Novel & Cerita Never Call Me When You're Sober

Hey player snap out of whatever dream world you are in, someone is speaking to you, sub conscious immediately called me back. “Hey are you still there” he immediately asked as I was still staring at him. I quickly tapped myself back to reality when sub conscious spoke up and I was able to reply him “I don’t think it’s any of your business if I take soda water or alcohol, in the same manner I do not remember inviting you to this bar nor do I remember asking you to tell me what to take in parties and what not to take” I replied in a fierce tone. “Oh, she’s tough” he said as he chuckled

So I guess, coming home to an empty house is pretty fitting. She hasn't even come by for her stuff, everything is exactly where she left it this morning. She must be borrowing some stuff from Fran. I should call her. No I shouldn't I'm drunk. Well, I'm not drunk but I'm not sober, I'm at that awkward middle phase where I am probably responsible for my actions but I don't feel like I should be. Fuck it. I sit down on the edge of the bed and dial the phone. It rings, and rings, and rings. I fall back against the bed and let out a sigh, she's not picking up.

‘I promised you I'd behave, but if they keep talking shit about you, I might have to rip their tongues out,’ Kaan said tightly through the link. I almost snorted. ‘I don't think that ripping their tongues would help our cause.’ ‘It wouldn't,’ he agreed. ‘But it would surely shut them up. I hope you realize how much restraint it takes not to kill everyone who does not respect you. They're still alive only because you did not want bloodshed.’ I stroked his cheek and gave him a quick kiss. ‘I know, and that makes me love you even more, my Alpha.’ A low growl rumbled in his chest, and a wave of heat washed over me. All kinds of highly inappropriate thoughts invaded my mind in an instant. Fortuna

“I’ll end this today. No more threats. No more running.” I wanted to believe him. But when his phone rang and he stepped away to take the call, I felt the truth settle heavy in my chest. I was addicted to the wrong man. The one who could save me and destroy me in the same breath. He came back with a dark expression. “Jax is pushing the others. They want a meeting. All of them. Tonight.” My stomach dropped. “Don’t go.” “I have to.” He pulled me against his chest. “I’ll make sure they understand you’re off limits. Forever.”

Harley Jay was drunk. I could tell by the way he answered the phone, the slight slurr of his words as he told me to "just stay safe" and that he'd see me the next day. I guess his five year sobriety chip was well and truly down the toilet.

Some nights, the fear would completely dominate my mind, and I started to drink myself into oblivion, attempting to quiet my restless mind. I would always call her during my inebriated rampages, knowing that no matter how far off the edge I go, she’ll always be the only person to bring me back. When I called her one night at our usual time, and found out her phone was disconnected, I cried…I fucking balled like a damn child.

And then my mother’s words, sharp and cutting, telling me I’m nothing but a failure. I down another drink, and then another. The edge starts to blur, the sharp corners of my thoughts softening just enough to breathe. My phone vibrates on the counter. I ignore it. It vibrates again. And again. I glance at the screen. Scarlett. “Goddamn it,” I mutter, letting it ring. But she doesn’t stop. Call after call, the screen lighting up over and over until I finally grab the phone and answer. “What?” I snap, the alcohol making my voice rougher than I mean it to be.

“Don’t tell me. I need to eat, shower, and sleep for a week straight before you tell me what I have to do next.” I needed to call Emma and Mia, too. They would believe me. They had to. Someone called me again, and I tossed my phone to Heather. I wasn’t sober enough to have a professional talk, or drunk enough to nod through it. “It says Mom.” I snatched it from her hand and picked up the phone. You never miss your mother’s call. Even if you are on a casting call, in the loo, or death row. “Mom!” I said with fake excitement. My own beaming voice made my headache worse. “How are you? Why’d you call?”

Not fucking calling someone on a cell phone, just the fact that they're part of an MC ensures they have easy access, Tip seems to follow the same thought by narrowing his eyes, but starts walking towards a long wooden counter I notice the stools and bottles displayed on a large panel. I whistle at the sight of the entire bar receiving an understanding smile from the man, I stand between two stools picking up the phone. I stop taking a deep breath trying to remember the safest number to call. I type in the numbers and wait, lifting my head and feeling the watchful eyes. * — Hello? - the serious and irritated voice appears. *- You can come to get me. - As soon as I speak I hear things falling

Call me when you are sober. I read it twice, then sighed softly. The message had came in around 1am. Carol had no idea how the night had truly ended. She didn’t know that troublesome was the wrong word entirely, or that pressure hadn’t been the problem. She didn’t know that I had wanted him just as badly as he wanted me, or that I had been the one who tipped everything over the edge. ‘I’m fine,’ I typed back after a moment. ‘I’ll call later.’