Chapter 27 #2
Again, my mouth flops soundlessly, my thoughts fuzzy and disoriented.
“Like… like you’re actually wanting to date me?” I ask, my voice pitching higher with incredulity. “Why?”
He smirks, mirth dancing in his eyes as he saunters toward me. I suppress the urge to back away, my muscles locking tight as he nears. By the time he pauses an inch away, my chest aches from the need to breathe.
He crooks his forefinger beneath my chin before running the pad of his thumb down my bottom lip, further ensnaring me in his intense gaze.
“Because I like you, Reverie,” he whispers, one corner of his lips curling and hinting at the dimple above his cheek. “I like you more than just a friend, and I like more than just your pussy. I like you.” He pauses a beat, and then adds, “So fucking much.”
I recoil again, shock stealing my breath.
What the fuck?
I’ve jumped timelines. Maybe I was even sucked into a wormhole and shat out into a different reality.
It’s the only explanation for why the fuck Dreadful Sharpe is telling me he has feelings for me.
His stare dips to my lips, and when it rises again, my stomach flips.
There’s definitely something brewing beyond the ice circling his pupils, but instead of chilling my blood like it usually does, it heats, building to a boil in a matter of seconds.
Something is different about him tonight. He’s quieter. Serious. I’ve gotten so used to seeing cruel smiles or murderous rage, his contemplative silence is jarring.
“You didn’t talk to me the entire week you were gone,” I state plainly, my voice cracking.
“Falling for the daughter of my mother’s killer is a lot to process.”
If he says any more, he’s going to send me into cardiac arrest. I can only stare up at him, stunned into silence for what feels like the millionth time.
Meanwhile, my insides are in complete chaos. Everything feels out of whack, like a toy disassembled and then reassembled all wrong. All the cells in my body are having meltdowns, nothing where it should be, everything out of order.
“B-but I need to leave,” I say. “I need to go back to Silent Mist.”
Something insidious sparks in his eyes. “Why?”
“Because Lionel wants me to. If I don’t, he’ll kill Mindy, if he hasn’t already. Or hurt someone else.”
“You’re not going anywhere, Reverie.” His voice is dark, and full of promise. “Lionel will find endless reasons to hurt someone. That will never stop, even if you return to Silent Mist.”
He’s right, but it doesn’t make me feel any less guilty if I stay.
“You can’t leave me, darling,” he says quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.
“Why?” I ask, my voice faint.
A crease forms between his brows, appearing tormented as he says, “Because it would break me.”
My jaw falls open, thunderstruck. That was the last thing I expected him to say, and it sends my insides into disarray yet again, making it impossible to respond coherently.
“We’ll keep it at that for tonight,” he murmurs.
My brows wrinkle, not understanding what he means. It sounds like he’s suggesting there’s more to it than that, but he’s turning away before I can press.
“Let’s go, Rev. We don’t have all night,” he calls.
It takes several seconds before I find my voice again.
“W-what?” I stammer. “For what? What are we doing?”
He stops by the steps leading into the shallow end of the water and then hooks his thumbs into his joggers before sliding them down, revealing his black boxer briefs.
I try to swallow, but once more, the saliva crashes into my heart lodged at the base of my throat, making it impossible to breathe again.
“Who do you think can teach you to swim better? Me or yourself?”
My mouth opens and then snaps closed again.
This is a trick.
It has to be.
Again, he must read my expression, because his face becomes eerily serious.
“I’m not going to drown you,” he repeats, more firmly this time. “I promise.” Then, he holds out his hand toward me, that sinful smirk emerging once again. “Swim with me, darling. If I’m going to make you choke, I assure you, it won’t be on water.”
I give him a dry, unimpressed look, but when he only continues to stand there with his hand held out, the urge to grab it takes hold.
It would be incredibly stupid to trust the person who’s gone out of his way to make my life a living hell. The person who, not too long ago, threatened to drown me if I didn’t fuck him.
Yet, I consider it anyway.
Truthfully, I can’t explain why I want to trust him. Maybe because he just admitted to having feelings for me.
But what if that's just another one of his tricks?
I have every reason to question his motives. In fact, I should call out for Rogue to save me.
Except there’s a soft whisper in the back of my head, coercing me to take his hand and let him prove he’s capable of making me feel anything other than agony when he's not between my legs.
