Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
DAKOTA
I didn’t want to tell Micah what Mason was doing to me—what he’d already done to me. All the things I’d let him do and all the things I didn’t let him do, that he did anyway. None of it ever stopped me from going right back to him, and admitting that to Micah made me feel like shit.
He was showering now while I sat on his bed, doing my makeup in a small mirror. Yesterday had been productive enough in terms of my homework, but I had a shift at the gas station today. Micah was going to drop me off once he’d finished getting ready.
He and Nick were working in the lab for most of the day today, and I was grateful to have an excuse not to be there.
I didn’t have a problem with Nick, but I didn’t have the strength to pretend to feel nothing for Micah today.
I needed him like a pathetic baby, and it sucked when I had to act like I didn’t for so many hours in a row.
When I heard the shower turn off, I got off the bed and padded around to the bathroom in my socks, then knocked on the door.
Micah opened it wearing just a towel around his hips, steamy air billowing out.
“I need to pee,” I said. He stepped to the side and let me pass him.
I unbuttoned my jeans, then tugged them down with my underwear and sat on the toilet, looking over at Micah’s razor on the counter.
He had a safety razor, the type with a single blade, which always made me nervous.
I didn’t understand the name whatsoever.
But it did fit into his sophisticated lifestyle.
“Are you going to be bothered if I shave my face now?” he teased.
“No. I just don’t know why anyone would think that’s safer than a regular razor.”
“Thankfully, that’s not really something I need to worry about.” He rubbed shave gel on his jaw.
“Doesn’t it hurt, though? If you cut yourself?”
“Yeah. But it heals so fast it hardly matters.”
“I still think you’re weird for using that type.” I looked away as he brought the razor to his cheek. Micah laughed.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I mean, what if you cut the fuck out of your chin?”
“Then I cut the fuck out of my chin and it’s fine a few minutes later.”
“Okay…” I sighed and stood up, then squeezed next to Micah at the sink to wash my hands. “Will you be ready soon?”
“Give me five minutes.”
I left the bathroom, did the last few steps of my makeup routine in the mirror over the dresser, then packed up my stuff and went downstairs to fill my water bottle. Micah joined me shortly, and we went out to his truck together. It was chilly outside, but not quite cold enough for my big coat yet.
At the gas station, Micah kissed my forehead, then slapped my ass as I got out of the truck. I gave him a dirty look through the windshield while walking around the hood of the truck towards the glass door covered in advertisements.
Eric appeared grateful at my arrival. “Hey!”
“Hi, Eric,” I said and punched in. “Busy?”
“Nope. Pretty chill today. Do you need anything from me before I head back into the office?”
“All good. See you in a bit.” I smiled, then took my seat on the stool behind the register, taking my phone out of my pocket and powering it on. There was already a notification from Mason waiting for me.
Mason
I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you
The message should’ve made me feel better. It was what I wanted. But everything was getting harder to navigate while simultaneously never slowing down. We were hurtling down a very specific path, one that narrowed and narrowed towards a single point, and I couldn’t really stop it.
Me
It’s too late for that
My phone started vibrating with an incoming call from Mason; I declined it. His typing bubble instantly popped back up and I squeezed my phone tighter.
Mason
I’m so fucking sorry
Me
I don’t trust you. I’m not safe with you, and it’s not fun anymore
My eyes stung as I typed the message, so I turned my phone off and set it facedown on the countertop, casting my gaze out over the crumbling parking lot.
There weren’t any cars parked or filling up on gas, but I did see a tiny onyx blur darting along the curb.
I sprung off my seat with a smile on my face, heading towards the back door.
“Eric, I’m taking my break!” I shouted over my shoulder towards the closed door of the office, grabbing a little pack of wet cat food on my way out.
He yelled something back, but I wasn’t sure what. Maybe something about how I’d only been working for two minutes. I didn’t slow my pace.
“Bug!” I exclaimed as I pushed outside.
