Chapter 21
I don’t want to leave him.
Though I feel like such a creep right now .
Sitting on the bed with my legs crossed under me, I rest my weight on my elbows even while I roll Moro’s ears between my fingers, thumbs stroking at the soft fur.
She’s still half asleep, breathing deeply while surreptitiously worming her way closer and closer to my warm spot that I’ll be leaving behind when I commit to getting up.
But I can’t stop staring at Cairo, who’s well and truly sleeping for the first time that I’ve seen.
Even when he stayed over before, I wasn’t convinced he slept.
But with his lips parted softly and his eyelashes fluttering with dreams, or maybe nightmares, he looks so human in my bed.
His sharp teeth are barely visible, and his inhumanly dark, reflective eyes are hidden from me under the sweep of his long lashes.
I can’t help watching him. While I don’t consider myself some kind of creepy stalker who watches the guy I fucked while he sleeps the next morning, I still can’t tear my eyes away. At least until he sighs, and his mouth quirks up into a soft, rueful grin.
“You’re being weird, little bird,” Cairo murmurs sleepily, reaching one arm out toward me across the bed until he can brush my thigh.
“Don’t you think it’s a little obsessive of you to watch me while I sleep?
” The white of the bandages I applied to the worst of his wounds is, at least, still pretty clean.
“I’ve only been doing it for like a minute,” I lie, not wanting to admit it’s been longer than that. His claws skim against my skin, and his smile widens.
“Sure you have.” There’s a purr in his voice, and when he finally opens his eyes, they’re so dark that they’re almost black. With a jolt, I realize that the dark circles under his eyes are back in full force, after they’d faded after the asylum attack.
But now they’re worse than I’ve ever seen them.
“Cairo…” I lean toward him, invading his personal space without hesitation. “Holy shit, you look like you haven’t slept in?—”
He sighs and buries his face sullenly in my pillow. “Thanks for the compliment,” he grumbles, cutting me off. “Really makes me think you like me.”
“Probably about as much as you like me,” I agree, pressing my hand to his shoulder, trying to get him to roll over. “Come on.”
“No. Don’t you have therapy?” He turns just enough to roll his eyes up at me and reaches one hand down to scratch Moro’s ears. “Moro and I are completely fine here.”
He’s definitely in a mood, and it’s more than just his usual sarcasm.
But if I had a hole bitten in my throat, I probably wouldn’t be in too great of a mood either.
So I sigh, not particularly offended, and lean down to kiss his cheek lightly, feeling him melt a little with a soft purr at my affection. “I’m fine, Fern,” he promises me.
“Yeah, I figure if you made it through the night, you must be telling the truth.” Sitting up, I go to move, only to be surprised when he grabs my wrist and yanks me back down until I’m on my back on the bed, and release a small gasp.
Cairo hovers over me, searching my face. “You shouldn’t get so attached,” he breathes suddenly, gazing down at me from those dark eyes that seem like black holes. “You’re already too attached.”
“Then so are you,” I’m quick to respond, trying to sit up. But he stops me with a hand at the base of my neck, and Cairo looms over me, hovering and looking over all of me he can see. It makes me feel vulnerable in a way I can’t explain.
“Yeah,” he agrees at last, a rueful smirk tugging at his lips. “Little bird…” His thumb strokes the hollow of my throat, as he seems to consider his words. “Don’t come out to the woods tonight,” he says at last, his eyes holding mine. “Because you won’t find me there.”
“What do you mean?” His words only stir more confusion in me, especially when he leans closer and I can feel his breath against my lips. Cairo kisses me sweetly, his teeth sharp against my mouth, and pulls back with a sigh.
“You’ll find what I am when I’m not holding back for you.”
With that he licks over my lower lip, and before I can reply he rolls off of me to curl up under the blankets again. This time, Moro abandons all signs of being subtle, and burrows herself under the covers with him with a huff of satisfaction once she’s stretched out against Cairo.
“Ridiculous.” I sigh, watching both of them do their best imitation of sentient lumps.
“I don’t know why you’re trying to scare me, but you’re being ridiculous .
” Cairo doesn’t reply, and Moro doesn’t come out.
But it’s a bit of a relief to leave her here with him, rather than having to worry about her being alone in the house.
