22. TWENTY-TWO
TWENTY-TWO
I don’t know when my head stopped ringing, or when the sound of my own bones crunching finally went away. I thought for sure when the searing pain began my body would give up and everything would disappear into black nothingness.
It’s just a blur.
A blur of sobs that aren’t mine and an agonizing pain that sends jolts throughout my entire body. It’s surprisingly easy to open my eyes, since it almost feels like I’m not even here in this moment.
Somehow Finn carried me to the bed, but I’m too scared to lift the covers up. I don’t want to see what he did to me. I don’t want to see what I already know is there. The pain isn’t prominent but it sure as hell isn’t gone.
“I cleaned it up,” he says softly while fixing the blankets.
His hand is cold, snaking down my torso and past my thigh.
Somewhere along the way I can’t feel him anymore, which is frightening because it hurts so much that’s all I can feel.
“I’m so sorry, Dunk. I didn’t… Shoot, I didn’t want to.
But I could tell… You—you wanted to leave me… You can’t leave me… I need you…”
Even if I wanted to reply I just don’t have the strength to speak. All I can do is gaze at him with empty eyes. The guilty look on his face is enough for me to know that he knows.
“Duncan…” Finn whines even though he’s so far from being the victim here.
Forcing his way onto the bed with me, he huffs and nuzzles into my forearm.
Pulling me into a very awkward side hug, he gives me the most pitiful expression I’ve seen in a while.
“I’m sorry… Please say something—do something… ”
What the hell does he want me to say? Am I supposed to coddle him and tell him that it’s okay? That its okay that he broke my legs? He’s so miserable it’s a joke, and I know he knows it. Only one word comes out: “Why?”
“You were gonna leave. T-That’s it. I didn’t want to. I-I swear. I didn’t have… a choice. P-Please don’t make me do it again…”
Everything is getting to me. I’m about to combust from stress at this rate. I want to yell, or maybe I just want to scream. Anything other than this. Laying here so weakly while he clings to my unmoving form. “There was a choice. You didn’t… You didn’t have to do that. You know that…”
“I did!” Finn pushes himself up, frowning at me. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of you. You’ll see that I can take real good care of you. I really… I’m going to be good to you. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever.”
For a moment I forget all about how bad my legs hurt and how swirly my stomach is. My lips part but nothing comes out.
“Boyfriend…?” I’ve never had one of those, and this crazy ass psychopath certainly isn’t about to be my first. The laugh that follows is anything but a happy one. “What are you talking about?”
A cold hand moves to cup my cheek, his thumb stroking my tanned skin with a twitchy rhythm. “I love you, Duncan. More than anything, more than anyone. I was put on this Earth to protect you, and keep you safe.”
My entire life, I thought that crazy people were something you only saw on TV. But having Finn stare at me with nothing but adoration on his obnoxiously cute face while he spouts some of the most unhinged shit I’ve ever heard is really throwing me through the wringer.
He’s not just crazy, he’s batshit psychotic.
Those hazel eyes hold the same warm emotions they did before, and his voice is that syrupy sweet baritone that made me trust him in the first place. He really doesn’t think he’s doing anything wrong, does he?
“Are you kidding me?” I can’t bite my tongue anymore. “Look at me, Finn. How is this protecting me? Keeping me safe? Are you… are you joking? You’re joking, right? P-Please, Finn! I don’t understand…!”
This is too much. The last little strand of sanity I have finally breaks, and the waterworks come out in full force. Shaking, my fingers dig into his green plaid hoodie. I don’t know how long I’ve been out of it, because I could’ve sworn he was wearing something different a few hours ago.
“It’s okay,” he coos while stroking the back of my head. Despite my brain screaming at me to push him away, I don’t have the energy nor the strength to care. It’s easier to just pretend things are fine. At least someone is here to care that I’m crying, right?
How many nights did I spend alone sobbing into my pillow? How many days did I spend staring at the ceiling pretending that everything in my life was okay? I have nobody and nothing, except him.
And the worst part is I don’t even want him.
Why would I want the comfort of the man who’s keeping me here? Who broke my legs? I shouldn’t, but it feels almost as if I need it. Like I need someone to care about me and see that I’m struggling, but why does it have to be him?
Either way it feels nice to have him hold me, whispering sweet things while being so gentle with me. I almost wish he was my boyfriend, but in a different scenario—one where he doesn’t lock me in a basement because he can’t process the fact that people have lives.
I must be broken to enjoy this, to enjoy being held by the very cause of my agony.
“I’ll make sure it heals properly.” He probably thinks he’s being sweet. “I’ll help you with anything you need, Dunk. I gave you a quick bath earlier, but if you want another one, or you want something to eat—”
“I want you to let me go.” My voice cracks at the end of my sentence. Can’t he see how awful things are? Why is he trying to play pretend like this is all okay? “I-I don’t wanna die down here, Finn…”
His brows go so high you’d swear I hit him. “I would never let that happen to you. I know… your legs… but there was a reason for that! I swear! It wasn’t because I wanted to…!”
“You can’t make excuses for everything…”
Finn doesn’t stop petting me. Despite being shorter than I am, he is stronger.
I knew he was a little bigger but I didn’t realize he had so much strength.
I can feel it when his hand begins to tense up and it’s more akin to his nails scraping against my scalp.
“It’s not an excuse. I need you here… J-Just until you love me, too. ”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will. I know you will,” he whispers in an all too hopeful tone.
His clammy hands move from my hair to my cheeks, tilting my head up so our eyes meet.
As wrong as it is, I want to believe that adorkable cashier I thought I knew is still there somewhere.
But that’s really only a fantasy at this point, and I’m not naive enough to ignore that.
Finn’s pupils are blown wide as he stares at me. “You’re so beautiful.”
Only when he starts pulling me closer do I jerk my head away. I’m dumbfounded by the audacity. He just did something so horrible to me and then thinks he has the right to kiss me?
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Harsh words spill from my lips with no hesitation. “Did you actually think—? Seriously?”
“T-Too soon,” Finn stammers, staring at me with a bright red face. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I thought—”
“You thought what? I’d forgive you? Because I’m crying? How pathetic do you think I am, Finn?” For years all this anger inside me has been bubbling under, but what do I even have to lose at this point? I can’t even walk anymore. “Like—you must be absolutely insane if you think… If you think…”
Was the room always this dark? My eyelids are so heavy, and the pain in my lower half is kinda gone. Maybe this all really was some kind of horribly twisted nightmare all along.
God, I sure hope so.