50. Dre
Chapter fifty
Dre
I should be surprised that I’m back here again. But, nothing could keep me away from this girl. Chess and I stand concealed beneath the shroud of night. Seriously, there are no streetlights out here at all. They seem so concerned with the security of their fortress, but you can't see shit out here.
My gaze is locked on the second-floor window where Snowflake's silhouette should be. It's not.
She was at school today, but not really. She’s still walking around, a shell of her former self. She won’t look at us. Won’t talk to us. Won’t smile in a way that reaches her eyes and I can’t fucking take it anymore.
"Man, this is messed up," Chess mutters beside me, shifting his weight from foot to foot, unease etched into his dark features. "We've been out here for hours. Why don't we just go in and check on her?"
"Shut it, Chess," I snap, my voice barely a growl. My fingers fidget with the hem of my jacket, restlessness clawing at my insides. The paranoia won't let go; it digs its claws deeper with every passing second. Addy's hiding something—something big—I can feel it in my bones.
If I can’t drag it from her lips, then I’ll just have to suss it out myself. It’s not like I’d be spending this time sleeping anyway. I haven’t slept a fucking wink since she shut down on us. Well, I had actually slept beside her last night. That says a whole lot about the hold this girl has on me.
"Look at her window, Dre. It's shut tight again." Chess points toward the opaque glass pane lined with a thick curtain that separates us from Addy's world—a barrier she's been meticulous about lately. Now that she knows we’re watching, she’s more careful about what we can see.
"Doesn't matter," I say, dismissing his observation with a shake of my head. Every evening, I'm tempted to climb up to her room, just to ensure she's safe, to quell the gnawing concern. But no, sneaking glances from the shadows won't unravel the tangled web I know she's trapped in.
"Then what? We gonna stand here like a couple of creeps all night?" There's a hint of challenge in Chess's tone, but I know it's laced with worry—not for our reputations, but for her.
"Something's not right." The words slip from my lips, a mantra that's become too familiar. "Why's her door got a lock on the outside, huh? And why didn't she eat properly until Saint started to feed her?"
Chess falls silent, and I know he's pieced it together just as easily as I have. I know he knows something isn’t right. What I don’t know is why he’s not working harder to uproot those secrets.
"Alright, so what's the play?" Chess finally asks, his hazel eyes meeting mine.
"We watch. We wait." My voice is resolute even if my plan is anything but. "We need answers, Chess. And we're going to get them."
The dim glow from Addy's window fractures as a shadow passes behind the curtain. Then, the curtains part and a face—William's face—peeks out. A jolt of adrenaline ignites my veins like gasoline to flame. I'm moving before I realize, my feet tearing across the dew-kissed lawn with the reckless abandon of a storm.
"Draven, wait!" Chess's voice is a distant whisper drowned out by the thundering of my own heart.
I can't—I won't stop. The sight of him there, in her room, it's like a red flag to a bull, and I am all horns and hooves, barreling toward the danger that I've sworn to shield her from.
"Snowflake!" My voice is raw as I burst through her window, the curtains giving way under the force of my shoulder.
She scrambles back against her bed, green eyes wide with terror, her blonde hair a wild halo around her head in the moonlight streaming through the window.
"What the hell was he doing here?" The words are a snarl, ripping from the depths of my chest, each syllable laced with an edge of insanity.
"Dre, please." Her voice is a thin thread of fear, barely audible over the hammering pulse in my ears.
"Tell me!" I demand, closing the distance between us in two long strides. The desperation in my voice scares even me—it's the sound of someone teetering on the brink.
"Nothing—he was just—"
"Nothing? At this hour?" I spit back, my mind racing with unspeakable thoughts. Every muscle in my body coils tight, ready to strike out at the unseen monsters I imagine lurking in every corner of her life.
"Please," she pleads, her eyes shimmering pools reflecting back my own distorted reflection.
"Please?" I echo, the words hollow. "Absolutely fucking not. I have been patient, Snowflake. But you are going to tell me with the fuck is going on here."
"Dre," she whispers, and something about the way she says my name, vulnerable and broken, almost breaks me.
But I'm made of harder stuff than that. I have to be—for her.
