77. Dollie—present day #2
“Dollancie, why don’t you come with me?” Nyx’s face appears over Shane’s shoulder. “I can take you home, or to the hospital, or to meet Annabelle. Wherever you want to go.”
“I can take her home myself. She just needs some space.” Shane buckles me up, sitting in the doorway of the car.
Nyx doesn’t move, rain pouring into his eyes, not minimizing the concern I see on his face.
The pretty pink paint on his T-shirt makes me wonder if my house is finished and if I’ll ever get to see it.
“I’m asking her. I wanna hear it from her.”
“Fine.” Shane huffs. His hand takes mine, moving back up to that painful part of my wrist. A finger pushes the bruise like it’s some kind of magic button that will get me to comply. “Tell Nyx you’re okay, Lancie.”
While this close, the cruelty in Shane’s eyes, in his touch, makes me nod.
“I can take you home, Dollancie,” Nyx offers.
“I’m fine,” I croak, not wanting to drag Nyx into this.
“I have to go there anyway. The guys are still there doing some yard work,” he insists. “I just ran out to get a late lunch.”
“She’s fine, man.” Shane stands, letting go of my wrist and using those same fingertips on Nyx’s chest, guiding him back. “It’s just been a rough fucking day. We’ll see you back at the house.”
“I’m fine, Nyx. Really.” I’m not fine. I’m trembling in my seat. I’m trying to rock myself into a calmer state. I’m trying to use my own hair for sensory support—but it doesn’t feel like Ambrose’s.
I force out a stuttered mess of words, “I’ll meet you at the house.”
Nyx’s shoulders drop in defeat, and he looks away for a moment. “Okay,” he agrees, hanging his head. “I’ll see you back at the house in ten minutes.”
The fact that he gave us a time means so much to me. If I’m not back in that time, which is plenty of time, he’ll know something is up.
The moment Nyx steps away, all the stress, fear, and anxiety I’ve felt since leaving the hospital multiply. That suffocating feeling in my chest returns without the help of Shane’s hands, and I feel like I’ve made the biggest mistake sending Nyx away.
Unclipping my belt, I sneak my right leg outside the car. Dirt crunches below my slipper, and I know it’ll be hard to run in these awful things.
Hearing the low crunch of gravel, Shane slams the door to close it, the heavy weight barreling into my shin.
I squeak, but kick at the door with my other leg, the hideous slipper falling off.
Another slam creates another bruise across my shin, and another retaliating kick from me.
“Put your fucking leg in, you little cunt,” he whisper shouts, forcing his weight against the door.
Still, I fight.
With forceful fingers on the new patches of purple, Shane manages to get my leg inside.
My eyes make it to the side mirror, monitoring the slow movements of Nyx’s van as he starts its engine and rolls forward, waiting for a safe time to pull out.
“Put your fucking belt on!” Shane shouts, actually shouts this time, steaming the window.
He storms around the car, and I wait for him to open his door, then I do the same with mine. The clicking of his door minimizes the sound of mine.
Launching myself from the car, I run. A slam comes from behind me. I know it’s his door as my feet tread stones.
If he catches me, he might just kill me. Throw me into the busy road and tell the world I ran into the traffic.
“Nyx, wait! Please wait!” I scream through the rain as loud as my throat will allow.
My arms fly out, just before Nyx leaves the area. Brake lights appear, hazards, too, as he careens back to the side of the road.
I rush forward, and Shane slides in the gravel, trying to reach me, as Nyx jumps from the van.
“Dollancie, are you okay?”
“Please, take me home.”
“Dollancie, get in this fucking car.” Shane pushes himself up from the ground, dusting stones from his palms. He steps toward us, shaking with anger again. “If you don’t, then I’m done with your shit for good.”
“That’s fine. I want this to be over.” I yell, a big blow of wind taking it to him. “I don’t want to see you again!”
Nyx’s hands settle on my biceps, and I don’t realize until a second later that it’s to stop me from shaking.
“No, of course you don’t. You don’t want any interruptions while you fuck that thing that lives across the hall, do you!
” Shane kicks gravel, showing exactly who he is.
A spoiled brat that doesn’t like being told no.
“You just want to live in your little happy bubble, with your scumbag brother, and?—”
“Yes! That is exactly what I want!” I scream, hurting my throat, my lungs, and everything in between. I rub at the pain and calm my tone. “I don’t want you. I want him.”
Turning to the van, I keep my gaze low, not wanting any judgment from Nyx.
He stays silent, a soft hand on my back, taking me away from Shane as he screeches again.
“Yeah, well, I hope you don’t fucking get that. I hope he fucking dies!”
My legs lock, and I glance down to the ground where my heart should be, broken in a million pieces. All I see is one hideous slipper and another dirty sock.
Slow movements lift my foot, and I step out of the slipper, leaving it behind.
I leave Shane behind, too, completely done with him.