39. Dre
Chapter thirty-nine
Dre
T he bell rings, slicing through the cacophony of high school chaos like a knife. I watch her from across the hall—my snowflake. There's an elegance to her stride, but it's marred by something—a hitch in her step, a tremor in her hands as she clutches her books.
She glances at me, and for a moment, I think she might actually let her guard down. But then the walls slam back up, and she forces a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
I hate it. I want to claw through her icy exterior to the soft center. I want her to spill her guts willingly. I want her. And, I’m not sure how to make that happen. She’s not like any other girl I’ve ever encountered.
As we walk side by side, I can't shake the feeling that there's a storm brewing beneath her calm surface. I want to tear into whatever's haunting her, fight off the ghosts that cling to her like shadows, make them bleed until they can't touch her anymore. She's gotten under my skin—deep, dark, and inevitable.
But I see it. The weariness that weighs on her shoulders like chains, the pain that lurks behind her stoic mask. It calls to me, a siren song of shared suffering. I've danced with demons before, wrestled with the darkest parts of my soul until I was more scar than skin. And I'd do it again, become her personal devil if it meant I could chase away the ones that torment her.
My blood sings with a darkness that's been tamed but never broken. Even if she pushes everyone away, I'll stand by her. I'll suffocate her demons in shadows, drown them in the same darkness that runs through my veins. Because Addy... she's strong enough to stand alone.
But she doesn't have to. Not anymore.
??????
The gym echoes with the scuff of sneakers and the rhythmic thud of basketballs. I'm not participating—not my scene. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Addy being in this class. Instead, I lean against the bleachers, arms crossed, watching her. Addy moves among the others, a solitary figure wrapped in an aura of cold detachment.
I mutter to myself, tracing the lines of her form with my gaze. She's changed, filled out where sharp angles used to jut from her too-thin frame. It's subtle, but it's there. Muscle has woven itself over her bones, a testament to a strength that's more than physical. Yet there's a fragility about her that tugs at something in my chest—a fierce protectiveness I didn't know I had.
Ice Princess. They're not exactly wrong. My snowflake, she's strong, made of ice, but even the strongest glacier can crack under enough pressure.
"Addy, keep your back straight!" The coach’s bark cuts through the noise, aiming to correct her posture. But I see what he doesn’t—the wince as she adjusts, the slight tremble in her limbs. Pain flickers across her features, so quick anyone else would miss it.
I push away from the wall, a silent predator ready to pounce—not on her, but for her. My muscles coil as I track her every movement. Then it happens. Her balance falters during a lunge, her body giving in to the silent agony she's been fighting to hide.
"Shit," I hiss, launching forward. Time slows, my heart thundering in my ears. I close the distance between us, sliding into place just as gravity claims her.
"Gotcha," I breathe out as I catch her before she crashes to the ground.
"Dre..." Her voice is strained, a mix of confusion and the stubborn pride I’ve come to expect from her.
"Don't talk. Just... let me handle this." I steady her against me, feeling the rapid beat of her heart against my chest. She's all fire and ice, burning bright even as she shivers in my arms.
"Thanks, but I don't need you to save me," she insists, trying to push away, but I tighten my hold, not ready to let go.
"I'm no knight in shining armor, snowflake," I reply, keeping my voice low. "But sometimes it's okay to lean on someone else. Even if it's just to catch your breath."
"Who needs a knight with shining armor? They've never seen battle. Girls should want a knight in dented armor."
"Snowflake."
She looks up at me, those green eyes piercing through the veil of her usual indifference. For a moment, I think I see gratitude there, maybe fear. I just hope it's not me she's afraid of.
"Fine," she concedes, her body still leaning on mine for support. "But only until I can stand on my own."
"Deal," I say, knowing full well that helping her now doesn't mean she won't be standing tall and unassailable tomorrow. Because that's who Adelaide Winthrop is: the Ice Princess, with a heart full of scars and a will made of steel.
Before she has a chance to protest further, I scoop Addy up in my arms, ignoring the daggers she throws from her eyes. "Put me down, Dre," she hisses, pushing against my chest with feeble strength.
"Stop being stubborn," I grunt, adjusting my hold on her as we make our way out of the gymnasium. I can feel the weight of her gaze, heavy with unspoken words and pride that refuses to crack even now. But beneath it all, there's a silent plea, a whisper of thanks that she'd never voice out loud.
I can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness, an almost murderous rage at the thought of anyone or anything causing her pain. I may be a monster, born from shadows and inked in scars, but I am her monster, and I'll fight every demon that haunts her.
I push our way into the girls' locker room and grab her things before texting Saint and Chess. They're waiting for us the second we exit into the hallway.
"Let's take my car," Saint suggests, already fishing his keys out of his pocket.
"Fine," I relent, shifting Addy so I can open the passenger door. Despite her protests, I know she doesn’t have the strength to walk, let alone stand.
