Chapter 22 – Dakota
GODDAMN HORNY PERVERT
DAKOTA
“You wrote that?”
I wanted to preen at the awe in Reese’s voice.
We were in one of the music booths so we could work on our project. He almost hadn’t come because it was snowing out and he didn’t want his violin to get damaged—so I’d bought him a huge umbrella from the campus store.
“Yeah, I wrote it,” I said.
“When?” Those pretty eyes narrowed at me, and I wanted to kiss his pursed lips.
“Yesterday. What, you don’t believe me? Want me to write something for you right now?” I picked up my bow, positioned my violin, and started to improvise something dark and melancholic.
He rolled his eyes and set his hand over my bow, stopping me. “I believe you.” His fingers trailed down the bow to my hand, and he started drawing little circles on my skin. “You’re really good at that,” he said softly, watching his finger move over the back of my hand.
His cheeks were pink.
Was he embarrassed about giving me a compliment? Why was he so fucking adorable?
I leaned in and touched my nose to his, waiting for him to raise his gaze to mine. “Really good at what?”
His eyes searched mine, and he didn’t move at all. “Writing music. Playing. All of it. Why did you, um—never mind, sorry,” he said quickly, pulling back and turning away.
I leaned back in my chair. “Why did I what?”
“Nothing.”
“No, you were gonna ask me something.” I set my violin and bow down, then gently grabbed his chin and turned his face toward mine.
He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and this was a moment I wished I could just crack open his mind and peek inside.
“Why did I what? You know you can ask me anything, right? I like it when you ask me things. I want you to ask me things.”
He slid his eyes to mine. “Why did you stop? What happened…back then?”
Oh.
He wanted to know about that day.
I let go of his chin and stood up, stretching my arms up and groaning.
Fuck.
Okay. I could do this.
“Dakota, you don’t have to—”
“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind telling you, it’s just…kind of long.”
“You don’t have to talk about it.”
“Nah, you asked and I want to tell you. God knows what that curiosity will turn into if it’s not satisfied.”
He punched my thigh and said, “Shut up.”
I grabbed his fist and kissed the back of his hand. “As you wish.”
He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks stained pink. I sat back with a grin on my face, then looked up at the ceiling, wondering where to start.
“What happened…” I scratched my jaw and shrugged.
“I just didn’t want to play anymore. Not for any of those people.
I didn’t care about any of it, and what had started as a hobby I really loved, something that soothed me, became a chore that I really hated.
Albert was the one who constantly pushed me past my comfort zone.
He was the one who’d gotten me lessons from the most expensive instructor on the east coast, he was the one who made me audition for different studios, he was the one who made me sign with one.
I was too young to really feel like I had a choice in any of it, and I honestly didn’t think I did.
So I just…went with it. I was scared if I didn’t, that Albert would get rid of me, and then I’d never see Val again. ”
I paused, then nodded. “Yeah, I was terrified of that. It was always in the back of my mind, the possibility that I’d be sent back to the foster home.
But I was also a little asshole that did things just so he or Evelyn would pay attention to me.
I gave up on Evelyn pretty quickly, but with Albert, he was always ready to scold me or punish me, take away certain privileges.
If I didn’t do anything bad, he’d just ignore me.
He didn’t give a shit when I succeeded, or if I was good and behaved.
Never said a word to me then. For a long time, I wanted his attention, but only knew how to get it by acting out.
Getting under his skin. And I enjoyed being this annoying gnat to him.
I resented him more than I knew how to deal with on any level, and I wanted him to hurt like he’d made me hurt.
“But yeah…I was fifteen when I went out on that stage and let the world watch me abandon music. Everyone only saw me walk out, but they didn’t see all the days I dealt with this constant feeling of wishing I was doing anything else but that.
Performing for Albert, for people who’d sooner die than hold a hand out to help me up if I fell.
All those people—all that attention—felt so wrong.
I hated it. I only liked playing my own music, stuff I’d improvise on the spot or spend days writing on my own.
I liked toying around with different sounds or playing along to something on the radio.
As soon as I was placed into a box and told what to do, it became something I dreaded. ”
Those days had been rough. That chunk of time felt like I’d been living someone else’s life as I slowly descended into a numb exhaustion.
