75. Dollie—present day #3
“Then why do you keep running back to him?” Ambrose’s words are as cold as death. “Why did you even stay with him all those years ago? Annabelle’s family would have taken you in.”
“He offered.” I shrug, not having any other answer to give. “He came to the police station for me after I was questioned.”
“How noble.”
“I didn’t know what to do. I’d always relied on you, and you weren’t there.”
“It wasn’t a choice, Dollie.”
“It was a choice to tell the police the things you did.”
“I asked you to run.”
“I was in shock.”
“So was I. I spent years in shock, wondering how the fuck life just continued to get worse. Sat in a tiny cell. Day in, day out. You never once visited. I was alone, with only one person. That freak of all the fucking people. And then I came home to a town where everyone hates me, and you still weren’t here for me.
You abandoned me when I needed you the most. Because of him. ”
“I was afraid, you know this.”
“Again, because of him, and you were there, with him, giving him parts of yourself that should have belonged to me.” Ambrose’s throat gets too dry for him to continue.
He licks his lips. “And even now, you’re still choosing him.
You’re still with him. Even last night, when I was begging you, down on my fucking knees, to choose me instead.
You said it was done, that you just needed until morning.
But you went back into that room after this happened.
All these fucking bruises, and you had sex with him.
It makes no sense. You could have turned on the light and told me what happened.
You could have stayed. You could have chosen me. ”
“I am choosing you. I was trying to protect you.”
“I’m not the one who needs protecting. God, Dollie, you’re trying so hard to fight your demons, but you keep jumping into bed with a monster. And it isn’t fucking happening anymore.” Ambrose swallows hard. “I can’t watch you with him. I won’t do it.”
Every word sinks into my soul. My wet eyes drip onto his pillow, leaving a damp patch below me that’s cold on my neck as I nuzzle in closer.
“I’m just afraid. I didn’t want to go back to him last night. I wanted to stay with you. I’m just afraid of telling him no when he’s in a bad mood.”
Ambrose stiffens, his whole body turning rigid and hot as he burns at my side. His eyes narrow into angry slits. “And did that happen last night?” Those narrowing eyes meet mine. “Were you afraid to tell him no last night?”
Subconsciously, my fingers tighten on Ambrose’s tight stomach.
Rounded nails dig into his gown, and it’s the only answer I can give before the door to his hospital room opens and crashes into the wall.
The noise of heavy wood smashing into plaster sends my heart leaping into my chest. No doctor would do that, and if they did, a quick apology would follow.
It doesn’t.
I sit up so fast my head spins before my body. Shane steps into the room, his dark shadow acting like a heavy force against my heart.
Without even realizing what I’m doing, my fingers tighten around Ambrose’s hand in a bruising grip as my heart rate speeds up.
His thumb runs over my skin, back and forth, in a soothing motion.
“What the fuck are you doing in bed with him?” Shane snaps.
“What are you doing here?” the whisper creeps out.
“No!” He charges into the room. “You answer my question. Why are you in his fucking bed? I’ve been calling you!”
I sink in on myself as Shane stomps forward to the bed.
“Dollie,” Ambrose whispers close to my ear, tucking behind pink strands and accidentally bumping my earrings.
Slowly turning to Ambrose and away from Shane’s anger, my eyes plead, and my fingers press into him. My body trembles with fear as I sit under Shane’s shadow. The cotton gown between my moving fingers doesn’t soothe me, and I feel panic rising up my throat until I can’t breathe.
“Slow breaths,” he encourages, his perfectly shaped mouth showing me the way.
I focus on his lips, the pretty pink shade so different from the red I usually see.
Ignoring the shaking of the bed from Ambrose’s barely concealed anger, I suck in air and breathe out as he instructs. Small puffs kiss his lips on each exhale.
“There’s no one here.” Pink lips turn red again. “It’s just us.”
“It’s just us?” I scan the room, not seeing Shane anywhere, not seeing the damage he caused to the old plaster.
“I’m going crazy.” My stomach rumbles.
“You’re not crazy. Your mind is just different. Like mine.”
I lean into him, and his arms wrap around me.
“Low blood sugar won’t help if what you’re experiencing are hallucinations. When did you eat last?”
“The bite of pizza, yesterday.”
“That’s not enough, Dollie. Is Shane definitely at work?”
“He left this morning. Nyx is at the house.”
“Okay. Have Annabelle or Val take you home, and have some food.”
“I wanna stay with you?—”
“And I want you to stay with me.”
“Still? Even after last night?”
There’s a twitch of the muscles in Ambrose’s jaw as I stare up at him. “You didn’t do anything but protect yourself.”
“But it hurt you.”
His eyes roll closed, hiding the pretty green, and his hand moves along my arm. “I can handle things hurting me, but not hurting you.”
Does he realize I feel the same? That’s why I let Shane touch me, rather than cry or scream, or even stay where I wanted, in a room that wasn’t mine, because I didn’t want Ambrose fighting and getting arrested again.
I didn’t want to lose him.
Changing the subject, I ask, “You’re paying Nyx to fix the yard, right?”
“Yeah. I got paid two days ago. Are you gonna ask for a new pair of slippers?”
I laugh, a small, weak laugh, but a real one. “No. I want to ask him to change the locks, but I don’t have another baking gig lined up. I guess I could ask Valaria. But I might get luckier if you do it.” My eyes drop to his inner arm and the tattoo he hasn’t bothered hiding today.
He tracks my movements, that little green symbol of luck holding us both prisoner.
“I’m sorry you found out the way you did.” He’s the first to look away as he holds out his hand. “I should have told you, not sprang a random angry text.”
With no hesitation, I take it, feeling over soft scars while his other hand still dances over my shoulder.
“I’ve known for ages.”
“You have?”
I stumble as he reels back on the bed and away from me, any farther and he’d fall straight off the edge. With a tight grip, I grapple with the bed shirt that would just rip open and not save him if he were to fall.
“Annabelle?” he asks, steadying himself.
“What about Annabelle?” I question.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“No, but she’s been holding my secrets, too. She must be ready to burst. I did figure she knew something, but not that you were Lucky.”
“Don’t be mad at her. I should have told you.”
“It’s okay.” I slump back into his hold.
“I’m not mad at either of you. I saw the tattoo the morning after you had your nightmare.
It shocked me for like a minute and then…
I don’t know. I just remembered how much I missed both versions of you.
And it made so much sense that you are the same person. ”
“I kissed you as Lucky. That shouldn’t have happened without you knowing who I was,” he croaks out.
“I’m not mad about that, either, or about last night.” I gaze up at him. “In truth, I didn’t want you to stop. I’d have gone the whole way if we were alone.”
His large Adam’s apple bobs, disrupting the scars on his throat.
I place the softest kiss there, then another on his mouth.
My hands move to his face, preventing him from pulling away again, because if he does, I just won’t cope.
My sleeves tickle his face, and through our kiss, I feel his lips lift.
“I remember these pajamas. You always wore them odd.”
“I still am.”
“Yeah, but you look cute.”
“I do? Like a unicorn. Because I’m truly one of a kind?”
“Exactly.”
I make a little noise as I smile. “I’ll be back tomorrow?”
“Don’t ask me.” His lips drag across mine as he shakes his head. “Promise me.”
“I promise you. I’ll be back tomorrow.”