5. Chapter 2
H e just had to say those three fucking words, ruining my high and pissing me off. I should find someone to suck my dick until it falls off, and I have suspicions that the guy eyeing me from the dance floor would be a willing participant.
But every time I try, I just… can’t. If it isn’t Henry, my dick doesn’t want it. Which is problematic, considering I’m pretty certain he’s going to find someone who treats him like the jewel he is, and he’ll leave me once they do.
Someone who can love him back without the fear of losing him.
That isn’t me. I’ve told him that since I cut off our relationship when my mother died. I couldn’t leave him alone, though, and he’s always there, always ready to take the scraps I offer him. Even when I told him I could never love him, or anyone, romantically.
Seeing my dad drag my mother’s corpse out of our burning house and crying over her…
Well, that fucked up my brain chemistry.
I was shell-shocked, and I had never seen my father break like he did that day. He loved her, and he lost her. He’s never been the same since. I don’t want–no, I refuse to ever be in that same situation. So I locked my heart up behind cement and chains so thick even I don’t know where that bitch is.
“Hi handsome,” the guy from earlier sways over. His eyes are covered in sparkles, and his lips are coated in paint that pops against the blacklight.
“Not interested,” I retort.
“You sure?” He smiles and runs a finger down my chest. “I’m down for anything.”
“I’m sure you are,” I scoff and pluck his hand from my body as I walk away. I should follow Henry back to the dorms, just in case. He’ll never know, and it will give me an excuse to wander around the campus a little. Toby’s nowhere to be found, even though he asked me not to leave without him. “Fuck it,” I mutter under my breath, he’s got Gemma, I need to make sure Henry gets back safe.
I haven’t had the chance to scope everything out, but Dad already checked the place. Cameras, dorm halls, classrooms–everything was clear. We can never be too careful, what with our fathers and their jobs and now our two additions to the family.
Fern married Creed over the summer, willingly this time, and Cin managed to wrangle Talon into something more resembling a nineteen-year-old, instead of the crotchety old bastard he used to act like.
He still hates everyone, and I don’t think that will change… ever. But Cin keeps him level, almost docile in comparison. The envy I have flows deep within my body, even though I know it’s a choice I could easily change.
Anytime I even think about trying with Henry, I see my house burning from the inside out with my father too close to the flames, wailing over my mother’s corpse, and I freeze. The wiring in my brain changed that day, and I don’t know if it will ever be reversed.
I know I love my dad, Toby, Talon, and Henry, but that’s as much love as I’ve got left to give. I can’t love someone more than me. I saw what that does, and I’m no longer interested. When Henry’s particularly mad and I can’t cope, all I see are the memories of before–before my life was wrecked, and my father became even more closed off, before my mother was dead.
The dorms are easy enough to slip in and out of unnoticed, so many drunk and rowdy college kids in one place tends to allow that freedom. Spotting Henry’s head of curls, I follow at a distance. Campus at night is actually quite pretty, with the buildings shrouded in gray and black, with slivers of the moon highlighting areas.
The sidewalks are lit pathways under the moonlight, even though they have no actual lights that I can see. Henry’s footsteps are quiet. He’s the shortest out of all of us, even though he had his growth spurt first, and his dad is one of the tallest.
He also isn’t built like the rest of us, where he’s soft and round; we're all hard edges.
I wish he would hit me. Beat the absolute shit out of me for the way I treat him, but he won’t.
That’s not who he is.
I’ve seen him angry, I’ve even been the target of his wrath, but this is different. Henry’s pain is a silent killer, it’s a spear driven through your heart with words, and looks, and longing.
His hurt is a palpable thing, and I’m the culprit.