Chapter 18 #2
Dylan sighs. He crosses his arms, regarding me. I wilt before his obvious disappointment. “I hate the idea of you taking sleeping pills every night for the rest of your life. No way is that healthy.”
Better than the alternative. I bite my tongue, shrugging. “I’ve been on them since I was thirteen, and they haven’t killed me yet.”
Dylan hisses in a breath. From his aghast look, that statement must not have been as comforting as I’d hoped. “You’ve been taking them for that long? Christ, Ash, you were just a kid!”
Something tightens in my gut as I think back to those first awful nights after Mom’s funeral when I’d gone to live with the Ellingtons.
I’d wake up in a cold sweat, half-delirious with terror and screaming my head off.
And though the Ellingtons had never admitted as much, I’m pretty sure from their pale faces and haunted eyes that I hadn’t been the only one in that house to suffer my nightmares.
“The Ellingtons got me the prescription not long after I moved in with them. Though looking back, I’m not sure if it was for my benefit or for theirs.”
Dylan’s expression hardens, a fury I’ve never seen in him before burning in his golden gaze. “They had no right to do that to you!”
I shrug, chuckling darkly. “It was the best gift they ever gave me.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
Sighing, I stand and stretch. I move over to my desk, opening a drawer and taking out my bottle of sleeping pills. The orange plastic glints in the lamplight. “The last time I forgot to take these before that night with you after the party was the night the Ellingtons kicked me out.”
I hear the creak of my mattress along with his soft footfalls as Dylan rises and approaches. I don’t turn, staring at the pill bottle as if transfixed. I flinch slightly when Dylan’s hands settle on my sides. Closing my eyes, I lean back into his comforting touch.
“What happened?” he asks softly.
An image of Harvey’s traumatized face flickers past my mind’s eye. Briefly, I consider begging off. So far, Dylan’s honored every boundary I’ve set. If I tell him to leave it alone, he will.
Then, I consider Dylan’s own reaction to my dreamwalking. Instead of fleeing as far away from me as he could, he’d compiled a goddamn research paper on the subject. He’s proven time and again that I can trust him.
So, in a halting voice, I tell him all about Harvey and that last awful night we’d spent trapped in a nightmare of my own making. “I never saw him after that,” I whisper. A faint shudder races through me. “I…I just hope he’s okay after what I put him through.”
I fall silent, waiting anxiously for Dylan’s reaction. Would this be the last straw that finally makes him realize how dangerous it is to be around me? I don’t dare turn around for fear of seeing the same empty look on his face I’d seen on Harvey’s.
Dylan’s hands fall away from my sides, and my stomach sinks, resignation weighing down my limbs. This is it—the moment he pulls away for good like he should’ve done from the start.
“Oh, Ash.”
To my utter astonishment, rough hands spin me around. Before I can fully process what’s happening, Dylan has me wrapped in a tight embrace, cradling my head with one hand and the small of my back with the other. All the tension whooshes out of me in a sudden gust as I sag against him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” I say, my voice hoarse with clogged emotion. “But Harvey’s just the tip of the iceberg. Before him, back when I still lived with my parents…” I swallow, darkness threatening to drag me under. “Well, let’s just say things got a whole lot worse.”
“It’s okay,” Dylan says, stroking my back.
“Sorry for pushing you. I promise I won’t bring it up again—not without a good reason.
” He hesitates. “Though, for the record, I stand by what I said. I know it’s scary, but that’s all the more reason to learn everything you can.
And who knows? When you do finally face that fear, maybe you’ll discover you have more control than you thought. ”
Remembering my mom’s dull face, her body splayed atop her blanket like a life-sized doll, I shudder. “Yeah. Maybe.” Forcing the memory away, I snake my hand under the hem of Dylan’s shirt, tracing the edge of his hip.
Dylan sucks in a breath, a sudden heat transforming his eyes into molten gold. “Are you trying to distract me?” he murmurs.
My other hand cups his ass and squeezes as I step in closer to him, rubbing up against him. “Yep,” I breathe against his cheek, kissing a line up his jaw. “Is it working?”
Growling, he writhes against me. “Definitely. Though it’s not fair when you know nothing can come from it right now.”
I open my mouth to make a lewd joke, but before I can, footsteps resound on the stairs. We jerk apart, both of us attempting to adjust and smooth out any wrinkles in our clothes.
Aunt Claudette appears in my doorway a moment later.
“Hey boys,” she says while Onyx lets out a pleased meow and scampers over, winding against her leg.
If she’s surprised to see Dylan here, she doesn’t let it show.
Which…fair, considering he’s been here almost every day the past couple weeks.
“I was thinking of baking some scones. Either of you want any?”
“No thanks, Ms. Brown,” Dylan says, a slight flush in his neck the only sign of what we’d been up to.
I shake my head, muffling a snort at his awkwardness. “Nah, I’m fine.”
“Suit yourselves,” Aunt Claudette says, turning back toward the stairs. “They’ll be ready in about an hour if you change your minds.”
I watch her depart before turning back to Dylan, meeting his grin with one of my own. I’d told my aunt I was fine, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I think I might actually mean it.