Chapter 14 – Dakota
LET ME HOLD A MIRROR TO THE LIGHT YOU HELD FOR ME - I’LL CHASE AWAY THE DARKNESS
DAKOTA
That was a mistake.
It hadn’t felt like one to me. That had been the single best moment of my life. That I could recall, at least.
It was a mistake to adopt that boy, Evelyn. We never should’ve let him into this family. He’s no good.
Can’t you see what a mistake this was? He’s nothing like our Everett.
Sharp words and jagged memories crowded the forefront of my mind. I wanted to smash my head into something. Crack it open and let them all tumble out until there was nothing left.
When the dryer beeped, I grabbed Reese’s blanket and made my way back to the room.
Reese wasn’t there when I got back, and the coldness in my blood spilled into my bones.
Then I noticed the light coming from underneath the bathroom door. I set his blanket on his bed, then moved to the door and knocked once.
“I dried your blanket for you. It’s on your bed.”
Not a single sound came from behind the door.
How upset was he?
Had I misread everything? Was I seeing things that weren’t really there? Why was I trying so hard to go after someone that clearly didn’t even want me?
A bitter laugh escaped me then, and I stared at his side of the room, a deep longing welling up inside me.
He was so messy. Never put anything away properly, never made his bed.
My eyes roved over all the clothes and books and notebooks strewn over the floor and his bed.
The bright orange of the tiger lily caught my attention, and I just barely stopped myself from going over there and tearing it to pieces.
I wasn’t very good with my words, had wanted to thank him for helping me back in that closet.
I wasn’t sure how to tell him that no one had ever just…
been there for me like that. No one had helped me through something difficult.
No one had quietly done what I’d asked without blaming me for being me.
And as soon as I’d seen the tiger lily, I knew that was how I could thank him.
It felt like a stupid gesture now.
I’d never really cared about whether or not people liked me. It hadn’t ever mattered, and I’d never dissected myself enough to wonder why people kept their distance. I preferred it that way, to be honest.
I guessed there was some repugnant trait I had that was instantly recognizable. Like people could smell the cloying stench of wrongness about me.
Reese helped me one time and I mistook that to be some kind of affection or acceptance when it obviously wasn’t. I was so excited about someone giving me positive attention that I went and got him a fucking flower.
Just because I was obsessed with him didn’t mean the feeling was mutual. Why would anyone take any kind of interest in me, anyway?
I was as delusional as Evelyn.
I changed my pants and underwear, and when I passed the mirror on the wall, I noticed the mark on my neck. Red and pink swirled together low on my throat, and I reached up to press my fingers into the bruise.
He’d marked me.
Gravity seemed to disappear all of a sudden, and a prickling heat started simmering in my belly.
Reese had left an imprint of himself on my skin, and I…
Oh, fuck, I wanted more. I wanted him to leave traces of himself all over my body. I wanted to be reminded of him—of how he’d given me all his attention—every time I looked at myself.
I took my shirt off and stared at myself in the mirror for god knew how long, coveting that little piece of himself that Reese had left behind.
The undeniable evidence that, even if just for a moment, he’d wanted me.
He was like a wounded animal, aggressive and guarded, and I wanted so badly for him to understand that I wasn’t here to hurt him.
I just wanted to help, but I didn’t know how to get him to see that.
That was a mistake.
I was fine with being his mistake if it meant some part of me was his, no matter how wrong.
What the fuck was I going to say to him when he came out of the bathroom? Sorry you got me off but that was amazing and please can I have some more?
“So stupid,” I muttered, throwing my arm over my eyes. I wanted a fucking cigarette, but I’d smoked my last one a few days ago and deliberately didn’t buy another pack because I was trying to quit.
I wished I knew what was happening inside that head of his. It was starting to feel impossible to penetrate his defenses, whether I had dynamite, hedge trimmers, or a sharpened axe or not.
Well, what was thinking about it gonna do? Fucking nothing.
I opened my book and stared at the page, then set it facedown on my stomach.
But what if he was just scared? If that was the case, what was he scared of and how could I help him get over whatever fears he had? Was that even possible? I simply needed to get to know him better, right?
What did he like to do besides play the violin and glare at me? Did he like to read, too? Watch movies? Play chess? Did he have any siblings? What did his laugh sound like? Were his lips as soft as they looked?
Why had he transferred here? Val had mentioned something about a fight, but who knew what really happened. I should ask him about that. Maybe not today, though.
