Page 81 of Wicked Little Darling

His hand felt so good, pressing me into the bed. Keeping me tethered when all I wanted to do was disappear.

“Why—w-why do you care? I don’t need help. I would’ve been fine! I wasfinebefore you came along! I have never needed you for anything and I don’t need you now! I don’t needanyone!”

In spite of my words, I grabbed hold of his other hand and clutched it hard, bringing it right next to my face. I tipped my head until his fingers brushed against my cheek and cried even harder.

That had drained me, like I’d expelled some of those overwhelming emotions. I sagged into the mattress, was bone tired now, and the sadness was trying to squeeze its way in.

Dakota scooted closer to me and ran his hand up my back to my head, where he threaded his fingers into my hair. “No, you wouldnothave been fine. And it has something to do with me when we share the same room and I find you passed out in our bathtub. I thought you weredead, Reese.”

I turned my head and looked up at Dakota as the guilt poured over me like cement, drowning me in shame and regret.

In spite of his calm words, he looked angry. And not the detached, guarded anger like when I’d run up to him when he was with Everett. This was a wild, fiery anger.

The dark bags under his eyes only augmented the guilt. Had he gotten any sleep?

He kept going when I didn’t say anything. “I don’t give a shit if you’re pissed. Go ahead, be pissed at me, but I’m not fucking apologizing for helping you and I’m not leaving you, no matter how much you yell at me. Do you have any idea how scared I was? Do you? Do you have any clue what it was like walking into that bathroom and seeing you like that? I thought you weredead. And when you begged me not to take you to the hospital, I didn’t.” He shook his head. “Yes, you fuckingdoneed someone. You do.”

Dakota didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to bear a single one of my burdens or have me yelling at him after he spent the night looking after me.

So I could feel your heartbeat.

Nausea churned in my stomach, and I squeezed my eyes shut as more tears slipped from the corners of my eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I—” I didn’t even know what to say. Any kind of explanation wasn’t forthcoming, and I had no idea what my next words would’ve been but it didn’t matter anyway. My throat was too thick to push anything past it, and I felt stripped completely bare in front of him.

Raw.

Flayed open.

Except there was nothing inside for him to see. He had all my secrets now.

I didn’t know how to deal with any of this. My knee-jerk reaction was to fight, to hurt what was hurting me—but in this case,Iwas the one hurting me.

Dakota was just trying to help.

But he’d seen. He’d seen my scars, and now…

Now he knew the most horrible truth about me. Now he could see how ugly I really was on the insideandoutside, and there was no taking it back. Ever. There was no hiding anymore. Anything else he might see was nothing in comparison to what he’d already learned.

I’d always dreaded this moment, knew it would be horrible, and did everything I could to prevent it from happening. But I had no idea that I would feel like the final vestiges of who I’d been pretending to be would fall away and leave me sitting here as a different person.

That I’d become this ugly, irredeemable, brokenthing.

I didn’t know that I’d feel so…empty. That maskwas the one piece of armor I had left, and it’d just been ripped from me and torn into pieces.

And it was allmyfault, not Dakota’s.

A bitter laugh burned up my throat, sharp and acidic. Got stuck there. Died there.

Why Dakota was even here right now, I didn’t know. Why hadn’t he just left me in that tub? Why had he lain in bed with me?

So I could feel your heartbeat.

Dakota leaned down, his eyes searching mine. “I don’t know how long you’ve been doing this, or why, but you don’t have to carry this alone anymore. I can help you, Reese. I can be there for you. Let me help you.”

The desperation in his voice was all too real. Too terrifying.

Why had I ever once thought he was fucking with me? That he was saying things just to mess with me? He’d proved with his words and his actions time and time again that he meant what he said. And because I knew that he really would help me if I asked him, because he was still here after seeing me at my very worst, still offering to help, Dakota Voss was the most dangerous person in my life.