Chapter 5 #2
In exchange for them keeping Dad in the dark about the incident, I moved back to Austin quickly and quietly with the promise that I’d start taking my medication again after the doctor they forced on me upped my dosage for the third time.
They’d recruited Dad in their scheme to keep me “on track” which meant counted pills and a supervised living situation until I had proven I was back in control of myself.
It didn’t make a difference that I told them repeatedly I hated how the meds made me feel and that they didn’t really help. They didn’t give me control, they stole it from me. I loathed the side effects. Being on them, I was muted and dull to the point I didn’t recognize myself.
Shit, maybe that was a good thing. Who I had become wasn’t enough to keep people from leaving me. In some ways, I was thankful I had been the one to leave Dawson before he could do it himself. And I had no doubt in my mind he would have.
Dawson was better off without me. Once he understood the reality I lived with, he’d only see me as a sickness that couldn’t be cured.
I shook out the small pink pill onto my palm, despising the sight of it.
It was a fickle friend who left me with as many problems as it solved.
I dropped it in the toilet and flushed it down, instantly breathing a little easier.
I hadn’t been so lucky yesterday morning when Dad had caught me with a pill in hand before he left for his flight, so down the hatch it went.
I’d had half a mind to throw it back up the minute he left, but I couldn’t stand vomiting.
Two days later and I still had to remind myself that one pill wouldn’t screw me up, but I knew the dangers of messing with my meds, so I mentally scanned my body to reassure myself I was okay.
My mouth isn’t dry, my stomach is calm, my hands aren’t shaking or twitching…I’m fine. Everything is fine.
Except everything was not fucking fine. I was on edge and anxious, wanting to do everything and nothing at the same time. My thoughts were being tossed into a blender, spraying random words and ideas around my head until I couldn’t distinguish one thing from another.
I reached up more than once to grasp Dawson’s ring when it overwhelmed me, continually forgetting that it was no longer mine to hold. Being without the token that had been my grounding force for years, my talisman, left me feeling unbalanced and so…alone.
For the rest of the day, I was constantly in motion to keep my mind focused, a steady buzz thrumming in my veins.
I was running on a handful of hours of sleep over the last few days, but I had to stay active to keep my thoughts from creeping into darker territory.
It was in the quiet moments where I was most vulnerable.
By late afternoon, I’d reorganized my room, scoured the attic for old family heirlooms I was positive had to exist, rage-wrote letters to my old friends relaying all the betrayal and hurt I’d felt at them ghosting me, went for a jog, started a puzzle Dad had stashed in the hallway closet, and jacked off at least three times which did nothing to kill the underlying buzz that was still there.
Ultimately I decided a swim was the perfect way to relax my frazzled brain.
The sun-warmed water was as decadent as liquid silver being poured over me as I dove in.
I envisioned it washing away all my worries from the last few days, cleansing me of everything but peace.
I let my mind conjure up memories of corded muscle, soft skin, heat around my cock, and cornflower blue eyes that stirred my blood with a single look.
I lost track of how long I’d been floating there when voices from across the yard pulled me out of my lusty reveries.
I hauled myself out of the pool and crossed over to the low white fence that separated the Hayes and Bishop land.
The higher of the voices was animated and pleading, but not one I recognized.
But the soft baritone that answered her struck me in the chest with the force of a nine pound hammer.
That same voice had begged and moaned my name in my subconscious not even five minutes ago.
Dawson came into view around the side of his house being trailed by a short, pink-haired girl whom he seemed to be unsuccessfully evading.
Neither of them noticed me as I hopped the fence and strolled over, increasingly curious about the newcomer.
She gripped his arm in both her hands, dragging him to a halt and flashing him huge puppy eyes I could see from here.
I desperately hoped she was a friend of Dani’s or maybe a cousin I’d never met, anything but what I feared she could be.
As I drew closer, I saw Dawson’s eyes roll and a smirk grace his pillowy lips as the girl squealed in thanks, jumping into his arms and smacking a kiss to his lightly stubbled cheek.
The affectionate smile he gave her churned my stomach and bile climbed my throat when I realized she was exactly what I was afraid of.
She was his.
As she landed back on her feet, Dawson turned and caught sight of me, the smile dropping off his face.
Cold slithered down my spine at the reminder that his smiles didn’t belong to me anymore.
Now they were someone else’s. And that someone was now looking at me with vague recognition and open curiosity.
“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, Mercury,” I teased, attempting to break the uncomfortable silence. He glared at me, staying stubbornly mute as I stood there dripping wet like a jackass.
“Well, this is nice and awkward. Sorry if this one’s a little crabby. That’s probably my fault,” the perky interloper piped up, jerking her thumb in Dawson’s direction. “I tend to have that effect on him. I’m Aly, and you are?”
I’m the guy who has fucked your boyfriend in so many positions that we made the Kama Sutra look like a junior high sex ed class.
I dragged my attention over to her and pasted on a tight smile.
“Theo. Nice to meet you,” I replied, shaking her outstretched hand a little harder than necessary.
Intrusive images of her touching Dawson with those too-soft hands popped up and I pushed back the impulse to crush her hand in mine.
That would win me no points with Dawson and I was already batting in the negatives.
“You look kind of familiar. Do you go to UT?” the girl asked.
“Yep. Transferred in January from Sam Houston State,” I shared, noticing Dawson regarding me warily out of the corner of my eye.
“Oh awesome! So how do you and Dawson know each other?”
“We were—”
“Neighbors,” Dawson interrupted. “We used to be neighbors.” His features remained neutral, unbothered, as though he hadn’t just wiped away all our history with one word. Betrayal sliced through me at how easily he dismissed me. Us. Everything we meant to each other.
Am I not even good enough of a memory for you to hold onto?
Aly’s shrewd gaze lingered on Dawson for several beats as he avoided my own. The silence beared down on us until I physically felt the pressure of it on my chest.
“We gotta get going. We have friends who will be here soon,” Dawson mumbled, shifting from foot to foot nervously.
I nodded, unable to speak past the tightness in my throat.
Avoiding Dawson had seemed like a good plan when I came back home, but seeing how eager he was to get away from me made me want to rip my hair out.
“That reminds me!” Aly chimed in. “We’re having a party tonight for the Fourth! A ton of people will be there. You should come over if you’re not doing anything. It could give you and Dawson a chance to catch up! I’m sure you have a lot to talk about now that you’re back.”
I peered at her, wondering what the hell her game was.
Did she know more about our past than she let on?
I supposed it could be a test to see how I acted around him again now I knew he was taken.
Did she know about our kiss at the bar? The song he played for me?
I entertained the thought that she could be inviting me for some fucked up prank, a way to assert her dominance as Dawson’s girlfriend.
But there was no malice on her features.
The smile she aimed my way seemed genuine enough.
A rejection sat on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it at the dismay written on Dawson’s face. The petty bitch in me wanted to mess with him for denying our history together. For making us out to be less than what we were, especially in front of his new bedwarmer.
“Sure, why not? Sounds like fun,” I agreed. His eyes flashed a warning at me, but I refused to back down. If Dawson thought he could brush me off and pretend we meant nothing to one another, then I’d make damn sure he couldn’t ignore me.
Game on, Mercury. Game-fucking-on.