The little black cat wove herself around my legs, going in circles and rubbing her face on my calves, purring loudly.
“I missed you, baby,” I cooed, kneeling on the pavement to pet her small face, scratching behind her ears and smoothing my palm over the soft fur on her back. “Where have you been?”
She meowed, nuzzling my hand.
I tore open the pouch of food and squeezed a little bit out of the top, letting Bug lick the packaging.
“Sometimes I wonder if you only like me because I steal food for you, but then again, so does Eric—” The door opened behind me, making me grin. “—and you don’t like him nearly as much as you like me.”
“Dakota!” Eric said, mock-offended at my jab.
“Whoops. I didn’t know you were standing there.” I craned my neck to look up at him behind me.
“I just came out to see our little lady for the first time in a few weeks, only to find you two have wasted zero time before you start shit-talkin’ me again. I’m gonna start making you pay for that food,” he warned, but the corners of his eyes crinkled with amusement.
Eric squatted down next to me and ran his knuckles over Bug’s head as she happily ate her wet food.
A thought entered my head. Eric was double my age, yes. But Mason and Micah were double Eric’s age. It was so strange to think about I had to press my lips together so I wouldn’t laugh. He seemed older than them somehow.
“Something funny?” Eric looked over at me, noting the humor in my expression.
“Nope.”
“Suit yourself. And refill the windshield washer fluid when you go back, please. Elliot forgot it at the start of the week.”
“Well, make Elliot do it, then.”
“He’s not here until late tonight. What if somebody needs to clean their windshield before then?” Eric widened his eyes, as if the idea carried with it an unspeakable amount of horror. “Then what, butterfly? They’re going to give us a bad review.”
“The star average of this place is already kinda shit, Eric. I hope you know that.”
He sighed. “Those people just don’t understand the vibe I’m makin’ here.”
“The run-down vibe,” I surmised. “The peeling paint vibe. The understaffed vibe.”
Eric looked at me with a straight face, which made me laugh.
“I’m sorry,” I said through giggles.
Eric just shook his head, raking his hand through his hair, a dry laugh escaping under his breath. “I choose to blame the previous owner of this shithole. He left the finances in such disarray it’s a miracle we didn’t close down entirely.”
“Well, good job fixing the finances.”
The sound of tires crunching on gravel had my gaze snapping to Eric’s. I quickly put the tip of my pointer finger on my nose; he rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed exhale. Nose goes.
“Fine. You enjoy Bug.” Eric gave her one last little pat on the head, then disappeared inside.
I let Bug lick more of the food, enjoying her constant purring and tail flicks.
But the thought of my phone lying on the counter next to the register put a pit in my stomach, reminding me of all the sickening knots my relationship with Mason had developed.
He was my festering wound, the one I couldn’t stop picking at.
If I was stronger, smarter, more stable, I might’ve been able to detach myself from him. I might’ve been capable of realizing that this wasn’t worth the suffering.
But I was none of those things, and he felt worth every bit of suffering.
I’d never met a person who was such a dark mirror of myself the way Mason was. He reflected all my worst desires back at me, breathing smoke on the glass, concealing everything outside our shared depravity. On the rare occasion I was alone in my bed at night, I still thought about his gun.
Unyielding, cold metal kissing my vulnerable temple.
My whole life trapped under the press of his index finger.
The edge of my entire existence on Earth, sharpened and gleaming, held to my tender skin by Mason’s steady hand. So much fear in my head that it was impossible to think of anything else. Adrenaline pouring into my hot blood, the brutal pumping of my heart, the desperate heave of my lungs.
Or my head shoved below water…
Liquid pushing at my lips, my hair tangling in the waves, my brain going dark with oxygen deprivation. Mason’s face above it all, staring down at me through the choppy surface.
Stop.
I dragged in a deep breath.
I wasn’t sure there was another person on Earth who understood how it felt to drown with Mason Ashborn, who might understand the indelible obsession for it clawing at my soul. I wasn’t sure I even understood it myself.
