Chapter 24 – Dakota #3
I was so mad at him for coming here, for getting this drunk, for picking a fight.
My body was trembling violently, and my chest felt so fucking tight it hurt.
It was a miracle he hadn’t tried to fight someone earlier. Or maybe he had, who the fuck knew.
I tried to tell myself it was okay now, that I had him, he was here, right in front of me, and that everything would be okay.
But I knew that was a lie. Something was very, very wrong for him to have come here, to get drunk like this, to destroy our room like that.
But I wasn’t getting any answers tonight, not when he was this fucked up.
I grabbed his hand and started pulling him toward the door, only to be yanked to a stop. He pulled his hand out of mine and started to turn around, so I sighed and took his hand again. He made an angry sound and tried shaking me off him.
I didn’t have time for this shit.
I bent down and hauled him up over my shoulder, holding his legs and walking toward the door. People started cheering and catcalling us, and god, I hated college parties.
“Put me down!”
He started to writhe so violently that I almost dropped him, so I set him on his feet in front of me, holding onto his arms.
Reese immediately tipped forward and mushed his face into my chest, so I grabbed him on either side of his head and tilted it back so I could see his eyes. “Can you even walk?”
“Pfft. Better than you,” he said. His eyes fluttered shut, then rolled open.
That was when I noticed he was only wearing socks.
“Where are your shoes?”
He wiggled his toes. “Hmm. I dunno.”
I wondered how much worse this night was going to get.
I brushed my thumbs near the corners of his eyes. “Hey. Did you take anything? Did someone give you something? Any pills or tablets? Or did you just drink?”
He scrunched his brows together as if deep in thought, then nodded. “I drank. A lot.”
That was obvious. He could’ve taken something after drinking and not even remember, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to fall asleep tonight.
After three days of watching over Val and dealing with constant anxiety, all I’d wanted was for Reese to hold me. Instead, my anxiety had now gone into overtime, and I’d have to watch over him while he slept to make sure he woke up again.
And when he woke up, he’d be getting a fucking earful from me.
And a kiss, but first an earful.
Or maybe a kiss before and after the earful. Yeah.
“Okay. You need to stay awake, just until we get back, okay? Come on, let’s go.”
“Bossy,” he mumbled, letting me slide my hand down his arm and grab onto his. He immediately laced his fingers through mine, and that simple gesture of linking us together so intimately set something in my soul to rights.
I led him out of the house, down the steps, and across the front lawn.
When we got to the curb, he started tugging at my hand, trying to make me let go.
He got his hand free, and I turned around to find him just standing there, squinting at me, swaying where he stood.
He started to fall back, so I grabbed onto the front of the sweatshirt to hold him steady.
“I jus’ remembered I’m mad at you,” he slurred, pointing one long finger at my face.
He poked my cheek, then started stroking it, his half-lidded eyes watching his finger as he slid it down to my jaw, then over to my mouth.
He trailed it along my bottom lip and paused in the corner.
“But how could I be mad at this li’l freckle? ”
I couldn’t help it. I nipped at his finger, and he gasped, pulling it back.
“Fuck,” he muttered. His cheeks, already flushed from the alcohol, darkened even more, and he tilted toward me, his eyes glued to my lips. “I wanna kiss your stupid lips.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and tamped down the desire to let him do whatever the fuck he wanted.
Not now. Not when he was drunk and had no idea what he was doing or saying. Right now, he just needed someone to take care of him and make sure he made it home.
I brushed my knuckles across the softness of his cheek, right over his birthmark. “Maybe tomorrow,” I murmured.
“Okay,” he whispered, leaning into my hand.
And then he gasped, his eyes blowing wide like he’d just realized something. And when those green-brown eyes found mine, there was a wealth of hurt in them.
“No! I—I don’t want to go with you,” he cried. “You—you—” He jabbed his finger into my chest, then flattened his hand on me.
Right over my heart.
“I hate you,” he whispered, staring at his hand on my chest. His eyes welled up, and for a moment, he looked completely lucid and so achingly heartbroken that it gutted me.
“Why do you hate me?” I asked softly.
He shook his head. “This isn’t real. None of this is real. You’re not real. I’m not real. It’s all just a—a miserable nightmare.”