Tightening my lips, I regard him with caution as I take a few steps toward him and grab his hand.
My muscles are strung tight, and any second, I’m prepared for the switch. Instead, he closes his fingers around mine, practically swallowing my hand in his, before gently pulling me to the stairs into the pool.
My feet are cinder blocks as we approach, and when we pause before the steps, it might as well lead down into the pits of hell.
Adrenaline releases into my system immediately. Before he arrived, I planned to just go full throttle and jump into the water—albeit, still in the shallow end—so I’m a little confused when he steps onto the first step in the water then sits on the cement with his knees spread wide.
He points to the top step, where several inches of water cover his feet. “Come stand here, between my legs.”
He stares up at me expectantly, so after a moment of hesitation, I slowly inch toward the edge until I'm standing beside him. Except, when I go to step down, my feet don’t move. My muscles have solidified, anchoring me to the floor.
My heart beats heavily against my rib cage, and a cold sweat blooms across my nape and palms.
Just take a step.
That’s it. Just a step.
But I still can’t move.
“Rev,” he whispers, grabbing my hand again. “I’m right here.”
I nod, the movement choppy as I audibly swallow. For reasons I don’t care to consider, his hand over mine feels safe, enough to lift my foot over his leg and step into the cool water. It sends ice shooting through my veins, and every one of my muscles freezes solid.
Dread urges me to sidestep, centering me between his knees. My ass is directly in his face, but that’s the last thing on my mind.
It took me years not to panic in a bathtub, even longer to stand beneath a shower. A pool was something I never dared to even contemplate.
I might as well be standing in a pit of fire. Everything in me is screaming for me to get out. I’m in danger, on the cusp of death, and if I don’t turn back now, I’ll meet an agonizing, slow demise.
“This was stupid,” I squeak, going to turn to get out, but his hands fly to either side of my thighs, stopping me.
“Why quit when you’re already winning?” he asks.
I’m shaking my head before he’s finished. My entire body trembles, and a pressure forms on the back of my head, right where my mother gripped me, holding me beneath the water.
I feel her now. Each finger tangled in my hair. The sharp pricks from her nails digging into my scalp. The weight of her palm pushing and pushing.
My lungs fill with fire, and I can’t breathe. Each inhale invites more and more water into my lungs. I’m drowning, and I can’t fucking brea—
A sharp sting ignites on the swell of my ass cheek, jolting me out of the panic consuming me. I gasp and twist at the waist, finding Dread staring up at me with an intense look on his face.
Rattled and confused, I glance down at my butt to find a perfect set of teeth imprinted into my skin, saliva dotted around it.
“Did… did you just bite my ass?” I ask, the words coming out in a breathless rush.
“You left me,” he says in place of a proper response.
I gape at him, at a loss for how to respond. However, he doesn’t bother waiting for one. He scoots back a few inches, creating space between him and the edge of the pool, then nods toward the gap between his legs.
“Sit.”
My body obeys before my brain can command it, likely because my legs feel like gelatin, and if I don’t, I’ll end up falling instead.
I have just enough room to fit between his thighs, though half my ass is hanging off the edge. He’s pressed tightly into me, body heat emanating from him in waves.
It’s awful how grounding it feels. How safe. It’s absolutely terrible that the residual anxiety ebbs beneath the press of his bare skin against my back.
It doesn’t dissipate completely, leaving me tense and on edge, but I’m no longer wanting to claw at my throat in desperation for air.
I release a shaky breath, embarrassment stinging my cheeks now that clarity is settling back in.
This is a much different approach than when Dread threw me in the pool.
Him kissing me had only kept me temporarily distracted, but the second I climbed out of the pool, all I could feel was the weight of the water engulfing my body.
The memories flooded my brain by the time I locked myself in my dorm room, and it took hours before I could take a full breath again.
At least then, I could break down in the safety of my room—alone. Dread seeing me freak out is akin to slime coating every inch of my skin. It’s suffocating and uncomfortable.
Silently, Dread reaches past me, scoops up a handful of water, and pours it over my thigh. Goosebumps instantly break out across my entire body, and the little hairs coating my arms stand on end. I shiver, though it isn’t the temperature of the water cooling my blood.
“When you move through water, it separates to allow you inside it,” he says softly. “It yields to you.”