Chapter Ten
Noir
Idon’t sleep.
Not really.
The apartment stays dark except for the low blue glow of the TV bleeding across concrete walls and polished floors while rain taps steadily against the balcony windows.
Somewhere below, the city keeps moving anyway.
Tires hissing across wet pavement. Headlights dragging through the streets in long blurred streaks beneath the building.
Dagger passed out maybe an hour ago stretched across the opposite couch, one tattooed arm hanging off the side while some shitty late-night horror movie flickers forgotten across the screen.
Even asleep, he still looks tense.
Jaw tight.
Brows pulled slightly together.
Like his body never fully learned how to relax without expecting violence afterward.
Protective even unconscious.
Doesn’t surprise me.
If anything I can relate.
I sit near the balcony door with a cigarette burning low between my fingers while smoke curls slowly toward the ceiling, ocean air drifting through the apartment cold and damp from the storm outside.
Every couple minutes, my eyes drift toward the hallway.
Toward Dagger’s bedroom where Blair’s asleep.
I’ve crossed the apartment more times than I’ll admit tonight just to check she’s still there.
Curled up beneath Dagger’s blankets.
Still asleep.
Still breathing.
Not because I think she’s actually capable of sneaking past both of us in her current condition, but because every time I see her still there, something tight and ugly inside my chest loosens a little.
The realization should probably concern me more than it does.
That I’m sitting here at four in the morning making sure Blair hasn’t disappeared again like some paranoid fucking guard dog.
But every time I close my eyes, all I can picture is waking up to an empty apartment.
Her gone. Again.
Somehow that possibility feels worse than admitting the truth.
Because somewhere along the line, this stopped being grief.
That’s the part eating me alive tonight. Not the obsession, or the possessiveness.
Not even the fact I’d bury half this city myself before letting Dante touch her again.
It’s the realization that Blair stopped feeling like Brynne’s shadow a long fucking time ago.
This isn’t projection anymore.
Isn’t guilt, or me trying to hold onto pieces of her sister through her.
This is Blair.
Mouthy.
Chaotic.
Funny when she doesn’t even mean to be.
Always pretending she’s fine while actively self-destructing in front of everybody.
The way she dances like she’s trying to outrun herself, and the way she pushes people just to see if they’ll stay.
And after what we did to her, the way she keeps looking at me like she expects me to disappear again.
I’m obsessed with her completely separate from Brynne now, and honestly?
That realization scares me more than Dante ever has.
Because it means this thing growing between the three, regardless of how messy and difficult it is, it isn't temporary anymore.
It’s real.
Dangerously fucking real.
Rain keeps hammering steadily against the windows while cigarette after cigarette burns down beside me, hours slipping past before Dagger finally shifts across the room and blinks awake sometime close to seven.
His eyes immediately flick toward the hallway.
Checking for her.
Always checking for her.
“She awake?”
I shake my head once.
“No.”
He rubs a hand slowly down his face before standing, exhaustion dragging through every movement.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters roughly. “Gotta piss.”
He disappears down the hallway while I crush another cigarette out beside the balcony door.
A minute later the toilet flushes.
Cupboard doors shut harder than necessary.
Then he comes back out looking just as tired and irritated as he did when he passed out, dark hair a mess while he heads straight for the kitchen.
The fridge opens and old light spills across the apartment while he stares into it blankly for a second before grabbing a bottle of water.
“I’m gonna head out for a bit,” he says after taking a long drink. “Got some shit to handle. I’ll grab food while I’m out.”
My eyes narrow slightly.
“Crew?” I ask quietly.
“Yeah.” Dagger takes another drink before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna handle the piece of shit on my crew who sold her shit the other night.”
No argument there, if I had it my way he’d be eating a curb right now.
His jaw tightens harder after that.
“And I wanna stop by her motel. Grab her shit and see if Dante or his guys have been poking around there yet.”
“Well shit, for once I wish I could go with you,” I admit quietly. “Cause honestly? I’d love the chance to hurt somebody right now.”
Dagger snorts faintly under his breath like he expected that answer.
“But,” I continue, glancing briefly toward the hallway, “we both know we can’t leave her here alone.”
Dagger grabs his keys from the counter while silence settles briefly through the apartment.
Not comfortable silence either.
Heavy, and complicated.
Because we both know exactly how fucked this situation is becoming now.
