Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
MASON
I stood outside Dakota’s class building with a bouquet of flowers in my fist. Yes, flowers.
She was going to forgive me, and everything was going to be fine. Micah had thrown me off—that was why it’d all gone wrong. He affected me in ways I didn’t have words to explain. I could still hear his voice in my head, feel his hands on my body, smell Dakota’s scent on the pillow under my face.
I don’t want to look at you.
It wasn’t easy for me to see him at all after all these years, as much as I tried to pretend otherwise. I hated every molecule of his body, every fiber of his soul, but my hatred was messy. It was hatred rooted in hurt, not anger.
I could fight him, argue with him, maybe even fuck him without too much agony, but that didn’t change the facts. He’d ripped my entire life away in a matter of seconds when he’d left me, and that wound had never really healed. I just guarded it better now.
And the problem with guarded wounds was that the people who’d created them in the first place usually knew how to reach them anyway.
The one person who I needed to protect myself from the most was the same one who I’d given the map of my soul to.
He knew where every bruise was, knew just how hard to push.
But he wasn’t here now.
Dakota was here.
And I had no plans of repeating what’d happened the last time I’d been standing in this very spot, when I’d trapped her in my car and forced her to admit Micah was one of her professors. I thought of the fear in her eyes, the lack of neon in my lungs, the panic blacking out my thoughts.
My weight crushing her hand against the door handle.
Then I thought about her head under the water in the bath, my hand keeping her there, all the venomous words she’d thrown at me afterwards.
I’d never wanted to actually kill her until she said that.
You would choose Micah over me.
I fucking wonder why.
It was the worst knowledge she could’ve possibly shackled me with, and I’d had to fight against it every second afterwards. Had to fight the urge to do anything necessary to keep her for myself.
But she was right; it wasn’t fair of me to say that to her then.
Not when she was already so unstable, not when we were fighting like that, not when I was being the absolute worst version of myself.
Maybe she hadn’t meant it. Maybe I could change her mind.
Maybe she wasn’t fully slipping out of my grasp yet.
I had to cling to those hopes, because if I didn’t…
There would truly be nothing left for me on this Earth. I knew with absolute certainty that if Dakota left me for him, I wouldn’t survive. I barely survived him leaving me. She would be the final nail in my waterlogged coffin, the final push off the edge of oblivion.
If I lost both of them to each other, there was no force that could keep me here. I’d succumb to the death that’d been chasing me my entire life, that cruel fate I could never outrun.
The door next to me punched open and I turned my head, eyes tracking the slow trickle of students leaving the building. Eventually, Dakota emerged. She was putting her earbuds in her ears, oblivious to the fact that I was watching her.
“Dakota,” I said as I stepped off the wall and laid my palm on her shoulder.
She jumped and spun around frantically.
Her eyes flicked down to the flowers as I offered them to her, then back up to my face.
She looked like she was terrified but trying to hide it.
I didn’t like that. I liked her scared, but not like this.
Scared of something I was doing to her, scared of her own fucked up desires, but not scared of me, just standing close to her.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I fucked up and I need to fix it.”
“Flowers aren’t going to fix this,” she argued, stepping to the side of the sidewalk so we weren’t blocking the way.
“I know. And if you don’t want to come with me now, I won’t make you.” It was a fight to say the words, but I had to show her I was willing to do this her way. “But I am here to ask you to spend the afternoon with me.”
“You’re being fucking weird.” She crossed her arms. “I’m not sure you’ve ever asked me to do anything. You usually just make me do it.”
“Do you want me to try, or not?”
Dakota was quiet for a minute, but I could see it in her eyes. She wanted this. She hated that she wanted this. We were both broken, but being broken together felt better than being broken alone. All her rough edges matched all of mine. The same self-destructive streak ran heavy in both of us.
“Where would you take me if I went with you?”
“To the beach.” My heart started beating harder with nerves. “I have things to tell you.” It would be easier to lay myself bare surrounded by crashing waves, dark sand, sharp rocks, and wind blowing through Dakota’s gorgeous hair.
“Fine. And why did you get these flowers?” She looked down at the red roses in my hand, clear disgust on her face. “Did you think I would like them or something?”