And what the hell was he doing in the bathroom? I strained my ears but didn’t hear a single thing. How long had he been in there? How long had I been back? Ten minutes? Twenty?
I listened for any kind of noise, but there was nothing.
If he was taking a shower—which it didn’t smell like he was, the room usually filled up with the delicious scent of his body wash and I wasn’t smelling it at all right now—then he never spent more than a few minutes drying off and getting dressed.
Besides, he’d showered earlier when I went to get food.
“Reese?” I called. I wasn’t sure I’d ever bothered him while he was in the bathroom before, and he didn’t respond.
Maybe he didn’t hear me.
I got up and walked to the door, then gently knocked. “Reese?”
Was he not even in the bathroom? Maybe he’d just dropped his things here and gone somewhere.
What if he’d tried to go back to that cemetery and gotten himself stuck again?
I turned and looked at the space under his bed where he usually put his shoes, and sure enough, both pairs he owned were there.
An uneasy, weighty apprehension prickled under my skin. I knocked louder.
“Look I know you’re not…happy about what happened, but can you answer me? Are you in there?”
Nothing.
“If you don’t respond, I’m coming in.”
Silence.
I reached for the knob, then hesitated. If he already hated me for what just happened, invading his privacy wasn’t going to win me any favors.
But I couldn’t hear anything in there. No movement, no water, nothing. He probably wasn’t even in there, had just left the light on.
Well, if he wasn’t in there, then there was nothing to worry about. Or maybe he had headphones on and couldn’t hear me. I’d rather face his anger than take the chance that he wasn’t okay.
I grabbed the knob and turned.
It was unlocked.
I swung the door open and immediately saw his legs sticking out of the bathtub, like he was sitting sideways, and my pulse roared in my ears.
“Reese?”
He didn’t move and didn’t answer.
“Reese.”
I moved closer, a fear so visceral lancing through me that I couldn’t breathe. My legs weren’t working anymore, I just stood frozen as my brain tried to figure out what was happening.
What the fuck happened?
His face was sweaty and flushed, his eyes closed, and his hair was plastered to his forehead and cheeks. He was only wearing a t-shirt and boxers, and his legs, fuck, his legs—
“Holy fuck,” I rasped. Suddenly a frantic urgency to hear his voice, to see his eyes, to make sure he was okay—he needed to be okay—unlocked my rigid muscles.
I dropped to my knees at the side of the tub and reached for his face, patted his cheeks, then slid one hand down to the pulse point on his neck.
His pulse was there. A little too fast, but there.
“Hey. Reese. Darling, wake up. Wake up.” I patted his cheeks again, harder this time, and when his eyebrows furrowed and he groaned, the relief that crashed through me was overwhelming, and I started to tremble.
“Oh, fuck, thank god. Okay, you’re okay, I gotta get—I need to—” My breathing was turning shallow and ragged, and it felt like my throat was closing up. Reese blinked his eyes open, squinting at me through tiny slits. His eyes looked like they were glowing.
“S’matter?” he slurred. He tried to lift his hand, but was barely able to move it before it fell back down again.
Was he on drugs? Did he take something?
I grabbed the hand he’d tried to lift and squeezed his fingers. “Hey, I need you to tell me what happened. Did you take something? Are you on something right now?”
“No, I don’t feel good, Dakota,” he murmured. “’M sorry.”
The roaring in my ears was getting louder, and I tried not to look at his legs but—
My gaze dropped to his thighs.
There were so many scars, criss-crossing over each other, some longer, some thicker, and some in neat little rows.
There were hundreds of them. They didn’t look recent, though, and he wasn’t bleeding anywhere so that wasn’t why he was like this.
Fuck, I’d thought he looked sick earlier and had waved it off. I shouldn’t have let him go, I should’ve followed him up here.
“Hospital. We need to get you to the hospital,” I choked out, getting into the tub and kneeling beside him.
I had to call Val. He would know what to do. How to help.
“Reese,” I said, patting his cheek again when his eyes fluttered shut. “I need you to stay awake. Stay with me. I’m gonna get you some help, okay? We’re going to the hospital—”
Reese’s eyes, shiny with fever, blew wide and he looked around until they locked onto mine.
He looked so terrified that it sparked an echoing terror in me, and then he had the strength to grip my fingers in his and squeeze as hard as he could.
He cried hoarsely, “No! No hospital! Please, please, please, no hospital, no hospital!”