Chapter 10
Chapter
Ten
WINDER
Ishould’ve known she wouldn’t take no for an answer. And I really should’ve known, with Blaire, nothing was what met the eye.
She processed what I said silently, her jaw working like she was trying to chew the words.
“I don’t know you.” She shook her head, her damp red hair flying everywhere. I wanted to wrap my hand up in it, tug her head back until she was forced to look up at me with those pretty green eyes.
“You don’t remember me,” I corrected.
There were a lot of things I should’ve done when it came to Blaire.
I should’ve seen her in that coffee shop on the first day and turned around, found somewhere else to sell my shit.
I should’ve looked the other way when she caught my eye.
I should’ve slammed the door in her face when she showed up yesterday morning.
Should’ve. Could’ve. Would’ve. Useless words that did nothing for me now, besides fill me with regret.
Because I was now in the very situation I had tried so hard not to be in.
Alone.
With Blaire Fucking Barlowe.
Her eyes shifted, a fury long buried seeping out beneath her pores. “The first time I saw you was in the coffee shop that morning. I think I would remember someone like you.” She looked me up and down with the confidence of someone twice her size.
“I’ve seen you around the party scene. You’re a regular.
I was surprised to see you in the café because that is definitely not what I expected you to look like in the daylight.
” My mind flashed me a slideshow of Blaire, in tiny dresses, ripped jeans and cropped tops, flashes of pale skin that tortured me while I lay in bed.
No.
I needed to shut down that thinking right now. Shut it down. Turn it off. Bury it with the rest.
It wasn’t my place. And she would never be mine.
Looking at the way she glared at me now made the transition easier. If she had a shovel, I would’ve already been six feet under. Fine by me. I’d learned to be comfortable in a grave years ago.
“I don’t party,” she snarled.
I coughed out a laugh. This side of her was fun. “Okay, either you or your identical twin sister have been making the rounds at the parties.”
A crease furrowed between her brows, and I found myself wanting to wipe it away. “I don’t have a twin sister.”
“Then it must be you. Listen, sweetheart, I wouldn’t miss that hair anywhere.”
“But I…” Blaire shifted her weight from side to side, trying to find stability when I’d just pulled the ground out from underneath her. “I don’t remember any of it.”
“I’m not surprised. You’ve been pretty messed up when I’ve seen you.” I shrugged, trying to downplay the situation for her benefit.
“Wouldn’t I remember leaving my apartment, though? I would know if I was out partying all night. All I do is go to work and come home and go to bed. There’s no partying. Nothing. I’d remember that. I know I would.” She glared at me, daring me to contradict her.
I sighed. “I know this has to be confusing for you. I promise, I have no reason to lie to you.” Except to protect you. “Depending on what you’re taking at night, no, you wouldn’t remember. Or if you’re already prone to black outs, well…”
Blaire’s expression froze, and I realized I hit home.
She twisted her hands, the oversized sleeve of my sweatshirt falling down to cover her hands completely.
There was something endearing about seeing her in my too-big clothes, something that made me want to hide her away from this world she had found herself in.
She didn’t belong here. She never had.
She also wasn’t great at listening.
“Shouldn’t I remember something, though?” Her voice was quiet, and it felt like it was all my fault, even though I was simply the messenger.
“It’s not unusual, to tell you the truth. Right kind of high will mess you up pretty good. Mix that in with a lack of sleep, and it’s easy enough to convince yourself it’s not real.”
She sat back on the bed, lost. I knew the feeling. I knew it too well. The brokenness.
The lucky ones broke cleanly in half. A piece for you, and a piece for them.
People like Blaire and myself, though, we broke the messy way. I remembered it like yesterday, the way the cracks began in my heart, splintering their way through my chest. Only difference between myself and the beautifully lost woman on my bed was that I’d had years to process my fragmented soul.
Blaire was at the beginning, and she had a long way to go. I knew I shouldn’t get close to her. It would only end in tragedy for both of us. But I couldn’t just leave her like this, simmering in her sadness. I owed her that much.
“Look.” I kept my voice as calm as I could, the way one would talk to a stray cat. “I know this is a lot to process.”
“A lot to process. A lot to process?” She laughed, her voice breaking.
When she looked up at me, her eyes were filled with a world I lived in for too long.
“A lot to process is breaking your leg the day before your vacation. A lot to process is being told you failed your final exam. You just told me I’ve basically been living a different life at night, a different life I have no memory of.
That’s a little bit more than a lot to process, Winder. ”
“I know. I know.” I held my hands up. I didn’t want her to run. I needed her to stay here, where I could keep a close eye on her, until I untangled this mess she had knotted both of us in.
“And what about the dreams?” Blaire sounded so small, so unlike the way she had just demanded answers from me.
I froze. “What about them?”
“Are they just dreams? Or is that something I’m forgetting about too?” Her green eyes begged me for something she could cling to.
If she was looking for stability, she came to the wrong place. “I don’t know, Blaire,” I answered as honestly as I could.
