Chapter Fifty-Three – Fawn #2
At the end of the bed, my foot catches my eye, and I notice my bandage has unraveled slightly. Reaching down, I do my best to tighten it without waking Dylan. “Thank you for bandaging me up, by the way.”
No luck — he doesn’t say a word. He inhales sharply then exhales, still not looking at me.
“Torin,” I murmur. “Please . . . say something.”
His voice is deep, as though it is being extracted from his soul. “If I speak, I’ll lose it again, and I don’t want to be angry in front of you.” He swallows hard. “What I want to do is break every fucking bone in the coach’s body. That vile man blackmailed you.”
My heart lurches with sharp pain, guilt burning like a bright light in my chest. “I understand, but we have to think about this.”
The truth about the coach tasted like dirt on my tongue when I told them. It killed me to witness the looks on their faces as they realized the man who molded them now had no qualms about ending them.
Torin starts biting his thumbnail. “I fucking knew it,” he says. “I knew you didn’t just leave because you thought you weren’t good enough. I knew there had to be more.”
My eyes shift down to Dylan; he looks so small compared to everything he’s had to carry recently. “I thought I was protecting you, both of you.”
Finally, Torin turns his eyes, furious and broken all at once. “You don’t protect us by hurting yourself and us, baby,” he says. “We’re a team, Fawn. The three of us.”
“I know . . .” Tears spill over before I can stop them. “I know that now.”
He reaches over Dylan and rests his hand over mine. “You have to make me a promise: no more running and no more secrets.”
“I promise, Torin.”
Torin takes my hand and presses a kiss to my knuckles. “That’s my girl.”
The room falls silent, rain pattering against the window. Dylan lets out a small snore, and it makes me smile.
“I’m surprised he fell asleep after I told him about the coach.” My thumb trails across Dylan’s arm, circling it slowly. I need his warmth in order to believe I’m really here.
Torin sighs deep through his nose. “Honestly? I think his body just quit fighting. He hadn’t left his room for almost a week.” He shakes his head. “I had to force smoothies on him and nudge him to take a shower. To do anything, really.”
There it is, the guilt demon gnawing at me, clawing its way up my chest.
I know every part of him is aching right now, even the parts he doesn’t have words for yet.
“I should’ve been there. I’m sorry—” My sentence shrivels in my throat. I can’t finish it without falling apart.
Torin’s gaze softens, not guarded. Not angry, just . . . honest. “Fawn,” he says quietly, “if you’d been here and seen him like that, you would’ve broken too.”
Maybe I would’ve broken, but only because I love him, and I care so much, it hurts.
I try my hardest to blink back fresh tears. “He went through so much without me. I hate that I wasn’t there to hold him.”
“You’re holding him now, and that counts for more than you think.” He shifts closer, careful not to wake Dylan. “You being back? That’s the first time I’ve seen him breathe properly since you vanished.”
A loud gulp escapes from me. “I was so scared of ruining everything and hurting you both in the process.”
“You leaving hurt. In fact, it killed,” he admits bluntly. “But I understand it’s not because you didn’t care, but because you cared too fucking much—” He stops talking for a second but manages to forge ahead. “Listen, we’ll get through this together, and we’ll help him.”
I nod, but my mind is going into overdrive, a storm is brewing in my gut. “Torin, I know you won’t let the coach get away with what he’s done.”
He lets out a deep exhale, and then his lips curl into a savage smile.
My eyes widen, and before he can answer, I rush on. “I just don’t want you getting in trouble or hurting yourself.”
“Oh no, baby, you don’t worry about that,” He sounds ominously calm. “I’m just going to make sure that video is erased from the face of the Earth.”
Well, that doesn’t help my anxiety. Why do I feel like that isn’t all he’s got planned?
I guess what I don’t know won’t hurt me, right?
“Torin, I know the coach saved you in your darkest hour, and I’m sorry he turned out to be—”
“A vile sack of shit I wouldn’t piss on if he was on fire.”
I don’t know how to reply.
“I always knew there was something rotten in him,” he says quietly. “I just could never put my finger on it.”
A beat of silence.
“How are your feet?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Sore. I don’t recommend running through a forest barefoot. How’s your nose?”
“Well, Dylan definitely has one hell of a bony elbow. It’s not broken, and I’m breathing out of it, so that’s a fucking win.”
A little giggle escapes me, and my hands automatically twirl my necklace, something I do when I’m nervous now.
Torin’s eyes wander down to my collarbone. “You . . . you kept it on?”
“Of course I did. The photo of us was the only thing that kept me going.”
“Oh, Fawn. I love you.”
Before I can say those words back, he loops a hand behind my neck. Our lips meet in a kiss that deepens into something more, as if we are pouring all the unsaid things into this one act. This is what I’ve been missing, and I’m so desperate for this feeling to never end.
Reluctantly, I pull my lips from his, our foreheads resting against each other. “I missed you, Torin.”
“I missed you too, baby.”