My eyes cast upwards, towards the gloomy sky, clouds swirling.
People like us shouldn’t be together.
We’ll just keep sinking forever.
I didn’t want to think like this. The logical parts of my brain wanted to shove Mason into a box and keep him there, categorize him as the thing that kept hurting me.
But all the stupid parts of my brain kept thinking about how it felt for him to drag me out of the water, to pull me up towards air, to save me.
He was never supposed to consume all of me like this, but he did.
I stood up, brushing my palms off on my jeans, gave Bug a final head scratch, then slipped inside the gas station.
I walked through the inside, then out the front to refill the windshield wiper fluid buckets, before relieving Eric of cashier duty.
My phone was still sitting there, on the counter, threatening me, tempting me with bad decisions.
Picking it up, I scrolled through my notifications.
Mason
Don’t say that, baby. Please don’t fucking say that
Mason
I can keep you safe. You know I’d never kill you, right? I told you that. Do you not believe me?
Mason
Dakota?
Mason
I want to talk to you. Don’t shut me out
Mason
Baby?
Sucking in a shaky breath, I stared at the screen, my trembling thumbs hovering just above the glass. What could I say? What did I want to say? Where were we going from here? There wasn’t much more ground left for us to cover before I ended up dead. Was I ready for that?
The choice was in my hands.
I didn’t want to give in to him so easily. He was getting worse than ever before, and I needed to fucking breathe for a second. Remembering how I felt in the bathroom waiting for him to break the door down made me nauseous. He was too violent. Too scary.
But he was mine. Wasn’t he?
God, I’m sick in the head.
I tapped out a message, then sent it, chewing my lower lip anxiously.
Me
I’m at work.
He didn’t start typing right away, which made me nervous. But wasn’t this what I wanted? Space to breathe? A second to myself?
No.
Come back.
I don’t want to be alone.
I swiped over to my messages with Micah, making a mental note to take a picture of him later to set as his contact photo since it was still blank.
Me
Are you busy?
It was a stupid question, because I knew he was busy. I just…felt off. All my bad memories wouldn’t leave my head, nor would all the sick thoughts that accompanied them. I hated the way I processed the things happening to me.
Micah
I’m still in the lab. What’s up?
Me
Nothing. Sorry
I was biting my lip obsessively now, scraping my teeth over pieces of dry skin, circling my fingers around my phone even tighter.
Micah
I’m going to swing by in a few minutes. Need to pick up some lunch. Is that alright with you?
Me
Yes. That’s fine
With the trembling of my hands lessening, I set my phone down and sat on the stool behind the register.
I liked how Micah did that. Sometimes, he just told me what he was going to do, instead of asking if I wanted him to, soothing me with some false excuse.
I’d gotten much better at accepting his care, but this practice was a relic of my instincts to refuse help.
A minivan pulled into the parking lot, three children emerging with bedhead and neck pillows on.
They complained and stretched their legs while their mom gathered up fast food trash from the backseats.
It made me think about Ivan and Ekaterina again.
She’d gotten her abortion now, but there’d been a time when this could’ve been her life.
I wondered if the mom corralling her three tired kids outside the gas station would’ve picked this life if she had the chance to go back.
Then I wondered how my own mother felt.
She probably wouldn’t have picked to raise a daughter in a shitty trailer with an abusive husband, but she probably didn’t get much choice. If not my father, then another man. If not me, then another child. I didn’t want to end up like that.
I was determined not to.
Ironic, considering how I let Mason hurt me the way he did.
But he didn’t live in a trailer, and he couldn’t get me pregnant. So no matter what, there would be no child for me to accidentally pass the cycle down to.
The sound of the electronic doorbell snapped me out of my thoughts, and I pressed my lips together in a quick smile at the mother as she dragged her children towards the bathroom.
Then I grabbed a disinfectant wipe and busied myself cleaning all the counters. Anything to distract my brain.