Page 53

Nell could not sleep. She could not eat. She could not drink.

She nibbled furiously on her thumb nail, and when that was gone, she moved to the next.

Barrett slept on the ground next to the bed without talking about it. He left for work at the shop without talking about it or eating the eggs she made him.

He didn’t want to talk about it. But Nell was dying to talk about it.

She wanted to apologize, tell him how much she loved him, and beg him not to leave her.

She was terrified. She needed him. She needed him so badly that her mouth was growing dry, her hands shaky.

She needed him so badly that she didn’t get a bag from Tina this time. She’d already betrayed his trust and lied to him enough. She would stop right now and start fresh.

She would do it for him.

But none of this was helping. Not being able to talk to him, or have him tell her he loves her or touch her—it was starting to strip her bare.

It just made her want it more.

She found herself reaching into her pocket, only to find it empty each time.

She tried everything to distract herself.

She drank multiple cups of water. She tried to play Sandra, but she couldn’t keep her hands from shaking long enough to make it sound any good.

She watched TV. Then cleaned the kitchen. Then made the bed. Then picked up the floor. Then stared at the dresser.

She stared at the dresser for a long time, nibbling on her pinkie.

I shouldn’t . She thought it over and over again.

But just one more time. It will be fine . She thought once, and that was all it took.

She pulled the drawer open and dug through the socks like she’d done a million times since discovering where he kept his merchandise.

She’d been careful to only use it when absolutely necessary.

Usually, once she ran out of what she got from Tina.

It was just small amounts here and there when Barrett was at work or busy recording with the others and she needed a pick-me-up.

So, a tiny bit wouldn’t hurt. It never had before.

But it wasn’t there.

Nothing was.

No lunch tin, no bags, or pills or powder or joints. Nothing.

Nell’s chest felt like it was going to implode, and her breathing grew shallow.

She sat on the ground with her back to the dresser and sobbed into her hands.

* * *

Barrett didn’t think she could handle it. That’s why he’d done it, wasn’t it?

Somehow, he’d found out about her taking from his stash, and he’d hidden it because he thought she couldn’t handle it.

But she could. She could handle it. And she would prove it to him.

She tucked her knees into her chest, sitting on Barrett’s porch, and watched every car pass. At some point, soft flakes had started falling and melting on her arms, but the road wasn’t totally covered yet, which was good.

Her breathing had become a little heavier every minute Barrett still wasn’t home, but that defeated the purpose of this whole thing. So she swallowed it down and ignored the sinking in her stomach.

It was already dark when Barrett’s van finally pulled up. Nell smiled, standing, her hands wringing together.

Barrett stepped out of the van, his face still as he walked toward her with his hands stuffed into his pockets.

Nell huffed a visible breath of air at the sight of him. She almost felt like she could breathe again when he was there.

She could do this.

He paused, his eyes roving over her. An eyebrow rose. “Where’s your coat?” he asked.

Nell shook her head, brushing off his question. “Can we go for a drive?”

Barrett was silent for a while, and for a moment, Nell was worried he would say no. If he said no, she wouldn’t be able to prove herself.

She wrung her hands together nervously.

Finally, he gave a brief nod. “Okay.”

He turned back to the van, heading toward the driver’s side.

“Wait.” Nell stepped forward, grinning as big as she could. She had to show she was okay. “Can I drive?”

Barrett froze.

He looked at her, his eyes wide and disbelieving.

He didn’t think she could do it. But she had to. She had to prove it to him.

“I don’t—”

“Just for a little bit. It’s been a while since I’ve wanted to. Thought I might as well before the moment passes.”

She could see the gears spinning in his head, his gaze flicking back and forth between hers as if he were trying to read her mind.

Finally, his shoulders drooped like he was giving in. He stepped up to her, shrugging his jacket off and flipping it around her shoulders so she was covered.

She still shook despite being surrounded by the lingering warmth in his jacket.

“Just for a little bit,” he agreed in defeat. She swore she could see a near smile hinted on his lips.

She practically ran to the van.

Considering how many times she’d ridden in the passenger side of this van, transitioning to the driver’s side would be easy. Nine months since she’d driven, but gripping the wheel was natural, if not a little uncomfortable.

Just like riding a bike. Easy peasy.

Nell pulled onto the road slowly, her hold relaxed. They stayed quiet, but Nell kept glancing back and forth between the road and Barrett.

He didn’t look back.

She could only see half of his face as he gazed intently on the road in front of them. He was focused, alert.

It reminded her of her mom when she taught her to drive. The anxiety at every bump and turn worried her she would mess up.

Nell’s stomach dropped.

He really didn’t think she could do it.

The snow was falling faster now, and her knuckles tightened on the wheel.

It was soft enough that it melted as it hit the windshield, leaving drops on the glass before being swiped away by the wipers.

It almost looked like rain.

She shook her head, wincing at the ringing in her ears. The smell of smoke rose up in her nose, and she huffed to get it out.

No. No. This couldn’t happen.

If she reacted to any of this, Barrett wouldn’t trust her. But he had to. She had to be okay, or he would never smile at her again. He would take it away from her.

She heard his voice somewhere in her mind, fading behind other thoughts and memories.

She was better now. She could handle this, she was fine without her parents, and she didn’t have a problem. No, she was fine. If she wasn’t, he would leave. So, she had to be fine.

Barrett said something, and she nodded, murmuring, “Uh huh,” to prove she was okay.

She was okay. She could handle this. She was ready for this, and he could trust her.

“Nell!”

His voice cut through her affirmations, and she looked to him. His eyes were frantic, and he held onto the side of the door like he was bracing himself. “Slow down. Stop the car!”

Nell blinked, then looked back at the speedometer, which read nearly double the speed limit on this road.

Her heart stilled, and she slammed on the brakes.

It had to be luck or divine intervention that they came to a standstill in the middle of the road.

The last time had been different.

Nell stared at her hands, her entire body trembling. The snow continued to fall softly on the windshield, building up and oblivious to the terror thriving in the silence of the van’s interior.

Then she broke.

Her head fell onto the steering wheel, and she cried all the tears she thought had run out. Her sobs filled the van, ruining everything.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Barrett’s voice was merely a whisper, yet she could hear the disappointment behind it.

No. No. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“You could have—”

He stopped, but he didn’t need to finish. She knew exactly what he was going to say.

“You could have killed us. Just like you killed them.”

Nell turned to him. His eyes were already guilty with the words he hadn’t said.

She grabbed his hands, pulling them to her and smiling through the hiccupping sobs. “Please, Scott. I promise I can handle it. Just a little bit, please. It helps. I feel fine with it; this wouldn’t have happened like this. I swear I’m okay. I can handle it, I promise.” She grinned.

Barrett looked at her, and she wished she could understand what that look on his face was. She didn’t recognize it.

“This can be the last time. Just for today, okay? I’ll feel so much better after.” Her cheeks started hurting, and the tears would not stop.

Barrett grabbed her, pulling her into his body as she murmured the same assurances over and over again into his shoulder. He was shaking too, she realized.

It was all a blur after that. Somehow, he’d moved her to the passenger side and she’d fallen asleep. When she woke, dazed and delirious, it was in his arms as he carried her into the house and laid her in his bed.

She didn’t have the energy to keep her eyes open as he removed his coat and tucked her under the covers. She was glad she was awake at the end, though, to the feel of him brushing her hair softly, his lips brushing her forehead and cheeks.

His words were almost like a dream as she drifted off. “I’m so sorry.”

She fell asleep before she could say them back.