl is herself in the mirror.

Great move, Declan. Tell your friend her boyfriend sucks and doesn’t treat her right but make her cry while you do it. Genius. Big brain play.

My phone buzzes in my pocket.

Groaning, I reach down to fish for it. Normally, I’d let it go, but a big part of me is hoping that this might be her texting. I can handle arguing with somebody, but I don’t like fighting with people. I don’t like dragging things like this out.

It’s only a text from Wyatt and a separate text from Seth in the group chat.

I open the group chat first.

Big Dogs

Seth

How are my children feeling today?

I don’t humour him with a response. Fuck him and his sober ass. He was all sunshine and rainbows this morning, and I wanted to punch him in the nose for it. The impulse got even worse when he let me know that Avery already left to check on Penny. Neither of them thought to wake me or considered inviting me along to try and talk things through with her?

She had to be checked on? That felt great.

At least I got a cinnamon bun. A fresh one, too. That kind of made me feel better .

Reminded me of her, though.

About the way her eyes light up when she sees a fucking pastry.

I open the text from Wyatt.

Wyatt

Bro, what is wrong with you?

I sigh, dropping my head to the pillows. Our friends never know when to mind their own business. I need new ones. Mute ones, preferably.

Me

My brain is in too much pain for a lecture.

I shut my eyes, but he texts back just as quickly.

Wyatt

Poor baby. Too tired from ruining the night last night?

Me

Bye, Wyatt.

Wyatt

Dude, you’ve got to stop. She doesn’t need our input. Save it for when she asks for it.

She’ll never ask for it. That’s the issue.

I click off my phone and toss it to the end of the bed. Yeah, yeah, everyone else are great friends, and I’m the asshole. As far as I see it, everyone is letting her be treated like garbage, and I’m the only one laying the truth out for her.

Who is the asshole, really?

Being in a crappy relationship for a long time has the power to convince you that a state of crappiness is normal. It can start to make you feel like it’s as good as it’s going to get for you. It also has the sneaky ability to wrap you in a state of comfort, where even if you know it’s not right—the alternative, being alone, is much more terrifying.

Let me say this, loud and clear so that it sinks into the brain and tattoos itself there. None of that is true. Staying in a crappy relationship, a relationship where you are not being valued, or where the other person isn't pulling their weight, no matter how much you love them, is not normal.

Being alone is not more terrifying than staying where you are and suffering.

I promise.

This is coming from a guy who has never even had a serious girlfriend. I’m an objective third party with nothing to gain here. Just, trust me. Letting go of something that does not serve you will be the biggest win of your fucking life.

And darling, I swear—it will be the biggest loss of theirs.

I wouldn’t let any of my friends believe they deserve a mediocre relationship. I wouldn’t keep quiet for any of them—even Tiff. The way I see it, I’m the only voice of reason in Penny’s ear, confirming all those thoughts that I know are swirling around in her brain.

Penny is different. Penny used to be a ball of fire, attitude, venom, and a strange allure that made people desperate to be in her line of sight. It’s like looking at a stranger now, and I don’t fucking like that.

I saw it in her face. I know I’m right.

She wants to cut me out? Fine. I’m not going to text her and beg for her to talk to me. I’m not going to apologize either, not when I know she’s been begging for someone to say that to her face to convince her she isn’t crazy.

I will not grovel. Not technically.

We’ll both be leaving soon, and traditions are traditions. There is one tradition that is especially sacred and that none of us mess with, not even if we’re late for our flight or sick with the damn flu.

The Goodbye Parade.

She is screwed. She’ll have to talk to me.

At the very least, she has to open the door.