Chapter 10 – Dakota #2
He slid one hand down to my chest, and I fumbled around until I found it, squeezing his fingers and focusing on the warmth of his palm and the feel of his other hand as he sifted it through my hair.
So much better.
Little by little, as I focused on Reese, my breathing started to slow along with my heart.
The heat from Reese’s body cut through the cold terror that was flowing through my veins, and his hands were the only things that mattered.
Those long fingers were so warm in mine, and even though I was squeezing his hand in a death grip, he moved it around my chest, slowly rubbing beneath my collarbone.
“Is this a panic attack?” he asked. His voice was soft and so close to my ear. It burrowed under my skin and slowed the tremors until a sense of calm started billowing gently through me.
“Mm,” I grunted, feeling drugged-out from his nearness.
Was it? Is that what a panic attack felt like? Fuck, they were horrible.
“Are you afraid of the dark? Or claustrophobic?”
“I don’t know. Just…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. Reese’s fingers in my hair were lulling me into an in-between state where all I wanted to do was sit here and let him touch me.
I wanted to touch him.
There was only the sound of our breathing as he kept rubbing my chest, kept pushing his fingers through my hair. The weight of eyes in the dark was comforting.
His attention was comforting.
For once in my life, someone was helping me when I’d done something wrong. Instead of yelling at me, dismissing me, or ignoring me, Reese was helping me.
And god it felt good.
I focused on his slow, quiet breaths and tried matching my breathing to his. The air around us seemed less suffocating, replaced with a reassuring stillness that smothered the fear like a warm blanket.
He smelled so good, too. It was his body wash, I knew that from the way the room would fill up with the scent of him after he took a shower. It was a floral scent, warm and pretty. Every inhale filled me with it, and I wanted to bury my nose in his neck and lick it from his skin.
“Are you better now?”
“I don’t know.” I didn’t want to say yes because then he would stop touching me.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t—I wouldn’t have pulled you in here if I’d known. I’m so sorry, Dakota.”
When had anyone ever apologized to me before? I couldn’t remember.
I felt his pulse in his wrist and brushed my thumb across his skin. Why was he trembling?
“It’s okay. I didn’t know either.”
It wasn’t a lie; I really didn’t know I’d have such a severe reaction to being stuck in a small, dark space because I’d spent so long making sure that never happened again.
As close as Reese was to me, I wanted to pull him even closer.
The nights he sleepwalked had quickly become my favorite, because then I had an excuse to drag him into my arms and hold onto him without any resistance.
I knew come morning he’d be pissed to wake up with me wrapped around him, so I always left before that could happen.
I was starting to look forward to those quiet hours where time stood still and, just for a little while, things felt okay. Then I wasn’t Dakota, the unwanted son that never did anything right. I was…just someone who could help.
Someone who could help him.
I liked that. I liked that more than anything, because as much as he snapped back at me, he needed help. Was that selfish? Was doing a kindness for another person because it made me feel better selfish? Or did the fact that I wanted to do it because it made him feel better, too, negate that?
“Do you still need me to…um…” Reese shifted on his knees, his hand pressing into my chest to help him balance. I slid my other hand to his waist. He flinched away from me, and the sting of hurt was quick and deep.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. I had to remember that while I might be slightly obsessed with him, the feeling wasn’t mutual. I couldn’t fucking help myself, though.
“Dakota,” he said. His voice sounded thicker. Deeper.
“Yeah?”
There was a pause, and I imagined him licking his lips. Then I imagined me licking his lips, and god I wanted that. Would he like it if I bit him? Just a little? Gently? Would he like it if—
“Why were you scared?” he asked.
He slowly pulled away from me, taking his hands with him, and the immediate return of adrenaline laced with fear made it feel like all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
But this felt like panic of a different kind, like losing his touch was even worse than the heavy dread that long-forgotten memories brought with them.
Each panting breath ramped up the speed of my heart, and an all-consuming terror slithered into the space he’d created between us.
“Goddammit,” he muttered, framing my face with his hands again.
He held me tight as he tilted my head up.
“Hey. Breathe, okay? You’re okay. Nothing’s gonna happen to you in here.
What do you need me to do? Should we call somebody?