Blair asleep down the hall while we stand here quietly agreeing to keep her locked inside this apartment for her own safety like that somehow isn’t completely insane behavior.
Dagger notices the shift too.
The ugly realization neither of us has bothered saying out loud yet.
“It’s not ideal, and I know she fucking hates it. Probably hates us for it, but she’s safer here,” he says finally.
“I know.”
“And together—”
“I said know.”
His jaw tightens slightly like the words physically irritate him.
Probably because they irritate me too.
Neither of us likes this. We don’t like each other much either.
But Blair alive matters more than whatever rivalry’s still rotting between us.
Dagger’s eyes hold mine another second before he nods once. Then he leaves.
The apartment feels wrong immediately afterward.
Too quiet and empty.
I fucking hate it.
I light another cigarette near the balcony while morning rain drifts through the cracked door carrying ocean air and wet concrete into the apartment.
Movement sounds down the hallway a while later.
Then Blair appears, and fuck.
She’s wearing Dagger’s clothes again.
One of his oversized black hoodies hangs nearly to mid-thigh over dark boxers sitting low on her hips while her split pink and purple hair spills messily around her shoulders, sleep still clinging faintly to her face.
She pauses the second she realizes Dagger’s gone.
Then narrows her eyes at me suspiciously.
“Why do you look like you’re about to commit a crime?”
“I already did,” I answer calmly.
Before she can react, I stand and cross the apartment, hooking my fingers into the hem of Dagger’s hoodie.
Blair blinks once.
“What the fuck are you—”
I pull it smoothly over her head before she can finish.
Her hair falls messily around her shoulders again while she stares at me in complete confusion, now standing there in nothing but black boxers and attitude.
Then I strip my own shirt off and toss Dagger’s hoodie onto the couch behind her.
“What are you doing?” she repeats slower this time, eyes immediately dragging across my chest.
I ignore that entirely and tug the black shirt over her head instead, pulling it down over her thighs.
“If we’re both apparently keeping you alive now,” I mutter while straightening the fabric slightly, “you can wear my clothes too. Doesn’t always have to be his.”
Silence.
Then Blair’s mouth twitches slowly.
Oh no.
That expression never means anything good.
Her eyes drag deliberately over my bare chest before flicking back upward again, amusement and something way more mischievous settling across her face instantly.
“Wow,” she says softly. “Possessive and petty. Love that journey for you.”
I roll my eyes.
“You were literally asleep in his clothes.”
“And now I’m awake in yours.” She glances down at the shirt dramatically. “Honestly? Huge moment for the group project.”
“Blair.”
“What?” she asks innocently while smoothing her hands slowly down the front of my shirt. “I’m just saying, if you two keep this up, I’m gonna stop knowing who I stole clothes from. It’s cute. Love me a shared custody situation.”
I snort softly despite myself.
Blair notices immediately.
“There he is.”
Then she slips past me toward the balcony.
Cold ocean air immediately pushes through the apartment while rain taps steadily against the glass outside. She leans against the railing wearing my shirt now instead of Dagger’s, pink and purple hair blowing around her face while the city glows below in neon reflections and wet pavement.
The sight settles something ugly and possessive low in my chest instantly.
Mine now too.
Dangerous thought.
I head back toward the balcony chair afterward, dropping into it with a cigarette between my fingers while Blair stays outside another minute watching the city below us.
Then eventually she wanders back inside barefoot.
Restless again.
Of course she is.
She disappears into the kitchen briefly before reappearing dramatically in the balcony doorway.
“I’m bored,” she announces.
I glance toward her once before looking back out over the city.
“Tragic.”
“Noir.”
“Hm.”
“This feels like emotional imprisonment.”
“You literally have Netflix.”
“That’s not the point.”
I exhale smoke slowly while she keeps pacing.
Restless energy practically vibrating off her now.
She notices me watching eventually and narrows her eyes immediately.
“What?”
“You’re itching.”
She crosses the balcony slowly keeping her eyes locked on mine before stopping directly between my knees while ocean wind pushes her split pink and purple hair around her face.
Rain mist clings lightly to her bare thighs beneath the city lights.
Beautiful fucking girl.
Dangerous too.
Mostly to me at this point.
“What do you want, little addict?” I ask quietly. “Tell me how to help with that itch of yours,”
Her mouth curves slowly.
“Attention.”
Honest at least.
I take another drag from the cigarette while looking up at her.