“I didn’t want to do it anymore, so I walked off that stage and felt like this enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders.
Of course, Albert wasn’t happy at all because I’d fucked over the studio and broken the contract.
But I was fifteen, I didn’t give a shit about any of that or really understand what it meant.
And then a few days later…Everett did this to my face.
” I waved my fingers at the scar. “Albert and Evelyn were away on some trip, and he just…” I swiped my arm in a slashing arc.
“No warning. Just walked up to me with a smile on his face, which in retrospect was probably to confuse me. And it worked, because I just stood there, even after he cut me and was walking away. I just stood there.”
I’d taken myself to the hospital since no one else was home. Fuck, what a day.
“And he told everyone I’d done it to myself, that he’d watched me do it and was afraid of me now, and…everyone believed him. It didn’t matter what I said. That was when I realized that the truth meant nothing to these people. That I meant nothing.”
I took a deep breath. “So then Albert decided I was having a psychotic break of some sort and sent me away for a whole year to an upscale facility a few hours from here.” I laughed and shook my head. “That was not a fun year, definitely don’t recommend doing that if you can avoid it.”
I realized that I hadn’t looked at Reese while telling him all this, and when I glanced his way, my heart cracked in my chest.
“Whoa, what’s—hey, please don’t cry,” I said, kneeling between his legs and framing his face with my hands. “I didn’t bring a jizz rag today.”
He choked on a laugh, somehow managed to glare at me, then brought his soft hands up to my face. “You d-didn’t deserve that,” he said through a series of hitching breaths.
I set my hands over his and pressed them harder into my cheeks. “Do we ever get what we deserve in life?”
His eyes were shiny and so, so green right now. “Sometimes,” he whispered, and then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against my cheek, slid his arms around my neck, and squeezed me tight.
My heart felt like it was splitting open.
He wasn’t hiding behind walls he’d built himself; he’d fallen into a deep, dark pit with no way out.
Here was a side of him he’d tried so hard to hide. If he’d let me, I was more than willing to pull him out of that pit.
“I have to go,” he said with a sniffle. His voice had become flinty, so I pulled back to look him in the eye.
“What? Where? We haven’t finished.”
He stood up, putting my face level with his crotch, and while I’d never complain about that, there was a wild, frenzied look in his eyes that was concerning.
“I have to go kill them,” he said, trying to step around me. “They don’t deserve to live after what they did. No one gets to hurt you like that.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and pushed my face into his stomach. Heat was pulsing down my spine, and my heart felt like it was swelling. “Fuck, Reese. You know it just turns me on when you get like this.”
His hand was on the back of my neck now, those long, pretty fingers massaging into my skin. He sifted them into my hair, and the gentle, affectionate touches made my chest feel like it was about to burst.
I moved my hands down to his pert little ass and squeezed.
He slapped my back. “Damn it, Dakota!”
With a laugh, I lifted his shirt and bit his hip. “We really need to work on this project.” I licked across his stomach, then blew a raspberry into his belly button.
He gasped, then laughed and shoved me off him. “I’m not the one screwing around.”
“Do you wanna be?”
He sighed, then said, “Maybe later.”
I could work with that.
I sat back down on my side of the room and picked up my violin. “I’ll hold you to that. Alright, I just need you to write it down.”
He rifled through his bag for a pencil, then sat back and nodded his head at me. “Okay, just…start over, and go slow.”
“That’s what she said.”
“Damn it, Dakota,” he muttered, but there was a smile twitching at his lips.
The only thing I’d wanted to do since we got into this booth was shove him against the wall and kiss him, to feel those sharp little teeth on my skin, to hear the soft sounds he made as he lost himself in all the sensations.
“Are you gonna play, or…?”
“Sorry, I was just having a quick fantasy. Which is dangerous, since I didn’t bring my jizz rags.”
He tried to hide his smile behind the sheet music, but I saw.
I sat up straight and played him the song I’d written for him—well, with him in mind. But I’d never tell him that because then he would hate it on principle.
I was pretty bad at keeping secrets, though. He’d find out soon enough, and I couldn’t wait for that day.
After we left the booth, Reese told me he had some prep work to do for a class that started soon and he was going to the library to do it—because otherwise I’d just distract him in the room.
I was disappointed, but he was absolutely right.