4. Chapter 4
Noah
I feel weirdly giddy as I go upstairs to make my Goldilocks another sandwich.
As expected, he was a bit startled when he woke up, and even more so when I brought him down to the basement. It’s better for him there though. He’ll have his own room, and I can tend to him appropriately. He’ll understand soon enough.
The kitchen is as pristine as when Auntie was still alive. She loved baking bread on Sunday mornings, and when she could no longer hold a kitchen knife, I helped her with everything. I still have a few of the loaves we baked in the freezer, and one has been thawing on the counter for a few hours.
I put a slice in the toaster while I place an assortment of butter, turkey, and cheese on the counter. In due time, I’ll give my Goldilocks something more nutritious, but for now, I don’t want to leave him alone for too long.
With the sandwich on a paper plate and a can of soda in hand, I trot down the stairs to find him where I left him: on the bed I carried down here from the guest room, handcuffed wrist pulled to his chest.
He flinches when he sees me. Seems like he’s afraid of me. Pity. It’s not an uncommon occurrence though—people being afraid of me. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it has something to do with what the kids at school used to call me.
Dead Eye.
In middle school, they used to jump around me in a circle and call me this name in delight. Dead Eye, Dead Eye! Later on, they did worse things than just call me names. Among the kids in my class was someone I think Asher knows quite well: his own big brother, Ethan Dalton.
I didn’t see it at first, but I suppose they look quite alike, with the same curly blond hair and almond-shaped blue eyes. But where I remember Ethan having glowing, sun-kissed skin, Asher is pale, his complexion pallid and dry-looking, his jawline too sharp, his joints too protruding.
That’s what drugs and late nights will do to you. I’m sure I can get him looking healthier in no time.
Despite his deteriorating appearance, he is still very beautiful.
It doesn’t seem like he understands just how beautiful, and that’s dangerous for someone like him.
I feel like I know him already, as if I’ve seen into the depths of his heart.
Strange. Maybe it’s just that I don’t interact with that many people.
Since Auntie died, I can’t remember the last time I had a proper conversation with someone.
“Here,” I say, offering the plate.
Asher just stares at it, scowling as if it’s done him a personal slight.
“You told me you were hungry. Starving,” I add.
“You didn’t poison it, did you?”
I sigh, sitting down on the chair opposite the bed. “I told you—I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not like this?…?Buffalo person.”
“Buffalo Bill,” he says, trying to hide his smile behind the sandwich.
My eyes go wide at the sight. “You have?…?dimples.”
He shrugs. “Yeah.”
“Your brother has them too.”
Asher nods as he chews, but then he stops chewing to stare at me. “How do you know my brother?”
A pang of unease hits my chest. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that. “I’ve seen him around. You look a lot alike.”
“Wait, how old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“What school did you go to?”
“Northwood.”
“Me too. My brother as well. Did you have any classes together?”
Memories flash across my mind. Memories of Ethan Dalton laughing with his friends, his dimples on wide display in the classroom as he asked the teacher questions.
Everyone thought he was such a Goody Two-Shoes, but I knew better: When class ended, he and his friends tormented me relentlessly.
Ethan stood by the sidelines most of the time, but he was part of it, even that day?…
“He got into Harvard,” Asher says, a hint of sourness in his tone. Jealousy? No?…?I can’t really tell. He narrows his eyes and stops chewing. “Wait?…?Noah? Noah Belmont, that’s your name?”
I squirm uncomfortably.
“Dead Eye? Shit.” He barks out a startled laugh. “Should I be worried?”
“I told you,” I grit out. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
He frowns, jaw tensing. How do I make him relax around me?
“But you hurt my brother,” he says. “You did something to him and his friends.”
“They deserved what they got,” I mutter.
“Deserved what? What did they do to you? And what did you do to them?”
I snap my mouth shut and stare at my lap. No good to speak if it will only further Asher’s fear of me.
“Noah.”
The sound of my name on his tongue makes me look up.
He discards the sandwich on the side of the bed, and he asks, “What do you want from me?”
I sigh, relieved about the change in subject. “I just want to help you.”
“Well, maybe I don’t need your help.”
“You look like you do.”
He smiles wryly. “Why? Because I’m a junkie?”
I shrug. “It’s not a good path to take.”
“You think I don’t know that?” His face turns pink, eyes hardening.
“I’m not judging you.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“I told you; I’m just trying to help.”