” He started to pull one of his hands away, and I grabbed onto it in desperation, squeezing his fingers so hard he yelped.
“Sorry,” I panted, loosening my grip but not letting go. “I just—please don’t let go of me. Just keep—keep touching me, okay?”
“Fine, just—can we call someone, though? Like don’t you know someone who could come get us out of here? We need to get out.”
“But you’ll stop touching me if we get out.”
Fuck. I said that out loud.
“…and you’ll be fine,” Reese said slowly after a long pause. “Right? You’re only scared right now because you’re in the middle of it. Aren’t panic attacks just…you’re not in any real physical danger, it just feels like it? Right?”
I wished I could see his eyes, because I had no idea what was going through his head right now. I wanted to tell him that I might die if he stopped touching me, but something told me that wouldn’t go over well. It felt like the truth, but not reality.
“I don’t know, this has never happened to me before.”
Reese sighed, and it was full of heavy exhaustion. But when he slid his hand down my face to the side of my neck and started rubbing, I could have melted from how good it felt.
“I don’t understand why you need me to touch you. I still feel like you’re messing with me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not.”
“So if this has never happened before, then…why is it happening now? Can you tell me?”
Flashes of memories flickered in my mind.
That horrible laugh.
The color blue.
Panic. Dread. Screaming. Me screaming. Crying. Begging.
Darkness.
Darker than dark.
I licked my lips and focused on Reese’s hands.
“Everett locked me in the crawlspace in our basement a week after Albert and Evelyn adopted me. He didn’t tell anyone where I was, and for two days, I sat in the dark and screamed and cried and begged for someone to come let me out.
The maid was the one who found me. Everyone thought I’d gone in there on my own and I was scolded.
” I laughed bitterly. “Screamed so loud and long I permanently damaged my vocal cords. I had to ditch my singing career after that.”
Reese didn’t laugh at my poor attempt at a joke. There was a palpable silence, and in it, I could feel the horror pulsing from him in stark waves.
I shook my head and cleared my throat. “So…I just don’t like being in the dark.”
I hated being in the dark. And while there was still a small sliver of light coming through the gap beneath the door, it was the fact that we were in a closet—coupled with the darkness—that was setting me off.
A light suddenly flashed on, startling me, and Reese’s eyes were the first thing I found in the glow. They looked gold and amber, and the freckles in his left eye were visible.
Those eyes were filled with an appalled disbelief and a stunned anger as they searched mine.
“I’m not messing with you,” I said quietly. I knew that’s what he was thinking. He kept saying it, and I didn’t know how to make him believe that I wasn’t.
Okay, maybe I had messed with him a few times, but not in a cruel way. Not in a mean way.
Right?
“That’s so fucked up I don’t even know what to say,” he whispered.
“Well, you don’t have to say anything. It wouldn’t change a thing anyway.”
His brows drew together as he frowned. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. He still had his hand on me, and I wasn’t sure if he was consciously kneading my shoulder or not. Probably not.
Reese sighed when I didn’t answer. “I’m gonna call campus security and they’ll send someone to unlock the door. Okay?”
No.
Wait, yes.
“Okay.”
No.
“Damn it, you’re really shaking.” He stroked his hand over my shoulder, down my arm, then back up, and repeated the movement over and over again.
He was shaking, too.
When he moved his hand to get his phone, I wrapped my fingers around his arm. He didn’t say anything, and the light from his phone screen glowed bright enough to illuminate his face. He looked like some kind of otherworldly creature, and when his eyes flashed to mine, my heart skipped a beat.
And then another.
His gold-green eyes were brimming with fear and confusion, his brows knitted tightly together. He was biting his bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and letting go, then doing it again.
“Why are you scared?” I asked, moving my thumb in circles on the soft skin of his arm.
“I’m not,” he said immediately, letting go of his lip. He broke eye contact and started typing with one hand, and I stared at his profile.
He really was beautiful.
I couldn’t see his birthmark from this angle, just the delicate slope of his nose, the shadows that played in his cheeks and over his jawline. His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed, drawing my gaze lower.
“Stop staring at me,” he muttered, hitting a button and raising the phone to his ear. His face was cast in shadows again as the screen went dark, and the flashlight was now aimed at the shelf next to him.