A shocked laugh burst out of my chest, Dakota’s gaze flying back up to my face, her eyebrows lifting.
“No,” I said through my surprised laughter. “I did not think you would like these, but the options at the store were very limited. I didn’t think you’d actually voice your distaste, though.”
“Oh.” There was a smile teasing the edges of her mouth, but she was suppressing it. “Yeah. I’d never pick these for myself.”
“Understood. Thanks for letting me know.”
“You’re welcome.”
I tried to grab her hand, but she snatched it away, that scowl creeping back onto her delicate features. I didn’t try again, and we walked across campus together, but not holding hands or touching in any way. I deserved it.
“I’m hungry,” Dakota said as I shut the driver’s side door and started the car, heat starting to trickle out of the vents. The roses had already been tossed on the back seat and forgotten.
“We can get food.”
She had her head turned out the window, looking away from me, and did not respond. I put the car in gear then pulled out of the lot, driving slowly until I got off campus and onto the wider roads.
“I also need a new journal,” she added after a few minutes of me driving in silence. “Mine is full.”
“We can get that, too.”
“And some decorations for the journal.”
“My wallet is your wallet.” I glanced over at her, my eyes tracing the curve of her cheek while she stared out at the oil painting of Washington’s late autumn scenery.
“Okay.” She seemed satisfied enough.
We stopped at a craft store, and I walked around with Dakota while she browsed and gave me things to hold, proving that my decision not to grab a basket when we entered was stupid. I wasn’t going to admit that, I just…hadn’t expected she was going to get so many little items.
Her new journal, black and leather-bound, with an elastic strap to keep it shut.
Three kinds of lace. Some ribbon; a velvety black one and a white satin one, different widths.
Many silver charms and some strings of beads.
Glue. Scissors. I almost questioned her on the scissors—because I knew she had scissors in her bedroom—but if she wanted scissors right now, she could have scissors right now.
I actually did get money from the Syndesmos—the place serving as a link between Heaven and Earth—for killing demons, and taking care of Aamon had only provided me more of that.
Once I’d reported his death, I’d been generously compensated.
I could afford some ribbon and charms. Even though I wasn’t entirely convinced all of these things were actually going to end up on the journal.
She grabbed a package of sour gummy candy from the checkout line and I purchased everything, then walked out with her, the plastic bag of stuff crinkling with gusts of wind.
Back in the car, she took my phone and put on her own music.
Beware by Deftones.
I listened to the song, my hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.
Everything about the lyrics reminded me of her. How she knew the flavor of our violence and still didn’t stay away from me—not as much as she should’ve. We were never safe, never predictable. Just like the ocean.
I got her chicken nuggets and fries with a big cup of ice water, then finally started heading towards the beach. The pit in my stomach grew heavier with each minute we got closer to those dark sands.
I parked us in the same gravelly area as always, staring out past the edge of the cliff at the ocean.
Beware…
The water would always be dangerous.
Dakota ate her food, then let me help her down the rocks to the beach, her bag of journaling supplies gripped in her fist. The wind coming off the ocean was chilly, smelling like salt and inevitability.
We sat together on Dakota’s favorite rock, and I just stared at her while she got out the journal and some ribbon, a few blonde strands of hair curling around her face.
“Do you have something to say?” she asked, still focused on the black velvet ribbon.
“I’m sorry,” I started. “I really, really fucked up.”
I noticed her fingers were trembling slightly. I looked away, down at the sand.
“Yeah,” she said softly.
“I was pissed off, which you knew, and I just…It’s really fucking hard for me to talk about why. I don’t talk about it with anyone. Ever.”
“I’m not anyone, Mason.”
“I know. That’s why I’m here.” I took a steadying breath. “Because I love you so much it scares me, and sometimes it makes me act in ways I know I shouldn’t.”
She was quiet.
“You were right. Someone left me,” I said. The words felt like acid burning up my throat and over my tongue, stinging my lips on the way out. “Someone I loved,” I continued. “And it was fucking awful.”
Dakota stared up at me and there were questions in her gaze, but she didn’t voice any of them. She let me have this.
It was almost surreal, admitting it out loud. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I told her I didn’t talk about this with anyone. The only other person in the universe who I might’ve been comfortable enough to show this wound to was the one who’d given it to me in the first place.