“Fuck you,” he snarls, and I raise a brow. We sit in silence for a few moments, Asher’s breathing getting louder and louder until he blurts out, “Do you want to fuck me? Is that it?”
I blink, taken aback. “What? No.”
His mouth widens in a sly smile. “Well, why didn’t you just say so? I’m not gay, but I let a guy jack me off at a bar once when I was high and horny enough to get hard. If you promise to let me go, I’ll let you do a lot more than that.”
I shake my head. “That’s not what I want, Asher.”
“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You can’t just keep me here. You have to want something.”
“I want you to feel better.”
“Bullshit,” he snaps again, this time quieter, weaker, on the verge of tears. “You want me to suck you off? You want to suck me off? Go ahead.” He spreads his legs. “I’ll make you come, and then you’ll let me go. Deal?”
“No deal. I told you, that’s not what I want.”
“Fuck!” He flips to his back and writhes on the bed, groaning in anguish. “What, then? Want me to keep you company? Want me to kneel by your feet and be your little pet?”
A flush creeps up my neck. “No. I told you, I just—”
“Want me to get clean? Yeah, not gonna happen.”
“Not if I let you go, it won’t,” I argue. A pretty good point, if I do say so myself.
“This isn’t right, you know,” Asher mutters, staring up at the ceiling.
I tilt my head to the side. “It’s illegal, you mean?” Asher doesn’t strike me as someone who cares that much about the law.
“It’s illegal, yeah, but it’s immoral too.”
“Wouldn’t it be more immoral to let you go and let you destroy your life? You’ll end up like I found you, and next time, I won’t be there to save you.”
A darkness like storm clouds descends upon his face. He looks so angry. I don’t want him to be angry with me; I want him to like me. How can I make him understand the quiet desperation in my heart?
Don’t you get it, Goldilocks? Without you, I have nothing. Without you, I’ll give up, just like I was about to give up the night I found you?… ? You’re the sign from the universe that I should remain here, that I should keep fighting. You’re my only reason to cling to life.
I could tell him all this outright, but from my experience, although limited, oversharing my thoughts doesn’t usually improve people’s opinion of me.
Maybe later on, when my Goldilocks has calmed down, I’ll tell him.
He doesn’t seem susceptible to my arguments right now, anyway, no matter how true they are.
“How am I going to piss and shit, huh?” he asks with a sharp glare.
“I’ll bring a bucket.”
“Nice,” he scoffs, pulling his knees up to his chest. “People will start wondering where I am, you know.”
I fish his phone out of my pocket. “No, they won’t.”
“Hey! That’s mine!” He jumps from the bed, lunging at me, but the chain prevents him from reaching all the way. Good. I’d rather avoid using violence, but if I have to, I will.
“I unlocked it while you were passed out. With your fingerprint.”
“Fuck, you’re a creep,” he snaps, but the next moment, he pouts and asks, “Did Lilith text me?”
I nod.
“What did she say?”
I squint at the screen. “‘Where the hell did you go?’”
“That’s it? What did you reply?”
“‘It’s over. Don’t contact me.’”
“What the fuck, dude.” He settles down on the bed again and pulls his knees up.
“You don’t seem that upset.”
“Well, it was kind of over between us anyway. She cheated on me.”
“I figured. She wouldn’t have left you alone like that if she still cared about you.”
Asher buries his face in his knees, refusing to look at me.
“Are you cold?” I ask. This basement isn’t insulated properly, so the cold is always a problem in wintertime.
“No,” Asher says, voice muffled by his knees. “Fuck off.”
My Adam’s apple clicks audibly as I swallow.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he snaps. “Go away. I want to be alone.”
“I’ll bring you a bucket.”
“Yeah, you do that,” Asher says with a scathing tone, “and then leave me the fuck alone.”
I stand with my back hunched over, thoughts dark and displeased.
This wasn’t how I wanted this conversation to go at all—I had hoped my Goldilocks would understand that I only want what’s best for him.
That I would never hurt him. Until he understands, I’ll have to keep him close and under my watch.
In time, he’ll understand. In time, maybe I won’t even have to use handcuffs and chains to keep him here. I smile at the thought.
For the first time in ages, I imagine a future that doesn’t end with my body rotting in the forest. Even if Asher won’t like me, or cling to me the way I cling to him, or even understand how much he means to me, I dare to hope that finally, I have found something to live for.
Someone to take care of. Maybe even someone to love, even if he won’t love me back.