Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
JAMIE
T he silence was so thick and heavy it suffocated me, clawing its way into my lungs and stealing every particle of air. My throat was raw, burned from the inside out from every scream that was wrenched from me against my will. Blood dripped from my nose and coated my mouth, staining my lips as I dragged my tongue over them. The slightest movement ached and echoed though me as I slowly cataloged every pulsing point of pain that blazed with white-hot intensity.
I tried to move, to call out for help now the blaring alarm and abusive words had stopped, but it was too much. The fragile grip I had on my consciousness started to fade and slip through my fingers. At least if I let go, the pain would stop, and I’d feel some semblance of peace. I wondered if this was how Mom felt every time Dad beat her. I would listen to her screams from the safety of my closet until the house fell under an unearthly silence that flushed my skin with goosebumps, and I would selfishly pray she’d still be alive the following day. I knew I was too small to survive my father’s brand of love. It was a weak and selfish thought, but I needed her. I still do. I miss her so much.
“You’re stronger than this, Jamie. Don’t give in. Get up, baby. Get up.”
“Mom,” I wheezed, my arm outstretched on the cold cement floor, reaching for a ghost that wasn’t there.
I didn’t know how much time had passed since they locked me in here. It had lost all meaning. It could have been minutes, hours, days, even. They left me to endure. To suffer. They wanted to break me. To make me run. What they didn’t know was I had nowhere to run to. When you’ve spent years running from the devil, a lesser monster holds no power. And that’s all they were—a bunch of assholes on a power trip. I didn’t understand why they had it out for me, only that they did.
“Jamie? Oh fuck. Jamie?” Dillon’s voice was etched with anguish. I’d been so lost in my marauding thoughts and pain, I hadn’t heard his approach.
“W-what.” I licked at my dry lips. “What a-are you d-doing here?”
“I…” A breath shuddered out of him. I felt the air move as he fell to the floor next to me, his knees landing close to my head, the scuff of denim on the concrete floor like sandpaper on my brain. “Fuck, little crow…” His words felt like a physical touch, something tangible I could cling to in the darkness. A spark of hope.
“D-Dil… p-please…” I wanted him to wrap his arms around me. To feel safe. To go back five years when the future looked bright and full of possibilities. I wanted too much, even though I knew I could never have it. I’d prayed for another chance with him, for us. But we were on opposite sides of the board. We were enemies. There wasn’t a line drawn between us; there was a canyon that grew wider every day. I just didn’t understand why, and maybe I never would.
“Shhh, little crow, I’ve got you. I’ll get you out of here and make sure you’re safe.” His words were whisper soft, a gentle caress. A promise that sounded so sweet I couldn’t resist. I breathed them in, committed them to memory, and then buried them.
“O-okay,” I managed to grit out. My teeth chattered as my body recoiled from violent convulsions. My wet clothes clung to me like a layer of burning ice, numbing my skin but intensifying the pain that shot through me. His hands slipped under my legs and wrapped around my chest, causing my breathing to hitch as he jostled me.
“Try to relax, baby. This will hurt, but I’ll be as gentle as I can be.” His feet shifted around me, heat radiating off his body as he painstakingly maneuvered me off the floor. A scream tore free from my lungs as he lifted me bridal-style into the air. He jostled me in his arms as his grip wavered until gravity pulled me into his body, and his arms locked around me.
I felt like I was flying, soaring above the clouds, even though I was trapped in darkness. Safe, yet my head was facing an unending abyss. “D-Dil? Can y-you…”
“Oh shit, hang on.” His firm muscles strained and rippled as his hands shifted on my abused skin. A jolt shot through me as he pulled the bag off my head, and I tasted sweet, sweet air. I sucked greedy mouthfuls down into my lungs as stars danced across my vision, unable to focus on anything. “Are you okay?” His tentative question was threaded with fear. He knew. He could see me, but he asked anyway.
