Chapter 11 – Reese
I CAN’T EVEN ESCAPE FROM YOU IN MY DREAMS
REESE
“How are you settling in?”
My foot bumped against Dean Voss’s desk, so I shifted in my chair. “Good. Great. Everything’s great.” My smile was as hollow as my insides.
I could barely keep my eyes open today. I thought I might be coming down with something, which wasn’t great. I’d been feeling sluggish and lightheaded for the past few days, but I tried my best to sit up straight. I didn’t want to show an ounce of weakness in front of the dean.
Dean Voss leaned back in his seat and tapped his desk with one big finger. “Excellent. And how’s my son?”
I wanted to say Oh, the son you let your other son terrorize and abuse since he was a kid? The son you refuse to believe even though your other son is literally pure evil?
The other day had changed everything.
Looking back on it now, I was pretty sure I’d dragged Dakota into that closet because I hadn’t wanted Dean Voss to see him. Even before he’d told me all those things, some part of me wanted to protect him from the dean, and I didn’t feel like dissecting that at all.
Until the incident in the closet, I’d been planning on telling the dean that Dakota wasn’t working out as roommate in the hope of possibly getting a different room.
But that was before I’d pulled him into that closet.
He wasn’t as put-together and unaffected as he seemed. And though I wasn’t happy about his misery—not at all—there was a strange comfort in knowing I wasn’t the only one hurting. That we were on some kind of equal footing after all.
I’d also updated my notes after running away like a coward, maybe in an attempt to understand or process what had happened.
The notes I’d been keeping were basically just for me now because I’d forgotten to add anything for months. Honestly, they’d always been just for me.
Notes:
9/22 ~ Dakota seems to be an ordinary boy so far, if a little annoying. He goes to class, he reads, he sleeps. Nothing of note to report just yet.
11/25 ~ He seems to have some sort of trauma to do with small dark spaces, maybe claustrophobia. Touch helped him. My touch specifically? I think I was wrong about him.
It was embarrassing, being so wrong about him.
But I was. And the more I got to know him, the more I realized why he was the way he was.
I wasn’t sure what the hell happened in that closet, but I didn’t think it was an act or that he was trying to mess with me.
It had been a long, long time since I’d touched anyone with the intent to comfort.
I’d forgotten how good simple human contact felt.
How the nearness of another person’s existence could be so reassuring.
The beat of his heart had steadied my own, and every shaky breath he’d drawn, sounding so close to my ears, was proof that I wasn’t alone—not in that closet and not in my suffering.
On top of all that, knowing that he wanted me to touch him, to soothe him, that that was what he needed in that moment, was… almost exhilarating.
Someone had needed me for something so simple, and I’d been able to provide it.
I wasn’t going to address the fact that I’d gotten a fucking erection from all the touching. I was messed up, getting hard while someone was having a panic attack.
And we were never going to think about what I’d almost done right before the maintenance guy came.
Nope.
Fuck, I really owed Dakota an apology. For so many things.
I was in over my head when it came to Dakota and his fucked-up family. I was a small pawn in a game I knew absolutely nothing about. But after the other day, I was very aware of the fact that Dakota was a victim of their abuse.
The fury that had spawned on his behalf only seemed to be growing.
I couldn’t even look at the dean without feeling this immense rage start to build.
I had to keep my eyes on the top button of his shirt.
In addition to everything Dakota had told me, I was pretty sure the dean was also having an affair with his secretary because right as I got here, I saw Ilsa coming out of his office looking pretty mussed; wild hair, glassy eyes, rumpled clothes.
I knew what that meant, and the implication of it was gross. According to everything I’d seen online, the dean was married, and it wasn’t to his fucking secretary.
I stared at his button and lied through my teeth, not feeling an ounce of guilt for lying to this liar. “He’s great. Totally normal. The perfect roommate.”
There was a beat where I thought he’d deny my words, tell me that it was obvious I was lying and to pack my things and leave.
Two beats.
Three.
Then he smiled.
“Wonderful, Mr. Walker. This is wonderful news. I’ll see you in two weeks, same time.”
He turned toward his computer without another word, dismissing me.
I pushed my chair back and stood, a million things bouncing around my mind as I left the office, biting down on my bottom lip to keep me from saying another word.
