Page 118 of Wicked Little Darling

Was he embarrassed about giving me a compliment? Why was he so fucking adorable?

I leaned in and touched my nose to his, waiting for him to raise his gaze to mine. “Really good at what?”

His eyes searched mine, and he didn’t move at all. “Writing music. Playing. All of it. Why did you, um—never mind, sorry,” he said quickly, pulling back and turning away.

I leaned back in my chair. “Why did I what?”

“Nothing.”

“No, you were gonna ask me something.” I set my violin and bow down, then gently grabbed his chin and turned his face toward mine. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and this was a moment I wished I could just crack open his mind and peek inside. “Why did I what? You know you can ask me anything, right? I like it when you ask me things. Iwantyou to ask me things.”

He slid his eyes to mine. “Why did you stop? What happened…back then?”

Oh.

He wanted to know aboutthatday.

I let go of his chin and stood up, stretching my arms up and groaning.

Fuck.

Okay. I could do this.

“Dakota, you don’t have to?—”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t mind telling you, it’s just…kind of long.”

“You don’t have to talk about it.”

“Nah, you asked and I want to tell you. God knows what that curiosity will turn into if it’s not satisfied.”

He punched my thigh and said, “Shut up.”

I grabbed his fist and kissed the back of his hand. “As you wish.”

He rolled his eyes, but his cheeks stained pink. I sat back with a grin on my face, then looked up at the ceiling, wondering where to start.

“What happened…” I scratched my jaw and shrugged. “I just didn’t want to play anymore. Not for any of those people. I didn’t care about any of it, and what had started as a hobby I really loved, something that soothed me, became a chore that I really hated. Albert was the one who constantly pushed me past my comfort zone. He was the one who’d gotten me lessons from the most expensive instructor on the east coast, he was the one who made me audition for different studios, he was the one who made me sign with one. I was too young to really feel like I had a choice in any of it, and I honestly didn’t think I did. So I just…went with it. I was scared if I didn’t, that Albert would get rid of me, and then I’d never see Val again.”

I paused, then nodded. “Yeah, I was terrified of that. It was always in the back of my mind, the possibility that I’d be sent back to the foster home. But I was also a little asshole that did things just so he or Evelyn would pay attention to me. I gave up on Evelyn pretty quickly, but with Albert, he was always ready to scold me or punish me, take away certain privileges. If I didn’t do anything bad, he’d just ignore me. He didn’t give a shit when I succeeded, or if I was good and behaved. Never said a word to me then. For a long time, I wanted his attention, but only knew how to get it by acting out. Getting under his skin. And I enjoyed being this annoying gnat to him. I resented him more than I knew how to deal with on any level, and I wanted him to hurt like he’d made me hurt.

“But yeah…I was fifteen when I went out on that stage and let the world watch me abandon music. Everyone only saw me walk out, but they didn’t see all the days I dealt with this constant feeling of wishing I was doing anything else butthat. Performing for Albert, for people who’d sooner die than hold a hand outto help me up if I fell. All those people—all that attention—felt so wrong. I hated it. I only liked playing my own music, stuff I’d improvise on the spot or spend days writing on my own. I liked toying around with different sounds or playing along to something on the radio. As soon as I was placed into a box and told what to do, it became something I dreaded.”

Those days had been rough. That chunk of time felt like I’d been living someone else’s life as I slowly descended into a numb exhaustion.

“I didn’t want to do it anymore, so I walked off that stage and felt like this enormous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Of course, Albert wasn’t happy at all because I’d fucked over the studio and broken the contract. But I was fifteen, I didn’t give a shit about any of that or really understand what it meant. And then a few days later…Everett did this to my face.” I waved my fingers at the scar. “Albert and Evelyn were away on some trip, and he just…” I swiped my arm in a slashing arc. “No warning. Just walked up to me with a smile on his face, which in retrospect was probably to confuse me. And it worked, because I just stood there, even after he cut me and was walking away. I just stood there.”

I’d taken myself to the hospital since no one else was home. Fuck, what a day.

“And he told everyone I’d done it to myself, that he’d watched me do it and was afraid of me now, and…everyone believed him. It didn’t matter what I said. That was when I realized that the truth meant nothing to these people. ThatImeant nothing.”

I took a deep breath. “So then Albert decided I was having a psychotic break of some sort and sent me away for a whole year to an upscale facility a few hours from here.” I laughed and shook my head. “That was not a fun year, definitely don’t recommend doing that if you can avoid it.”

I realized that I hadn’t looked at Reese while telling him all this, and when I glanced his way, my heart cracked in my chest.

“Whoa, what’s—hey, please don’t cry,” I said, kneeling between his legs and framing his face with my hands. “I didn’t bring a jizz rag today.”

He choked on a laugh, somehow managed to glare at me, then brought his soft hands up to my face. “You d-didn’t deserve that,” he said through a series of hitching breaths.