"Really, I'm okay," Addy tries again, but her voice is frail, betraying her words.
"Addy, just... shut up for once and let us help," Chess says softly, opening the back door and sliding inside.
"Sorry, Snowflake," I whisper into her ear, not missing the shiver that runs through her as I secure her seatbelt. "You're not in this alone. Not anymore."
I meet Saint's eyes over the roof of the car, seeing my own determination mirrored there. We’re in this together, a pact sealed without words. We will carry her through hell if that's what it takes.
She might have started out as a job, a game. But that's not what this is anymore.
She snorts and crosses her arms over her chest in defiance. She doesn't believe me. My solitary little snowflake. She's been alone for so long. Why would she believe us?
I wouldn't if I were her.
I turn my body toward her and put my hand over her throat. She stiffens at my touch, but I know it's not because she doesn't like it. If her hair weren't hiding her face, I'd see the heat burning in her eyes.
"Look at me," I press my thumb under her chin to turn her face my way. When she fights, I run my fingers into her thick hair and grip the roots. The intake of breath makes my cock twitch.
"Come on, baby, look at me."
Addy's eyes finally meet mine, a mixture of defiance and vulnerability swirling within their depths. Fuck, she's beautiful. How did I ever stay away?
"You. Are. Not. Alone. You're not as cold as you want them to believe, Addy," I murmur, the gravel in my voice sending a shiver down her spine. "I see the cracks in the ice, the fissures in your armor. You can pretend all you want, but I'm not going anywhere. I've got my own darkness, my own twisted corners, and they've wrapped themselves around you so tight you'll never unravel them."
A spark of something ignites in her eyes, a mix of frustration and a hint of surrender. "And, if I don't want your help?"
"I'm the beast in the shadows, and I've already claimed you. You can fight it, resist it, but in the end, you'll realize there's no escaping."
"You're insane."
I chuckle, the sound low and dark. "Maybe I am. But so are you, in your own way. We're not the heroes of this story, Addy. We're the ones who thrive in the chaos, revel in the shadows. And whether you like it or not, we're in this together."
I press my lips against hers, an insatiable hunger that can only be sated with her taste. Time seems to slow, unfolding in a slow, deliberate dance. The taste of her lingers on my tongue. I will never get enough of her.
She responds with equal fervor, a wild electricity passing between our entwined bodies. Her hands find their way into my hair, fingers entangling in the strands, pulling me closer as if to erase any remaining distance between us. I feel the heat of her skin against mine, the beating of her heart.
The boundaries that once separated us dissolve. The darkness within me, the shadows that define my existence, meld with hers.
As our lips part, Addy's eyes are swirling. Fear. Longing. Hope.
I cup her face in my hands, my touch gentle yet firm. Our lips touch again with a gentleness I've rarely felt.
"We're here." Saint calls from the front.
"And we're not fucking going anywhere, Snowflake."
"No, dickface. We're here. Literally."
And then the shadows break. She tilts her head back and lets out a joyous laugh, the lines around her eyes crinkling as she beams.
I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful.
I'm out of the car before Saint kills the engine, and I'm at her side just as fast. The protest forms on my snowflake's lips, but it dies when she sees my face.
"Come on," I urge gently, offering my hands to her. She looks up at me, those green eyes flickering with a storm of emotions I can't quite name.
"Really, Dre, I can walk," she insists, though her voice quakes like a leaf in the wind.
"Indulge me," I counter, my tone brooking no argument. I wrap an arm around her waist, steadying her as she slides out of the seat. She leans into me more than she probably intends, her body instinctively seeking support. It's a small victory, but it feels monumental.
We move toward the diner entrance, my hand never leaving her back. I can feel every fragile rib through her thin jacket, and it reminds me of what's at stake. She's more breakable than she lets on, but she's also stubbornly independent. It's a dangerous combination that both frustrates and fascinates me.
Chess is a few steps behind us, but Saint is still sitting in the car. I turn back toward him, but Chess pats my back.
"He's not okay," he tells me quietly. "Just...give him a minute."
"Right."
"Thank you," my snowflake murmurs, so quiet I almost miss it over the low hum of conversation from inside the diner.
"For what?" I ask, genuinely puzzled as I pull open the door for us.
"For... not letting go," she says, and it's almost drowned out by the sudden swell of noise as we step inside.
I don't let go. Not when we're greeted by the smell of greasy food and the sight of vinyl booths. Not when Chess nods toward our usual spot in the back corner. And definitely not when the waitress gives us a knowing smile, one that tells me she recognizes the storm brewing beneath my calm exterior.
"Anytime," I tell Addy, and I mean it. Her battle is mine now, whether she's ready to accept it or not. We'll take it one step at a time, starting with keeping her upright as we navigate to our table, tucked away from prying eyes.