The window groans under Chess's weight as he eases himself into the dimly lit room, his silhouette a dark smudge against the faint moonlight. Snowflake's gaze flickers to him, and in that brief moment of distraction, I reach out, my fingers clamping onto her chin with a firmness that brooks no argument.
"Look at me, Snowflake," I command, forcing her attention back. The ice in my veins reflects in my eyes, a storm brewing behind the frost. "Don't look away from me."
"Dre, you're hurting me," she whispers, her voice quivering like the last leaf clinging to a winter branch.
"Am I?" My grip slackens, but my stare remains unyielding, locked on the fear and confusion warring in her green depths. "I just need answers, Snowflake. Real answers."
She swallows hard, and the pulse at her throat flutters like a caged bird. "I've told you everything. There's nothing more to say."
"Nothing?" My voice climbs, sharp and jagged as broken glass. "Your door locks from the outside, Snowflake. That's not 'nothing.' How often does he come here? What does he do?" Each question is a hammer blow, seeking to shatter the walls she's built around herself.
"Dre, stop!" Her plea falls on deaf ears. My mind is a hurricane of dark thoughts, each one crashing into the next, demanding escape.
"Does he touch you?" The words rip from my throat, a savage growl that fills the room with its intensity. The air between us crackles, charged with my fraying composure.
"Please...you have to understand." She’s looking anywhere but at me now, her gaze darting around the room as if the answers might be written on the walls.
"Understand what? That you're being hurt and I can't do anything about it?" I release her face, pacing the small space like a predator denied its prey. "Why won't you let me help you?"
"Because there's nothing you can do!" She's shouting now, desperation giving her strength. "There's nothing anyone can do!"
"Like hell there isn't." My fists clench at my sides, knuckles white with the effort to keep from smashing something, anything, to drive away this impotence that claws at my insides.
"Dre," Chess says quietly, caution laced in his tone. He knows better than to step between us when I'm like this, but he's always been braver than most.
"Back off, Chess," I warn without looking at him. My focus is on Snowflake, on the secrets she's keeping and the pain they're causing. "This is between me and her."
"Actually," she cuts in, her voice steadier now, "it's between me and them. And you can't fight my battles for me."
"Watch me," I retort, a defiant promise. But deep down, the seed of doubt plants itself—am I fighting for her, or am I fighting for the control I so desperately crave?
"Wh-why do you even care?" Snowflake's voice cracks, and I can almost taste the fear mingling with defiance in her tone. Her eyes flicker away from mine, betraying her attempt to hide something deeper.
"Why? You want to know why?" I shoot back, my own voice a low growl as I catch the evasion dancing behind her pupils.
She flinches, but I press on, my resolve hardening like ice under a frigid wind. "I'll camp right here on this floor," I vow, the words pouring out of me, fierce and unyielding. "Every damn night, if that's what it takes to keep you safe."
Her breath hitches, and she swallows hard, clearly unnerved by the intensity of my declaration. The room is thick with unsaid truths and my own spiraling thoughts.
"Safe? From what, Dre?" Her challenge is weak, but it's there, pushing against the force of my will.
"From anyone who thinks they can hurt you," I insist, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "From him."
For a heartbeat, we're suspended in the tension of our shared space, her vulnerability and my desperation tangibly intertwined.
"Why?" she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching mine for an answer she isn't sure she wants. "Why do you care?"
The question triggers something primal within me. Suddenly, I'm moving, until I'm close enough to feel her uneven breaths. My hands reach up, fingers brushing against her cheeks, leaving no space between us.
"Because I laid claim, Snowflake. You're mine ." The words are a raw, possessive growl that I feel in every fiber of my being.
"I'm no one's," she counters, her voice laced with a quiet strength that belies her fragile appearance.
Her resistance stokes the fire in my chest, burning through whatever restraint I had left. The storm inside me rages, fueled by her defiance and the undeniable truth that I cannot let her go, not now, not ever.
"Wrong," I say, the word slicing through the charged air between us. "You're mine, and I'll fight the whole damn world to prove it."
Chess watches silently. He doesn't intervene, knowing full well that when it comes to Snowflake, there's no calming the tempest that she stirs within me.