With a groan, I’m out of bed, tugging off my t-shirt and boy shorts. But no matter how many remarks I make or unnecessary door slamming I do, they still don’t come out of their blanket cocoon. Soon enough, it becomes apparent that Cairo is asleep again, which gives me pause.
If he’s really asleep, does that mean he needs it to get better?
I’ve never seen him so quick to surrender to unconsciousness, and I work to quiet my movements as I finish getting dressed in a new t-shirt and loose sweatpants.
The whole time I run a brush through my hair, I stare at the lumps on my bed, leaning in the doorway of my bathroom.
You’ll find what I am when I’m not holding back for you.
I’m not exactly sure what he means by that, but it’s clear he doesn’t think I should find out.
With one last sigh, I push away from the wall to put my hair in a ponytail and head toward the front door with my phone in one hand and my keys in the other.
Though I pause with my head pressed to the wood, listening for anything other than Moro’s snores, and hear nothing.
“Bye,” I murmur, knowing he can’t hear me and not expecting an answer. I don’t get one, but that’s all right. It makes me feel better to say it, and makes something in me loosen a little, when I remind myself that I’ll be back way before dark, and I’m sure he’ll still be here.
I hope.
Standing outside of Dr. Radley’s office reminds me of how much I don’t want to be here. The blonde is anything but my friend, and nothing in me wants to walk into her office and deal with her droning on for the next hour about my mental state.
Last time, she gave me a damn panic attack.
But I force myself into the room with a sigh, closing the door behind me when Dr. Radley looks up at me with a bright, natural smile on her face that makes me feel incredibly bad about my misgivings of her.
The hour even goes okay, considering I avoid most of her questions or at least work not to answer honestly. Though she doesn’t seem to mind so much.
But that could be because she can’t stop looking at her phone.
It’s like she’s waiting for someone or for something to happen.
It’s rude, and I figure it’s not very ethical for a doctor, not that I’m about to say a word about it.
I’d rather she paid less attention to me, and it makes the minutes tick by faster when she barely remembers what she’s asked.
The moment the clock’s big hand on the wall hits the twelve, I’m up and out of my seat with excuses on my lips about needing to get home to my dog.
“Sorry,” I apologize, not for the first time.
“I haven’t had her for very long. So I worry that she’ll tear down the house in my absence, you know?
” I offer Dr. Radley a plaintive smile that she returns before getting up as well.
“I like dogs,” she tells me kindly. “You could always bring her here if she’s well behaved. Did you get her after what happened at Bluebone Ridge?”
There’s no way I can bring Moro here.
Not when there’s every chance that Dr. Radley will absolutely recognize Moro and where she came from.
I shake my head with an apologetic grimace.
“No, she’s weird. She, uh, might vomit on your nice rug.
” I’ve never seen her vomit, but it’s at least an easy excuse.
“And yeah. I was looking at getting a dog before…that. But then afterward, I realized I didn’t want to be alone. ”
Even though Cairo is usually lurking around enough that I wouldn’t be alone, even without my dog. With a few more polite words to my therapist, I edge out of the room at last once she’s again looking at her phone instead of at me.
I’m grateful for it, and I let out a sigh of relief while taking the stairs quickly, nearly tripping down them.
Once I’m out the door, I glance at the diner, giving a few stray thoughts about ordering something.
But with leftovers in the fridge, I decide it isn’t worth it.
I really should just go home and be a responsible adult who eats what’s still in her kitchen.
“Could’ve gotten a shake,” I grumble to myself, meandering down the sidewalk back toward the parking lot on the other side of the old brick building. “Could’ve gotten a fried bologna sandwich and a shake, and I would’ve been so?—”
The moment I turn the corner, something grabs me, shoving me hard enough into the brick wall that I drop my keys to the ground and yelp out a sound of pain and surprise.
“What—” For a terrifying moment, I’m sure that it’s Tyler.
This would be the perfect place to kill me, after all, when Agatha and Cairo are nowhere in sight.
But it’s Hattie . She leans in, shoulders shaking, with her hands knotted in my shirt and trembling.
“Shhh,” she croons, stepping so close our bodies are pressed together.
“ Shhh, Fern, don’t yell. Don’t scream, just…
” She shudders again and buries her face against my shoulder, unmoving for so long I wonder wildly if she’s fallen asleep.