I stared hard at my shoes as I walked through the outer offices. I really needed to clean them, not that it would make any kind of difference. Nobody would—
“Oh, hello. You look familiar.”
I raised my head at that distinctive, bored voice, my blood chilling at the sight of Everett walking toward me.
His dark hair was slicked back, and he was wearing dress clothes instead of a fencing outfit today.
His frigid gaze lowered to my birthmark, his upper lip lifting in brief distaste before he hid it behind a smile full of straight white teeth.
I wasn’t in the mood for this right now. Plus, Dakota had practically begged me to steer clear of him, and after everything he’d confided in me I didn’t trust myself not to beat the shit out of Everett.
But it’s not like I was trying to bump into him, and I’d be damned if I backed down.
“Sorry, don’t know you,” I said, raising my brows. I wanted to punch that smug smile off his perfect asshole face; instead, I kept walking.
Everett stepped into my path, making me stop short, then prowled closer and lifted his hand like he was about to touch my cheek. I flinched away from him before he could make contact, which made him laugh.
“That’s quite the…mark, isn’t it?” It was a question that didn’t welcome a response, was more of a statement. His eyes flicked to somewhere behind me, then back to mine. “Where are you coming from? In trouble with the dean already?”
“I don’t know why that would be any of your business.” I tried to move past him, but he put a hand on my shoulder and leaned in close.
“I’ll tell you why, if you really want to know.”
His voice in my ear was so repulsive that I shuddered. I smacked his hand off my shoulder and glared up at him. “Hey, buddy? Get the fuck out of my face.”
He drew back and laughed, raising his hand to his cheek. “Oh, you’re fun. No wonder he likes you.” He leaned in again, his eyes gleaming with the most unsettling delight. “I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, or else my brother might just tear you to pieces, rabid dog that he is.”
Then he turned and walked down the hall, waving without looking back as if he knew I was standing there watching him.
What a fucking piece of shit.
My blood surged like fire in my veins, my ears ringing with the effort not to go after him and attack him like the animal he accused Dakota of being.
The beat of my heart was like a jackhammer, pounding inside my chest and echoing in my skull, urging me to release the chaotic energy he’d brought up.
The last ten years of my life had changed me, and not for the better. I was always ready to fight in an instant, adrenaline just waiting for the chance to flood my body and cloud my mind.
I took a deep breath and began counting the frantic beats of my heart, even though that never worked.
The shrill sound of a phone ringing somewhere pulled me back to reality until I realized I was just standing in the middle of a room full of cubicles and desks, staring at the empty hall.
Had he gone into the dean’s office?
Wait a second, how had he known I was Dakota’s roommate?
Fuck, did it matter?
I turned and made my way out of the building, focusing on slowing down my heart and putting one foot in front of the other.
My phone buzzed as soon as I got outside.
Asshole:
Are you in the room?
Can you look on my desk and see if I left my lighter there?
It’s gold
It’s a Zippo
A gold Zippo
I know you’re reading these
Instead of ignoring me, you should come sit by the lake with me. There’s a spot behind the Scheuster building that’s nice. It’s got a willow tree.
I huffed out a laugh, then shook my head.
I didn’t know what to say to any of that—and because I wanted so badly to say yes, I quickly put my phone back in my pocket and kept walking.
When I got back to my dorm, Dakota wasn’t there, and the concern that wound its way up my throat and squeezed was as alarming as his absence.
Was he sitting by the lake right now? Should I go…find him? Sit with him?
I didn’t want him to run into Everett alone again, he was fucking dangerous.
I slammed the door behind me and stared at the messy state of my side of the room.
I could ask myself that question all day and still not be able to stop the onslaught of thoughts revolving around Dakota.
Nothing protected me from the surge of curiosity that constantly swelled, spiking to ridiculous degrees.
And no matter how much he poked fun at me or tried to rile me up, it was the confusing things he’d say that stuck with me more.
I really like it, kinda looks like a butterfly. Very cute.
Pretty.
I can feel you, Reese.
Why, you gonna kiss me?
Fine. I’d just let it happen then. It was better than letting the other feeling take over. That gnawing disquiet that upended an equilibrium I didn’t have but pretended was there. A discomfort that went deeper than my bones. It usually began to creep higher and higher when I was alone.