The heat of her defiance still simmers in the air when my hand finds its way to her throat, not squeezing, just there, a silent assertion of the claim I've staked. Her pulse flutters under my fingers, a trapped bird's heart, and her eyes—they light up with an inferno that could scorch me to ashes. She likes this. I fucking know she does. She can't hide that from me.
"I'm not going to touch you," I murmur, watching her closely. "Not tonight. But, I'm not leaving either." My voice is low, yet it fills the room, heavy with the promise of proximity without contact. "Go to bed, Snowflake. We're staying right here."
She shakes her head ever so slightly, the movement brushing her skin against my hand. "He won't come back. Not tonight," she whispers, her gaze locked onto mine, trying to convince me, to chase away the shadows that linger.
That assurance, meant to pacify, only tightens the coil of anger in my gut. "Are you fucking serious?" I snap, my voice rising despite my attempt to keep it even. My hand falls away from her throat as if burned by the fire within her.
I step back, putting distance between us, and start pacing. The confines of the room feel more constricting than ever, walls closing in, trapping me with my own spiraling thoughts. Chess is there, his presence a steady hum in the background, and I hear him move towards her as I make another pass across the carpet.
"Hey, Addy," he says gently, and I don't need to look to know he's offering her the comfort I'm too riled up to give. There's a soft rustle, the sound of fabric and flesh meeting in a tender embrace, and then silence as he crawls in beside her.
"Shh, it's okay," Chess murmurs, and I can picture him holding her, a lifeline in the chaos I've stirred up. I want to join them, to fold myself into that quiet moment, but the beast in me paces on, relentless, refusing to be tamed.
As I march back and forth like a soldier on guard, the sounds of Chess's soothing whispers and the shift of sheets are a stark contrast to the storm raging inside me. He's got this way about him, Chess does, a calm that can soothe wild beasts. And tonight, he's all Snowflake's got, because I'm too far gone in my own head, circling the same dark thoughts that won't let me rest.
"Get some sleep," Chess says softly, and I know he's talking to both of us. But while she might find solace in his arms, sleep is a battlefield I'm not ready to step onto yet. Not until I've conquered the demons that are tearing at my insides, howling for a truth I'm scared to face.
So I pace, and I watch, and I wait—because nothing else matters but keeping her safe, even from the monsters lurking within me.
The tension finally breaks when Snowflake's breathing settles into the deep, even rhythm of sleep. I stop pacing and hover at the edge of the bed, watching her chest rise and fall beneath the moonlight that sneaks through the cracks in the curtains.
"Chess," I whisper, my voice rough like gravel after hours of turmoil. He stirs, eyes meeting mine in an unspoken dialogue we've perfected over time.
I tilt my head towards the window, careful not to disturb the peace we've managed to cobble together in the wreckage of the night.
"Give me a sec," he replies, as he carefully untangles himself from Snowflake and slips out of the bed, moving with the grace of someone who knows how to navigate the dark without making a sound. We retreat to the cool night air of the open window.
"Saint needs to know," Chess says, breaking the silence that wraps around us like a thick fog.
I nod, my jaw tight. "Yeah. This—whatever this is—he needs to know."
"Saint won't like it," Chess points out, his voice low but firm. "He hates messes, and this is one hell of a tangle."
"Doesn't matter if he likes it," I grind out, frustration simmering under my skin. "We need to speed up our plan."
"True," Chess concedes with a sigh. "But you know how he is. If we bring him in, he'll want control. Are you ready for that?"
"Doesn't matter what I'm ready for." My fists clench at my sides as I think of Snowflake, vulnerable and trapped in this house, her secrets cutting deeper than any knife ever could. "It's about keeping her safe. Keeping her away from whatever sick games they're playing with her. If that means...if that means marrying him then I'll have to be okay with that."
"Alright, mano . We'll do it your way. But we're going to need a plan, and we're going to need to be careful. One wrong move and we could make things worse for her."
"Then we won't make a wrong move," I say with a confidence I don't feel. "We'll update Saint, and we'll figure this out. Together."
"Okay. Together," Chess promises, his gaze steady in the darkness. "Just remember, Dre, we're walking on a razor's edge with this one."
"Let's just hope we don't bleed out before it's all said and done," I mutter, turning back to the room, to the bed where Snowflake lies sleeping, oblivious to the knights and knaves ready to wage war in her name.