I couldn’t speak. Every word turned to ash on my tongue as a wave of nausea rolled through me, and the taste of copper in my mouth turned to acid. I nodded, a barely perceptible movement, but the look of understanding in his sorrow-edged eyes let me know he understood.
I curled into the sanctuary his body offered as he moved on silent feet to the open doorway. The bright light of the corridor was blindingly bright and made my eyes water. I blinked to clear the welling tears as too many emotions battled inside me, threatening to overwhelm me. I rested my head against his chest, focusing on the erratic pounding of his heart as he stalled for a second, his body swaying as if he was paralyzed. I felt more than heard him suck in a deep inhale, and then he was running. His footsteps were like a metronome, swaying us from side to side as he raced through the building toward the exit on nimble legs.
The world blurred around me as he moved faster than my brain could process. The world flickered in and out of focus around me like the old-fashioned black and white movies. Dillon’s panted breaths were hot against my chilled skin. They were the only thing that let me know this was real, and I wasn’t dreaming. “Shit,” he ground out as the sound of voices rang out around us, and the air buzzed with anticipation. The chatter of students grew louder and louder until Dillon cursed again and abruptly changed direction. “We’re going to have to go by the sports fields, because everyone has been corralled in the quad. You’re goin’ to have to hang on a little longer, little crow.”
I don’t know if I closed my eyes or passed out, but they snapped open as a wave of warmth washed over me. A door banged, and I became hyper aware of my surroundings. The stale smell of the dorms filtered through my nose, and his thudding footfalls were now muted by carpet. Lights flashed above me as we moved swiftly along the corridor toward the elevator, the soft ding perfectly timed as the doors slid open. I caught a glimpse of my fuzzy reflection. I looked like shit, but after what I’d been through in the last few… hours? Minutes? I wasn’t surprised in the least.
“Here you go,” Dillon muttered as he pushed the door open to my room. His head swung from side to side before he looked down at me. “Which one?”
Which one is what? Oh, bed. He meant bed. “The right,” I rasped. He softly placed me down as if I was something fragile and precious, then removed my shoes and socks before starting on my pants. The button was undone, the zipper halfway down before my brain kicked in. “S-stop.” My hand shot out and grabbed his arm. If he could feel the ferocity of the shakes running through me, he didn’t react to them.
“Jamie?” The pained tone of his voice tugged at something inside me I didn’t want to look too closely at. “ Please, ” he begged. “We need to get you out of these wet clothes. I… I can’t—” He turned away in frustration, hands fisted in his hair as I gingerly pulled myself up onto my elbows, my eyes enraptured by him. He paced back and forth, burning a path in the carpet. No matter how many times he retraced his steps, I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He was beautifully broken, fierce and deadly. But right now, he looked small and lost. He looked like mine.
“I can do it myself.” My breathless words were softer than a summer breeze, but Dillon heard them and froze. His shattered eyes trained on me as his chest heaved, shoulders rising and falling. A myriad of emotions played across his face, eyebrows scrunched as if he wanted to say so many things but couldn’t find wherewithal to articulate them. He stepped toward me with an arm outstretched. I held up my hand, and he turned to stone. “I-I can manage. Y-you should go.”
“Jamie.” His pained exhale was almost enough to make me change my mind, but I locked that feeble thought down. He’d done enough; too much, really. I was vulnerable, raw and exposed in a way I never wanted him to see. He acted like he hated me one minute, then became my dark knight the next. I was getting whiplash. It was a total mind fuck. What I needed was silence, rest, and sleep. With him hovering, I wasn’t going to get anything.
“No, Dillon. You need to go.” It hurt to say those words, and if the look of devastation that flickered across his face was anything to go by, he felt it too. But I couldn’t do this. Not with him, not now. “Just go. Please.”
His hand wrapped around the handle, and he slowly pulled it back, his eyes a vortex of agony. I bit down on my cracked lip, the pain helping to keep my emotions in check. All I wanted to do was reach out to him and beg him to stay, but I knew it was the wrong thing to do.
