We drove straight to Tig's and went inside. Mom went into the guest room and got settled for the night. I still had the vodka that I grabbed from the house, so I went upstairs to sit my stuff down on the bed. The sheets were all over the floor at the bottom of the bed. I hadn't been here in a while so I knew they needed to be washed. I put them in the machine and went back to the bedroom.

I didn't realize how hard it would be to be there when he wasn't. I went to the bathroom to take a shower while the sheets washed. I looked in the mirror and saw my body was already bruised and there was dried blood all over my back. I turned the water up as hot as I could handle and got in. I washed off the blood and bits of glass that were in my hair, then I just stood there, leaning against the wall.

I loved showering with Tig. It bugged him how hot I kept the water, but he would get in and suffer through it anyway. We both always got out with red skin and we were steaming from the heat. He always stood behind me so the water wasn't directly on him, he always made sure that I was under the water so I wouldn't get cold. He would wrap his arms around me and kiss my neck, shoulders, and back. He would take his time and scan every inch of me; it was like he was trying to memorize every aspect of my body.

I had this nasty habit of scratching at my skin until it was raw and welted, even sometimes bleeding. He would come up behind me and rub his fingertips along the marks. He would kiss them and say "I don't like when you're hurting." He would run the water over them and make sure that if they were bleeding, they were bandaged before bed. It was his way of making me feel loved and like no matter what I did he would always be there for me.

I started using the first time when I was 15. I was playing basketball and I was very good at it. I was going to take a shot one night and some other girl slammed me in midair. I fell to the ground and dislocated my hip and shoulder. They gave me painkillers at the hospital and that was all it took. When I quit using I tried other things to take the edge off. Tig saw what I was doing to myself after and he was so upset. He said, "No one hurts my queen. Not even herself."

I couldn't handle the memories of what we were. We would never be like that again; we would never be happy. All I could do was cry on the shower floor and turn the heat all the way up. It burnt my skin but I didn't care. I have cried so much in the past few months. Normally I would only allow myself to cry in the shower because the noise was drowned out, but lately I have been breaking down everywhere. I held my knees to my chest and just cried. It was body shaking and it gave me a headache. I needed some relief, fast.

I got out and wrapped myself in the fluffiest towel I had. I grabbed two pills out of the container in my medicine cabinet, it was my last baggie so I was gonna have to go see Darby again soon. I popped one and then placed the other one down on the counter. I wanted a quick fix and didn't want to wait for it to kick in, so I used my credit card to crush it and straighten it out into a line. I snorted half of it on each side of my nose, cleaned up the evidence, and sat down on the bathroom floor.

My mind floated back to Tig again. I remember one night I was sitting on the floor like I am now except I wasn't high, instead I was very drunk. He came in and saw me just zoned out on the ground and he sat in front of me and held my hands. He helped me up into the bed and held me until I went to sleep. He had tried to talk to me the next morning about what had made me drink so much. I blew him off and said it was nothing. He didn't believe me, but he was always patient with me, always loving me no matter what, until now. I pushed him away too many times and he snapped. It was my fault.

I heard a knock at the door and then it opened, revealing my mother. She came in and sat down on the floor across from me. I could feel her looking at me, but I refused to meet her eyes.

"Talk to me, baby. What's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't do that. You know exactly what I mean. Something happened when you had that car accident. You have been on edge and distant ever since. Now tell me what the hell is going on."

"I live with so many lies mama. So many things that I can never speak of. And that's fine. It's our life. We do it to protect the club, to protect our family. I can't lie to you. You're the only truth I've ever known. The only truth I have left."

"I know, baby."

"I've done so many bad things in my life. Caused so much pain. I did that because it was what was needed of me. I didn't want to, but after a while it was just what I did. I don't think I can ever come back from that. From all the hurt, all the hate."

"Baby you haven't done anything that you can't come back from."

I looked up at her then. My face was tear-stained and I laughed a little.

"What would be the thing you can't come back from?"

"Betraying that club."

"That's it?" I laughed.

"Yeah. As long as you don't betray the club then there's nothing you can't come back from."

"You seen Tig?"

"No. I meant to ask you how he was."

"Still critical. They won't know about the damage until he wakes up."

"He's a fighter, baby. I've known Tig a long time now. If anyone could take a blast it would be him."

"Yeah. I just… I can't let that be the last conversation we have. I was wrong. I shouldn't have pushed him away. I should've just…just…"

"Just what baby?"

I started crying, hard. I put my head in my hands and rocked back and forth. She pulled me to her chest and was rubbing my hair. "I'm sorry momma. I'm so fucking sorry. It's all my fault. I should've fought harder. I should've… I should've." I was starting to hyperventilate.

"Breathe baby. Breathe. It's okay. You fought for Tig. I know you did. It's not your fault."

"That's not what I'm talking about." I looked up at her and she wiped the tears off my cheeks.

"What is it baby?"

"I just…" I leaned back and took a deep breath. "After Bobby's party I um,-"

Her phone started ringing then. "I'll call them back later."

"No. Answer it. It could be important."

"This is important. You're important."

"Just answer the phone, mom."

She walked away and I started crying again and just sat there willing myself to be quiet so mom wouldn't hear me. I had screwed up so much in my life, caused so much pain. I had hurt my family. Because of me, we were falling apart. It was all my fault. Tig being hurt was my fault. My parents not sleeping in the same bed for the first time in a long time was my fault.

I reached up and grabbed all of the pills I had left and swallowed them all. I got dressed before I was too out of it. When I went back into the bathroom and locked the door. I could barely see or move. Everything was blurry. This will be easier. I won't be in pain anymore. I can't cause anymore pain. My family can finally heal.

I grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a letter to my mom:

Dear Mom, I am so sorry that this is how I have to do this. I have so much to apologize for and not nearly enough time. Please don't trust Ethan Zobelle. He is no good for our family. I want you to know that I love you and am proud to be your daughter. Tell Tig I love him, with the deepest, purest part of my heart. I am so sorry that I wasn't strong enough to handle all of this. Please forgive me. Amelia.

I folded the note in half and wrote Gemma on the top of it. I put it next to my makeup on the vanity and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked so broken, even my eyes looked dead. Honestly, I hadn't seen light in my eyes since I was raped. They really did take everything from me. I'm not strong enough to handle the pain, the looks in my family's faces. I lost my balance and fell to the floor. The last thing I saw was the white tile against my face.

I thought about my mom this time. I thought about when we had gone to the carnival last year. We were so happy. Jax and the guys were riding the rides, Tig and I snuck off to one photo booth while my mom and dad went to another one. We hooked up while the pictures were snapping. Just a quick handjob. I had made a joke that I couldn't see his dick when we looked at the pictures. He threw me over his shoulder and lightly smacked my ass saying, "You bad, baby. Real bad." We were happy. I smiled at the memory before the world went dark and I finally felt at ease.