She glanced away, but not before I saw the crestfallen look that crossed her face.
Blaire had been through a lot tonight. More than a person should go through in a lifetime, let alone a single evening. The weight of it was beginning to show across her skin.
She fell back onto the bed, looking up at my ceiling like it held all the answers. “What am I going to do?”
Such a simple question. I wished it had just as simple of an answer. “First, you’re going to get off those nasty sheets so I can change them. Then, you’re going to get a good night’s sleep. We can regroup in the morning once you aren’t so tired, and I’ve had time to think.”
“Do I have to stay here?” Blaire mumbled, throwing an arm over her eyes.
I laughed, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Leave if you want. I’m not going to stop you. I’m just saying it might be safer for you to stay here.”
A lie. I wasn’t going to let her leave. But it would be better for both of us if she believed she had some say in the matter. Wasn’t that what most kidnappers did?
She peeked up at me from underneath her arm. “I don’t want to stay here. But I really don’t want to go home. Not tonight at least.”
The knot unfurled. “It’s settled then. You can sleep in my bed, and I’ll take the couch.”
I hated sleeping on the couch. I took the only bedroom on the main floor because it was the only one with its own bathroom.
The other bedrooms upstairs had to share.
But being just off the living room meant there was always someone who wanted something from me, or people yapping in my fucking ear.
It was worse when I slept on the couch. But I was already breaking every goddamn rule in my book by even letting Blaire in my house, so sleeping in the same bed with her was out of the question.
I couldn’t stand looking at her on those disgusting sheets for a second longer. I tugged on the bottom of the bed, pulling them off the mattress. Blaire sat up, sliding off the bed into a pool on the floor.
She picked at her cuticles as I wrenched the sheets off the bed. I’d throw them out tomorrow. Never really liked them anyway.
I reached into my small closet to grab my crumpled spare set, and Blaire turned her attention to her other hand.
She was nervous. It was kind of cute watching her avoid looking at me.
I wasn’t used to girls being shy around me. The women who normally hung around here all wanted something from me. They’d offer whatever they had for whatever they wanted. Some of them wanted to get high. Some of them wanted my body.
Some of them wanted to forget.
Some of them wanted to remember.
I understood most of those feelings, and for the most part, I was down for the ride.
Blaire, though…she sat with her feelings tattooed across her skin and still denied their existence. I made her nervous. The way she fidgeted around me told me everything I needed to know.
I snapped the last corner into place. “Alright. You’re good to go. I can’t promise it’s the most comfortable place to sleep, but the door locks, and I’ll be right outside.”
She curled her knees up into her chest. “Thanks. I appreciate it. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.”
I nodded. “I know. Do you need anything else?”
“Winder?” She rested her head on her knees, her hair all tossed to one side. At that moment, I wasn’t sure if I had ever seen someone so effortlessly beautiful. She cut me from the inside out, leaving me to bleed at her feet, and had no idea.
Maybe it would’ve been easier if she did.
“Yeah?”
“Why is this happening to me?” Her eyes brimmed with tears she refused to spill.
I ran my thumb along my lip. “I wish I knew.”
Blaire nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Fuck, look at me. I’m sorry. You don’t need to see this. I just need to get some sleep and I’ll be fine.”
I could have called her out on her bullshit. I could have climbed into bed with her, held her body against mine until she stopped trembling, until she had no tears left to cry. I could have stroked her hair, whispering all the words I wanted to reassure her with.
I could have. But I didn’t.
I tapped the doorknob. “Lock this after I leave.”
“Night, Winder.” She got to her feet, following me to the door.
“Night, Blaire.” I closed the door behind me, waiting until I heard the click of the lock before I collapsed to the floor.
A party raged in the living room in front of me, people smoking and drinking and doing God knew what to make them feel alive. And I had just experienced a high like never before simply from being in the same room as her.
Blaire Fucking Barlowe.
I knocked my head back against the door, trying to convince myself that my hands weren’t trembling, and my heart wasn’t pounding a rhythm I could’ve marched to.
What a fucking mess I had wound up in. If I hadn’t quit years ago, I would’ve been looking for something to stop my racing mind right then.
Could’ve. Should’ve. Would’ve. It was a game I played with myself.
So, I told her what she needed to know. I told her just enough to get her off my case, but not enough to get her killed—yet.
Honesty was such a fine line, and the morals of lying were at opposite ends. Don’t keep secrets. But don’t tell people things that will put them in danger either.
Unfortunately, the full truth, the one stuck to the tip of my tongue, was both. A secret from Blaire, because she obviously didn’t remember me, and a truth that would put her in even more danger than she was already in.
I did know Blaire from parties. She had popped up on the scene recently, and I would’ve recognized her anywhere. Because when I told her we’d known each other a long time, that was the truth.
The dangerous part of the truth was something that hit closer to home, because when I knew Blaire, she was off-limits.
After all, you weren’t supposed to lust after your brother’s girlfriend.