“Can I…” He shook his head and slipped out the door like a thief in the night, like he was never here. The Dillon I knew still existed—I knew it in the marrow of my bones—but he was buried beneath the pain and the anger he carried. Was he crying out for me as much as I was for him?
I’d spent the last week hiding out in our dorm. Mal had been an absolute saint, and if it wasn’t for him, I’m pretty certain I would have packed up and left. When he heard what happened, and I didn’t answer my phone, he burst through our door like his ass was on fire, threw himself on the bed, and wrapped me up in his arms until I stopped crying. When I finally did, he looked me over and arranged for one of the medical students to check me over. That’s how I ended up with a prescription for some seriously strong painkillers that knocked me out for nearly three days straight.
Today was the first day I felt remotely human. I ached like I’d been hit by a bull, but I couldn’t keep hiding. Mom never did. She dusted herself off and got back up again. She told me I was her reason for fighting, her reason to keep on going. It made me feel special but also like a curse. All I’m left with are painful memories and unanswered questions. Did she stay all those years because of me? Am I the reason she got hurt to begin with? I’ll never know, but I can’t help but wonder.
The pills went down easily as I sipped on my water and focused on what I needed to take to the art studio. I grabbed my sketch book, charcoal sticks, and pencils before slipping my bag over my shoulder. The halls were quiet as I headed out of the building. It was strange not having to duck and dodge large groups of people. It was nice to be able to just be in the moment without the distraction of everything around me being so loud I couldn’t think.
My mind had been working overtime the last few days, trying to understand why Dillon was the person who found and rescued me. It doesn’t make sense. How did he know I was there after the building was evacuated? The last thing I remember clearly was Velecote looming over me as the room emptied around us, the only sound louder than the stampede of feet was the wailing alarm. I can still hear it ringing distantly in my ears, like some kind of haunting tinnitus.
It’s like I’ve got all the pieces of the puzzle, but they’re not fitting together. Maybe I’m looking at it all the wrong way. Just like in art, perspective is everything. I want to know the answers, but also I fear they might be the final nail in the coffin. I’ve got myself caught in a catch twenty-two situation. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. Thank god for my ten minute warning alarm—I don’t know where I’d be without it. Time management has never been my strong point. I turned it off before checking for any messages, but the screen is blank for once. A small smile lifted my lips at the background photo of my little sunbeam. I sucked in a deep breath and brushed off the melancholy clinging to me like a second skin. It’s a new day and all that.
The art rooms were always a hive of activity, and today was no different. The smell of old paint and oils saturated the air, permeating every surface. To many, it might be overpowering, but to me, it was a comfort I refused to let go. I settled at my table and waited for Mrs. Wright to tell us what our next project would be. Gina, the girl that shared my table, slipped into her seat.
“Hey, Jamie.” She smiled sweetly at me, her fiery-red hair illuminated by the sun streaming through the windows. “I heard you had a bit of trouble recently. You doin’ okay?”
If only she knew the truth. Mal told me no one knew what went down after the alarm was set off, and I took some comfort in that. “Yeah.” I sighed. “Just had the stomach flu. Knocked me out for a few days.” I hoped that was enough for her. I didn’t really know her beyond the few interactions we’d had in class, and they’d been painful enough. I liked people, but I found it unbelievably hard to talk to them. I sucked at inane, surface-level chatter about the weather and classes, and the more someone pushed for an answer, the more I shut down. Mal and Ava were the only two people I had ever immediately felt comfortable with. Lie.
“Alright, everyone.” Mrs. Wright clapped her hands together to gain our attention. “Today is going to be fun,” she said as she cast her eyes over the room. They landed on me for a beat before moving on, and air wooshed out of me when she turned her back. “I’d like you all to go outside this afternoon and look at natural structures…” I tuned her out as she continued, my mind focused on being outside. I knew exactly where I was going to go. I needed somewhere peaceful where I could work without getting disrupted. “I want you to look at form, how its natural composition supports the structure, and really try and convey that depth in your work. You can use any medium you like.”
