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Chapter 25

Sparrow

All this time, I thought Louis was just hard on himself—overly critical of his violent ways—but turns out, there’s more truth in his warnings than I initially thought, and I feel so fucking stupid for not realizing it sooner.

It’s just like Lilith said: I’m too gullible for my own good. Too gullible to function. One might’ve thought my experience with Aaron would’ve made me more careful but apparently not. I was just so bursting with the want for someone to take care of me that I was willing to ignore any red flags and charge right ahead to what I thought was safety.

But that safety doesn’t exist.

It’s like a veil has lifted, and I can now see the cliff I was standing on all along. And the impending darkness below. Should I fall in, I won’t be able to climb out of that darkness. Not on my own.

Eyes stinging with tears, I pass a man on the patio of Moe’s Den. He’s texting on his phone with one hand and holding a cigarette in the other.

“Can I have one?” I ask in a pitiful voice.

The man digs in his pocket, and I receive a cigarette along with his lighter. This time, I manage to light it myself, and acrid smoke fills my mouth and throat. Don’t cough. Don’t you dare fucking cough , I tell myself as I exhale and hand the lighter back with a small “thanks.”

On shaking legs, I make my way down the stairs and start walking. Where? I have no idea, and it doesn’t matter. I trudge along the side of the parking lot, gazing up at the darkened sky. It’s cloud-covered, as usual, and now more than ever, I find myself missing the scorching-hot sun of Arizona.

Maybe I should never have come here. Maybe I should have stayed with Aaron after all. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a future either way.

I suck on the cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply, letting it fill my lungs and poison my body to fit the state of my mind.

Why do I need these men to feel safe? Why do I need all this attention? It’s a shame I was never loved as a child. My adult self seems incapable of thinking I’m okay on my own, and so it will remain. I have no idea how to have a healthy relationship, and Louis apparently doesn’t either, but maybe I don’t want it to be healthy. Maybe I want to be used and stomped on. Maybe I want someone to slap my cheek and spit in my face…Maybe that’s what my twisted mind has equated with love, and what is so wrong with that?

Back at the bar, Louis made me feel like I was wrong for wanting him to take care of me, and maybe I was, but I don’t care about being wrong; I care about feeling good for once, and all I know now is I feel fucking awful.

I sit down on a park bench by a patch of wood at the edge of the parking lot, the glow of the cigarette embers my only company.

At least, that’s until I hear footsteps approaching from my left.

For a split second, hope fills my chest. Is Louis coming to apologize? Is he coming to save me? The hope is so strong that I feel like I smell him. I even feel my cheek pressing into his soft, furry chest as his fingers rub my scalp…

But the silhouette coming toward me is too skinny to be Louis.

A young man in a dark hoodie approaches me with languid steps on the slick asphalt. He pulls the hoodie back to reveal short blond hair, a chin peppered with stubble, and light eyes glinting with malice.

Aaron.

Unlike at the rave, there’s no sense of unreality now. Only a deep weariness and—weirdly—relief.

I should run. I should attack him and shove him to the ground, snarling in my fury, my sadness, my grief.

But I don’t even get up from the bench. All I do is drop the cigarette, grind it to the ground with the sole of my shoe, and look up at him with tears in my eyes.

I wait for the stress response to kick in—for my adrenaline to take over and urge me to get away from this vile man who’s done me so much evil. But it doesn’t come. I’m tired to the very root of my bones, my innards squeezed to capacity, and there’s nothing I can do to relieve myself of my anguish.

But maybe Aaron can.

My gaze drops, and he steps close enough for his toes to touch mine. Then he raises a hand, cups my chin, and tilts my face up to look into his eyes. Tears stream down my cheeks—silent tears, heavy with the weight of my many burdens.

“What are you doing here, little Sparrow?” His low, dark voice slithers into my ears.

I make a choked sound, helpless to my tears, helpless to the beat of my heart, helpless to the last, quivering thread of longing that connects me to this man. I thought I had snapped it for good. I thought I had weaved another kind of thread, but the thread to Aaron proves itself stronger than whatever delusional part of me thought I’d tied myself to Louis.

As if he read my thoughts, Aaron says, “Did you think that big oaf could replace me?”

“You’ve been wa-wa-watching me?” I ask, my beating heart disrupting my ability to speak without my stutter.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching you, little Sparrow. Or should I say, little slut? I saw you let that big oaf eat your face in front of everyone at the rave.”

So he was there. I truly did see him at Mumphrey Hill. I wasn’t going crazy.

“Been watching you other places too,” Aaron says.

I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. I don’t want to know.

“Not that any of that shit matters,” Aaron says, licking his lips. “I know what you really need. You need someone to hurt you—to smack some sense into your worthless mind. You can’t escape it.”

A high-pitched whine burrows its way into my throat, and I can’t say no, can’t say yes. I can’t think. Can’t move. Can’t speak.

Louis told me once that he doesn’t deserve me, but I’m the one who doesn’t deserve him . What I deserve stands right before me. His cold hands are wiping away my tears, his dark smile the one and only relief granted to me.

But then I remember Louis glancing at me as I watched TV in his apartment, and I remember the fond smile on his lips that he tried but failed to hide.

I remember his tender care as he stretched me open to take his cock for the first time.

I remember the food he fed me without expecting anything in return.

I remember his encouragement, his warmth, his weight pressing me down on the mattress and shielding me from the world.

Maybe he’s not as perfect as I first thought. Maybe he’s capable of making mistakes, just like everyone else. Perhaps more than most. He was careless when trying to get Nathan Antler under him, but not a single person in this world is perfect at all times, and I don’t need him to be perfect.

I just need him to be mine. I just need him to claim me as his.

I’m scared of a lot of things, but he’s scared too, even though he doesn’t seem like it. And even though he might try to convince himself otherwise, he cares for me, the way Aaron never did.

My tears stop falling, and my hands clench into fists, my body shaking from head to toe.

“I don’t need you,” I grit out. “It’s you who needs me.”

Aaron’s hand loosens its hold for a moment, but then it tightens so hard and so suddenly that I gasp. He rips me to my feet, his freakishly light eyes blazing with fury.

“What did you just say?”

“I said,” I gasp, airflow halfway cut off by his hand, “I don’t need you. You’re the one who needs me, and that’s the way it’s always been.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Aaron snarls. “You’re a weak, cowardly boy who no one has ever loved but me.”

“Don’t make me laugh.” By some miracle, my voice holds—not a hint of fear, stutter, or hesitation. “You loved the control you had over me. Nothing more.”

His smile doesn’t budge, but a muscle in his jaw twitches. “You’re coming with me.”

“No. I’m not.”

I wish I had the gun Louis taught me how to shoot. I wish I had the strength and courage to take Aaron on with nothing but my fists. But despite everything, he still scares the shit out of me. Despite everything, I can’t do this on my own. I need someone; I need Louis.

But Louis is probably busy drowning himself in whiskey right now, and with no one to save me, the dark abyss at the end of the cliff is tilting toward me head-on. I can try to struggle, I can try to protest, but words are useless in the face of that darkness. In the face of my fear.

Aaron’s hands are like sharp claws when he grabs me, and his mouth seems full of teeth, gleaming and gaping as he swallows me down.