“…Hattie?” My hand comes up, but my voice is enough to jerk her out of whatever trance she was in. She stands up straight with her gaze on mine, and then I notice the dark circles under her eyes are so bad that she looks like she has a pair of black eyes.
“Oh, fuck.” I drop my hand and lean against the wall behind me as my stomach knots itself tightly. “Oh, fuck, Hattie.” I don’t know what else to say.
“I won’t hurt you,” she’s quick to promise. Her hands tense, gripping my sleeves more tightly. “Fern, I’d never hurt you. Not when you were nice to me.” But she trails off and inhales deeply, her eyes sliding shut. She’s perfectly still until a shiver goes through her, and her eyes open again.
“But Fern.” Again she leans against me, embracing me like I’m the one that needs comfort instead of the one who desperately wants to get out of this situation.
Clouds roll over the sun and a breeze picks up in the absence of a clear sky.
It makes it hard to hear what she says, but somehow, I make it out anyway.
“I’m just so hungry.”
Fuck.
The words repeat in my head, and I force myself not to run or push her away. I don’t know that I could get away from her if she’s as strong as Cairo is. And I don’t want to upset her with any sudden movements. On the other hand, I know I need to get away from her before she hurts me. Or worse.
“Okay. Umm. I-I want to help you,” I stammer, with my heart racing like a rabbit’s in a snare. “Hattie—” Suddenly one of her hands moves and she presses her palm to my chest while locking her wide, dark eyes on mine.
She sucks in a breath, then lets it out.
Hattie does it again, breathing in shaky, uneven motions that cause her whole body to jerk, like a marionette with an unsteady puppeteer.
“You’re afraid of me,” she says at last, and it’s like an unexpected revelation as the words leave her mouth in a breathy whisper. “You think I’m going to hurt you.”
I think she’s going to eat me, but I’m not about to say that out loud.
So I take a few deep breaths to steady myself, hoping to maybe influence her gasps into something calmer and less panicked.
But it doesn’t help. “You have me pinned against a wall, Hattie,” I point out softly.
“You just startled me. I want to help you.”
Hattie shakes her head and looks away, frustration on her face. “No…no, I didn’t come here for your help,” the redhead tells me, like she’s confused and trying to remember exactly why she came here in the first place. “No, I came to help you.”
I don’t know what she could help me with, when she’s clearly the more unwell of the two of us. But I’m not about to say that either. “What are you trying to help me with?” I ask her very slowly, like I’m afraid of spooking a wild animal.
Her sudden, broken laugh seems desperate, and I flinch at the unexpected sound. All at once, Hattie lunges to cradle my face in her hands, and her wide, dark eyes hold mine as she comes close enough for me to feel her breath on my lips, intimate like a lover’s.
“Don’t let him do this to you, Fern,” Hattie whispers. “Don’t let him make you like us.”
“What?” My brain is struggling to put the words together in a way that fits.
Cairo certainly hasn’t tried to make me into anything.
Carefully, I bring up my shaking hands to curl my fingers around Hattie’s delicate wrists.
“What did Tyler do to you, Hattie?” I ask in as steady a voice as I can manage.
But all she does is shudder, then smile while inclining her head, until our foreheads press together and I can feel the cool clamminess of her skin.
“He told me I’d feel better, Fern. He said the hunger isn’t so bad…
that everything else is worth it.” She gives another full-body shiver, and her nails scrape against my face, causing me to gasp and wince away from the sharp, sudden pain.
“But I’m just so hungry. And I don’t think he loves me like I love him. Don’t let Cairo do this to you. Don’t let him change you, okay? Promise me.” Her grip tightens, drawing a soft sound of pain from me as I try to pry her off, increasing my struggle to get free.
“Hattie, stop!” I whine, writhing. “You’re hurting me!”
“Promise me, Fern!” Her voice isn’t hers any longer. It’s mine. An eerie replica that sounds so spot on, it’s like listening to a perfect recording of myself.
Finally, I whisper, trying not to scream, “Yes, I promise! I promise! I won’t let him?—”
She releases me suddenly, and I crumple to my knees, hitting the sidewalk without noticing the rough scrape of it on my skin. When I look up, Hattie is gone, and the clouds roll away from the sun like none of it ever happened. Leaving me alone on the ground with my keys, only steps from my car.