Page 25

“That’s it,” he says. “Again.”
I nod, following his quiet order. I breathe, and I breathe, and I breathe, until time has ticked by and my heart is no longer racing.
“That’s better,” he says without a trace of judgment. “You want me to get Addy now?”
I shake my head and swallow past the ache in my throat. “No,” I say, and the word sounds so loud in the quiet of my room, my voice scratched and raw. How loud was I screaming?I should be embarrassed about waking him, about the fact that I was loud enough to pull him from his room and into mine, but there’s no space in my mind for embarrassment at the moment, so I let it go. “She’s out with Boss tonight,” I remember, telling him quietly.
He frowns in response, and I wish I could read the thoughts working through his mind right now. Leaning over, he picks myphone up from the nightstand and glances at the time. I watch his features shift and relax the moment he makes whatever decision it is he’s made, the muscle in his jaw ticking once, and twice, before he releases a resigned breath and the tension in his body flees along with it.
“I have to be up soon anyway,” he finally says. “I’m going to stay with you, alright?”
His offer takes me by surprise, words catching in my throat before I finally manage to say, “No, you don’t have to do that. It’s fine. I—”
“I’m not leaving you alone, Declan.” He lifts me in his arms and places me at the center of the bed where my blankets and sheets are a tangled mess. Without another word, he straightens them out and tucks me into them, shifting a pillow beneath my head and hesitating a short moment before moving to sit beside me. The mattress dips with his weight, and I don’t know what to think, but I know I don’t want him to leave.
Still, I find myself saying, “Seriously, you don’t have to—”
“Shh,” he interrupts with a tut of his head. “I’m not fucking leaving. Get over it.”
And despite the weight of everything, despite the fog of blackness still lingering over my thoughts, the hint of a smile tugs at the corners of my lips. It should be a shock, going from a crying mess to almost smiling in a matter of minutes, but somehow, it doesn’t surprise me. Jude has a way of quieting the world around me, and it shouldn’t make sense, because when I look into his eyes, they’re full of a chaos I can’t explain, but his presence is calming.
I want to slip further into the feeling.
He sidles closer, a hand sinking into my hair in a soothing gesture. “Sleep, Little D,” he says, his voice gruff but his touch gentle.
And my eyes drift closed of their own volition.
I tell myself it’s more because of his steely, demanding tone and less because of the way it feels to be tucked inside his body. But I already know that’s a lie, as I’m lulled into a deep sleep, Jude’s arms forming a solid barrier between me and my nightmares.
______
When I wake again, Jude is gone.
I didn’t expect him to still be here, but I’m kind of glad he isn’t. I could use the time to pull myself back together in the light of day before having to explain myself—even if explaining myself is the last thing I want to do.
I kick the thick comforter from my body, and the sheet along with it, a thin sheen of sweat coating my skin. The Masons are firm believers in using air conditioning, especially in the dead of summer, but right now, it feels as if it hasn’t been on in hours. Warmth permeates all the layers of my body, and I reach over to the nightstand for my glass of water.
I swallow it down, wincing at the dusty, day-old aftertaste.
A shower. I need a shower, and then I need to find Addy.
I come to a stand, stretching out the kink in my neck before collecting my things and making my way into the bathroom. Locking the door behind me, I undress and step into the shower. Cold spray rains down on my face, slowly cooling me from the outside in.
As sweat washes away from my body, I find a momentary sense of peace in the coolness penetrating my skin. It’s enough to lift away some of the weight from last night.
But too soon, embarrassment slinks through me, weeding unease through my veins as the memory invades. Jude, holding my face in his hands, urging me to simply breathe because I couldn’t manage to do it on my own. Jude, slipping into mybed and holding me against his chest as I fell asleep, somehow knowing his presence would help push the nightmares away.
What am I supposed to say if he asks what happened?
Surely, I can’t just tell him that I might be utterly, thoroughly, and completely fucked up.
That the accident, and the years that followed, might stay with me forever, no matter how much I try to claim otherwise. Reminding, and reminding, andreminding me,that maybe I was the one responsible, and maybe Iamthe one who should have been taken instead.
I’m not sure how long I stand here under the spray, driving away the intrusive thoughts, driving away the coldness they bleed into my psyche, but by the time I pull myself from the shower, my fingers are ten tiny prunes at the tips, and my lips are a bluish color when I find my reflection in the mirror. They almost match the color of my eyes—a deep blue, like the sea, flecked with a lighter hue as the color reaches my irises.
For the space of a few trembling breaths, I’m almost certain I can see every battle—every war—waged and won and lost, staring directly back at me through my gaze. And maybe that’s what Addy meant when she said she could see how much I’ve fought just to be standing here.
But I’m tired of fighting.