He wasn’t making any sense, but the sadness in his voice, the utter hopelessness, was devastating.
“You disappeared,” he whispered, raising his eyes to mine. “Just…gone.”
“I’m sorry,” I said hoarsely. “I’m sorry I disappeared. Val had to go to the hospital and I accidentally left my phone at our house. I couldn’t leave him. Please don’t be mad. It’s okay if you are, but I need you to understand what happened, so can we talk about this tomorrow when you’re sober?”
I cupped his cheek, brushing my thumb beneath his eye. He closed his eyes and leaned into my hand, then growled, “Who’s the liar now? Lost your phone? You’re a fucking liar. How were you texting me yesterday then? Huh?”
I furrowed my brows and cupped his other cheek, tilting his face up toward mine. “What do you mean, I texted you yesterday? I didn’t have my phone until a few hours ago.”
“You texted me yesterday, you liar,” he cried, slamming his fists into my chest.
I texted him yesterday? That wasn’t possible.
Was he just drunk and didn’t know what he was talking about? Or…
A sinking feeling started pulling at me, like I was being dragged down into quicksand.
“Let me see your phone,” I demanded, feeling around in his pants pockets.
He wobbled on his feet, fingers curling into my forearms to keep himself steady.
I found his phone and pulled it out, then opened up our messages, trying to read them through the cracked screen as I wrapped an arm around him and held him against me.
A coldness began spreading beneath my skin, and I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. It didn’t make any sense. I hadn’t said those things. Those horrible, hurtful, awful, disgusting things. I would never say anything like that to him. Ever.
I looked at my own messages, just to make sure, and they weren’t there on my phone.
Then how…?
A wave of fury surged through me, and I started to shake with the force of it.
Everett.
He was the only one who would’ve done something like this, the only one who could’ve gotten my phone.
No wonder he’d told me all that shit about Reese. He was trying to pit us against each other.
I’d never hated him more than I did in that moment.
Reese’s head fell forward onto my arm, and I wrapped my hand around the nape of his neck, rubbing my fingers into the heated skin there. He was so damn hot, burning up from the all the alcohol.
I pressed my lips into his hair, inhaling that sweet scent and wishing I hadn’t had to leave him alone, wishing I’d just taken him with me when I left.
I’d forever be kicking myself for forgetting my phone at the manor that day.
In a way, this was my fault for leaving it there.
If I’d just remembered to bring it, this never would’ve happened. Reese wouldn’t be this broken up.
Fuck.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, and when he choked on a sob, I wrapped both arms around him and crushed him to me. “I’m so fucking sorry, Reese.”
“I hate you,” he blubbered. “I hate you, I really, seriously, hate you, Dakota.”
Every word was like a knife to the gut, sliding deeper and deeper.
I knew I could explain to him in the morning that it hadn’t been me who sent those texts, that hopefully he’d believe me, and I could apologize forever…
but it would never undo the damage that had already been done.
It would never take this pain away, even after he knew it wasn’t me.
“Let’s go home. Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed, okay? You’ll feel better after you get some sleep.”
He was mumbling into my chest now, and I could tell by the way he was barely able to stay upright that he was getting ready to pass out soon. He wasn’t even wearing any shoes, and I wasn’t letting him walk all the way back like that.
I picked him up and he didn’t protest, just wrapped his arms around my neck and locked his legs around me.
I had one hand curled around the back of his head, an arm underneath his ass, supporting him.
He burrowed his face into my throat with a small sound, almost a whimper, clinging to me as if I hadn’t broken his heart.
And as much as I was hurting for him, I was mad at him for being so careless with himself, for putting himself in a situation where he was utterly vulnerable. With strangers, no less. A pack of assholes.
Anything could’ve happened. Fucking anything. And I never would have known if he hadn’t texted me. What would I have done then? Just sat in that mess of a room with my head in my hands, waiting for him to return? I doubt he would’ve made it home on his own, not in this state.
Maybe something had already happened and he didn’t even know. That frat was generally pretty harmless, especially compared to some of the others, but still…there was no screening process for those parties. Anyone could go.
I held him tighter, wondering if I could just keep holding him like this for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to let him go, not for anything. I wanted to keep him here in my arms, where I could protect him, make sure he was safe.