Chapter 26
Mila
“ I ’ m coming!” I shout at my dorm room door, hoping my voice carries through the living room and reaches the front door.
The only thing I miss about having a roommate is someone to open the door for me. My last roommate has been gone for months after finally pissing off Dash enough. Every time he came to my room to sleep on the floor, she tried to trap him in the living room to flirt with him. It was pathetic to witness, and I was thrilled when I came home one day and noticed her room was empty.
Shit, where is my new sketchbook? And why the heck is Damian twenty minutes early?
I look around my room. Calling it a mess would be an understatement. Basically, it ’ s a reflection of my love life.
I toss my clothes, scattering some to the floor as I search for it. There you are! I snatch it from the bed and rush with my art bag in hand to the door.
“ What ’ s up?” I greet Damian. He seems happier lately; some of the shadows in his eyes have vanished.
“ I um,” He flashes me a weary grin. “ I came early to warn you.”
My stomach plummets.
“ Dash is going to escort you to art class tonight.”
“ Oh!” Did that kiss work?
It ’ s always Titan or Damian who walks me to class.
Never Dash.
Dash can ’ t be seen with me, but his threats are known. I ’ m off-limits to everyone. My only friend who doesn ’ t have King as their last name is Blaze, and Dash only allows that because Blaze took a knife in the stomach for me.
Some days, I wish I had a sister, some other female I could trust and spill my guts out to.
Damian ’ s eyes regard me. “ You finally did something, didn ’ t you?” he states with a slow-growing smirk.
I smirk. “ Maybe,” I look him in the eye, “ I don ’ t know if I have the confidence to do what needs to be done,” I whisper. “ How can I throw myself on someone who verbally says he hates me?”
Damian ’ s grin dips. “ You and I both know he doesn ’ t hate you.”
“ Do you really think it ’ s working?”
“ He ’ s hanging onto his insanity by a thread; he ’ s starting to think correctly. He knows he can ’ t live without you, Mila. Thus, the need to walk you to class tonight.” Damian looks down the hall. “ I should get going. Try to act surprised when his pretty face greets you at the door.”
Damian’s halfway down the hall when I shout his name. He glances over his shoulder. “ Are you seeing someone?” I ask.
His face hardens. “ Is it that obvious?”
“ Is that a bad thing?” I joke as I drop my art bag and take two steps toward him, “ Who are you seeing?” I question. I ’ m a little hurt he didn ’ t tell me.
His eyes fall to the floor as if I just gave him devastating news. He shakes his head. “ No one.” He mutters as he turns and leaves.
◆◆◆
I lean against the wall of my dorm, waiting for Dash to come. I ’ ve checked my face in the mirror ten times already.
“ This is insane.” Waiting for him is doing what he wants. I need to ripple the waters.
I swing my bag over my shoulder, open the door, and proceed to walk to my evening art class alone. I haven ’ t been able to walk on my own for so long that my confidence has suffered. I ’ m halfway to the art studio when I stop and look across the campus to the other dorm building.
Dom ’ s building.
My breath shakes at the memory. My bag slips off my shoulder, and I set it next to my feet. I think about the fun times Dom and I had.
Was it all a lie, or was part of it real, lost in his twisted game?
My palm presses to the scar on my stomach. The image of Dash ’ s face, watching me bleed, keeps replaying in my mind. His eyes that day reflected a silent terror that still clings to the depths of his soul.
How can I convince him to be fearless, not to be afraid to love me? How do I promise him I won ’ t get hurt when it ’ s out of my control? That loving me won ’ t hurt me, but help me. I wish he could just love me openly.
A tear slips from my eye. Is it a happy tear? Grief filled?
I don ’ t know.
A sudden exhale behind me makes me turn, sending my sketchbook crashing to the floor. Dash stands there, his blonde hair seemingly rivaling the glowing moon, while his presence threatens to overtake the sky. It ’ s breathtakingly cold and stunning.
“ Don ’ t ever leave without one of us again!” He snaps, and then his eyes spot my tears before they move to the dorm room behind me.
He thinks I’m crying over Dom.
“ I…” another tear frees itself. “ I don ’ t know what ’ s wrong with me.” I inhale a slow, sharp breath. “ I attract men who want to kill me.” I snort a vulnerable chuckle.
“ And ones who want to keep you alive,” He mutters.
“ Kiss me,” My whisper is carried to him on the gentle breeze that ruffles the large oak tree near us.
“ Go to class.”
My next gulp is hard. “ Make me,” I challenge him.
His head tilts slowly, eyes tracing my face and then my body to his memory. His fist clench so tight that some of his knuckles crack. “ You ’ re a fool fighting a battle you can ’ t win.” He steps closer, raw and assured. “ I don ’ t want you. Not after you slept with him.” He spits, his eyes flickering back to the dorm Dom lived in.
He ’ s trying to hurt me. Don ’ t listen to it.
“ I might be a fool,” I step closer, tipping my chin up, “ bu…but at least I fight with honor and purpose.” My eyes water with bitter tears.
“ There ’ s no room for honor in our world, little fox. Do you think a hunter will catch you and then let you go? A fun game of catch and release?”
Another step.
I can see his features better now. The bruise on his jaw, a faint reminder of the fight club he and his cousins attend, is barely visible against his sharp cheekbones and watchful eyes.
“ They ’ ll strip you bare and pillage everything you have before they kill you,” He whispers in misery, his shoulders shaking, biceps bulging, his mind clearly replaying the source of his torment.
Is that what he ’ s scared of?
“ You think being tied to you will harm me?” That ’ s the root of his hate. Relief jolts through my heart. It wasn ’ t totally what I did. This isn ’ t just anger that I moved on when he left.
He rolls his eyes, then bends down and grabs my sketchbook before he shoves it into my bag. “ Walk.”
“ Look at our past, Dash. People tried to hurt me long before you came into my life. You ’ re living in fear.”
“ Walk!” He growls.
“ You ’ re scared one of your enemies will catch me then kill me.”
“ Shut up!” He yells, glaring down at me.
I close the distance with my hand, reaching for his bicep. He flinches my touch off him.
Finally, I have an answer to his stubbornness. It ’ s fear, and you know what? I can ’ t guarantee that it won ’ t happen.
How can I fix that? Can I force him to enjoy the days we have together and not live in fear?
I grab my bag from his hand, making sure to touch his fingers so he will remember my touch when I leave.
“ You don ’ t have to worry about an enemy killing me,” I state slowly as I cup his cheek, looking him dead in the eye. He doesn ’ t shake me off this time, allowing my touch.
When I push up on my toes, his nostrils flare, his eyes close, and what appears to be peace washes over his face.
I want to kiss him, but I won ’ t.
He ’ s going to make the next move. I just need to taunt him enough.
My next words are stated with a clear confidence that is rarely possessed by my tongue. “ You ’ re doing it yourself.”