Page 96 of The Story of You

The kisses promised relief and safety. Respite from everything. Every touch, every brush of his lips against my skin telegraphed a need to be rescued. Whatever had happened to Aleksander when Mama got sick … maybe he thought he could get better through me.

I was foolish enough to think I could heal him. All I had to do was love him. Despite all the horrible things he’d done, I loved him anyway. Dearly. Unconditionally. What was one step further?

I was incapable of lying to him.

I needed to participate for real.

I could … I could fall in love with him, couldn’t I?

I turned abruptly and only had enough time to register the shock on his face before I kissed him. He let me for all of four seconds. Then he gripped me by the front of my shirt and slammed my back against the wall.

“To be clear, you’re not in charge. Understood?”

He needed control—always to be in control.

I pant like I’ve been dancing Swan Lake—no, Swan Lake is danced with loving devotion—it’s more as though I’ve narrowly escaped being bitten by a snake. I wipe angrily at a tear and check to make sure Darius hasn’t seen. He doesn’t watch me as closely as Silas does, but he’s still one of my fiercest protectors. He has his own methods.

Once when Silas was away on business and I was angry about it, he caught me trying to sneak out after curfew. I wouldn’t have even bothered to try to sneak out—Silas wasn’t home so the rules didn’t apply, right?—but I’d foolishly told him I’d be staying at a friend’s. Yeah, told him. I didn’t bother to ask. Okay, maybe I was a spoiled little brat sometimes.

“No way in hell, Oliver,” he’d said. “Have fun with your little friends, but then get your dancing, fairy-ass back here by curfew. All I need is Silas breathing down my neck.”

“So, it’s only because of Silas? If you don’t agree with that rule, shouldn’t you say something?”

“Actually, I fucking do agree with that rule. You need some order in your tiny fucked up life.”

“My life isn’t fucked up, Darry.” I coulda killed him for saying that. Instead, I felt evermore justified with my brilliant plan to come home by curfew and then sneak back out. He let me do it, following me all the way back to my friend’s house, which was in the neighborhood at the time, and then dragged me home by the scruff of my shirt collar.

“What the fuck was that? Why not just stop me from leaving the house?”

“Because that might be a skill you need someday and it’s rare that we can simulate training like that in a real way. You did good kid, but you’re still grounded.”

He always left me enough rope to hang myself, but it was so I could learn something valuable on my own. This book is different though. I suspect Darry’s participation in letting me read it comes with some amount of reluctance even if he thinks it’s a good idea.

Okay. Okay, just read before he’s over here yanking the book out of my hands again.

The most frustrating thing of all had to be that he knew every fucking move I tried to make. Sometimes even before I acted. Aleksander was a genius and yet another reason he seemed insurmountable.

“It’s okay, butterfly. I’ll take care of you.” Then he paused. “I’ll take that little display to mean you’ve decided?”

Silas had tried to kiss him. It’s hard to say if Silas wanted to kiss him or not. His words are laden with confusion and pain, but there’s an edge of desire. I think he needs relief from the never-ending days of awful. Aleksander’s offer—as twisted as it is—could provide that for him. At least, that’s what it feels like to him at this moment. It’s a big moment. Life-changing. The one that set him on this course.

Decided? “W-What happens if I say no?” I dug for the bravery to say. Everything was so fucking confusing.

Aleksander’s beautiful green eyes flashed with anger. “I’ll wait to take you when you’re ready. I thought I wouldn’t care, but now that we’re here, forcing myself on you is … unappealing. Would you like me to stop?”

I was powerless at the very thought of his disappointment. It was just sex, right? I could do that. It would make him happy. Life would be better. He would get better. Oliver would have everything. I swallowed hard. “No, I … please. Keep going. I want you to be…” my voice broke, “I want you to be happy.”

I did. So badly. He didn’t deserve that, but young me loved him so much I was willing to shelve all the awful things he’d done and make him happy. I wouldn’t forget, but I wanted the man I knew to come back, and I’d deluded myself into thinking I could be the one to do it.

“Say it. Say you want me.” The back of his hand brushed against my cheek.

“I-I want you.”

“No!” I slap a hand over my mouth.

“Oliver.” That’s Darius. He’s wrapping his knuckles with white hand wraps and meticulous precision.

“I’m fine. I wish I could jump into the book and stop them both.”