Five minutes later, I strolled across the green expanse of lawns that separated the main part of campus from the sports fields. The shrill sound of a whistle belted through the air moments before the bellowing roar of a team in the middle of practice took over. I didn’t know who was out there, and I didn’t especially care, as Mal had hinted the issues I’d had on campus were because of the football team. One member to be precise, but there was no way of verifying that fact because apparently what happened at football practice, stayed at football practice.
I scoffed and kicked a stone that bounced along the grass until I lost sight of it. The light today was perfect. The skies were overcast, and gray clouds were marled across the vast expanse of blue. I could get lost in the ever changing patterns they created, but sadly, they weren’t my focus today. There was an old gnarled oak down by the lake that would be perfect…
A pained cry rendered the air, followed by a sharp gasping breath. “Hello?” I called out, treading carefully across the grass. The world fell silent, and even the bird song seemed to have ceased as I strained to hear the sound again. When nothing happened for a while, I shrugged it off and kept walking in the direction of the lake.
“Fuck!” My head snapped to the right, my interest piqued, and I turned to head in the direction of the rasping voice. “No. No. No,” they chanted, each word growing more and more pained, their agony palpable. Twigs cracked under my feet as I broke through the tree line, slowly heading toward whoever was hiding in the woods. From what I could hear, it sounded like someone having a panic attack. Their stuttering, gasping breaths ratched up my own anxiety with every step.
I couldn’t explain what drew me toward them, other than their suffering pulled on something inside me, and I had this overwhelming urge to make sure they were alright. I’d suffered a fair few panic attacks in my time, and it was one of the worst things to endure alone without someone or something there to anchor you and help you fight back. Someone to hold you, to guide you as you worked on pulling yourself back from that ledge.
“I-I…I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I-I-I…” A low groan helped me cross the last of the distance between us, and what I found made me feel like I was free falling from a thousand feet with nothing to catch me when I crash landed.
Dillon sat on the ground, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, head buried in the space between them. His breath hitched with every labored inhale, and my heart squeezed in sympathy and ached with confusion. What happened to bring someone I thought of as so strong to this point? Frenetic energy radiated off him as he rocked side to side.
Unsure what to do or how to help without making things worse, I crouched a few feet in front of him. As if sensing me, he lifted his head and stared at me through unseeing eyes. Tears tracked down his flushed cheeks, but it was the swirling darkness that had hold of his eyes that made it impossible to breathe. I reached out to him, the need to wrap him in my arms tangible. My fingers tingled as I brushed the damp strands of hair off his face. “Dil?” I said softly, so as not to exasperate his emotional turmoil.
Dillon blinked, unleashing a fresh wave of tears as his lips trembled. I want to wipe them off where they clung to his plump bottom lip but apprehension held me hostage.
“Dillon? Can you hear me?”
He blinked again, and some of the shadows cleared from his eyes like a breaking storm. For a fleeting moment, recognition sparked in his ebony eyes, but it was gone before I could react. He gasped, fingers clawing at his throat like he was struggling to draw in a breath.
My legs crumbled, refusing to support me as he broke right in front of me. I refused to be a silent observer any longer and crawled across the ground, twigs and stones cutting into my skin. Kneeling at Dillon’s feet, I tentatively put my left hand on his knee. Electricity danced across my fingers and shot down my arm like a lightning bolt. “Shhh, Dil. I’m here,” I cooed softly and teased my fingers through his hair. Leaning into my touch, Dillon’s rocking slowed as my fingers gently grazed across his scalp. His eyes fluttered closed as soft comforting words passed my lips. The tension locking up his shoulders eased, and so did the steel band around my chest.