Page 36 of The Plan

He gives me a soft look and then wraps his arm around me, pulling me closer. I look past him, not wanting to meet his eyes as I continue, “I was the one that found her. She was so pale, just laying there in a pool of her own vomit, and her eyes… God, her eyes.”

I choke up a bit at the memory. “The spark that was usually there was just gone. Nothing in them. She was staring at me, and she looked like herself but wasn’t.” A shiver runs down my spine as I recall how cold her eyes looked, how cold she felt.

I feel his warm fingers wipe the tears from my cheek. “I tried to save her. I swear I did. I kept pushing down on her chest, but I didn’t know how to perform CPR.” I hear my voice crack, and I swallow the lump in my throat as the words keep spitting out. “I would’ve… I would’ve known if I hadn’t skipped my first aid class all the time.”

Sire pulls my chin so my eyes will meet his, “You can’t blame yourself for that.” I do, though.

“I shouldn’t have skipped that class. She always told me it was an important class, but I didn’t listen. Why would I ever need to know how to perform CPR? That's what I always told her. It’s my fault she’s gone. I—”

He gives my chin a firm squeeze. “Don’t say that. It wasn’t your fault, do you hear me?”

I move my chin from his grasp. “It was, Sire.”

“It wasn’t, Vidia. She was already gone. You’re in pre-med—you know that unless you had naloxone to reverse the overdose, you couldn’t have saved her whether you knew CPR or not, so say it. It wasn’t your fault.”

I feel a few more tears trickle down my cheek as I repeat after him. “It wasn’t my fault.”It wasn’t.A few minutes go by, and we sit in a comfortable silence. I put one hand under the pillow and run the other along his ribs, where his tattoo of the eagle is holding the person. Now that I’m this close, I can see it looks like a small child in its talons.

“Does it mean anything?” He takes a while to respond, so I look up at him to check if he fell asleep, but he hasn’t; he’s staring down at me.

He has one hand under his head and is rubbing my temple with the other. I wonder if he can feel it throbbing. “She tried to kill me.” I go still, and I feel my eyebrows crease. Who tried to kill him?

He closes his eyes, and I think he’s going to sleep, but then he opens them and explains his previous statement. “My psychotic ass bio mom tried killing me, and I dream about it every damn night.” I tense at his raw confession. Sothat’swhat his nightmares are about. He says it like he is trying the words on his tongue. Is this his first time saying it out loud?

He keeps his eyes on mine, and he looks like he’s using them to keep him grounded. “She told me we were going for a drive. We were home a lot, so I loved car rides.” I keep my eyes locked on him as he continues. “She kept swerving the entire time, and I didn’t know it then since I was only eight, but she was high as a damn kite like always.” Like always? She must’ve been an addict too.

“She started speeding, and I put my window down to feel the cool air on my face, only I didn’t feel the cool air. I felt freezing cold water instead. When I looked over to the driver seat, shewasn’t there anymore.” My brows furrow, but then my breath is caught in my throat at his next sentence.

“That bitch drove into a lake and jumped out before we even hit the water.” I look between his eyes in disbelief. What kind of mother would even think to do that to their own child?

Sire is still holding my gaze, but his mind is somewhere else, and there’s a resentment in them as he recalls his horrid memory. “The water was filling the car so damn fast. I couldn’t see much, and my seatbelt was stuck. I just kept calling for her because what kid wouldn’t call for their mom when they’re about to drown?”

I feel the back of my eyes sting, but I quickly blink my tears away. I want him to finish telling me, and he’s looking at me like he’s about to lose it. One of us needs to stay strong, and it doesn’t need to be him right now.

“By some miracle, the seatbelt finally gave out, but the car was already completely filled with water. I pulled myself out from the window and tried swimming up, but it felt like I was being dragged under.”

His eyes begin to water, but he quickly closes them and rests his forehead on mine. “I kept looking up to the surface. It looked so fucking far, Vid.” He sounds like he’s in actual pain, and I just want to take all of it away. The pain, the memory. Everything.

“I started panicking, and I let out a scream, but no one could hear you when you're being pulled to the bottom of a lake.” I feel a tear fall on my cheek, but it isn’t mine. I remember his panic attack in the aquarium, and it makes so much sense now. Sage was right—he does have PTSD.

Reaching up to his cheek, I wipe his tears as he opens his eyes, holding my hand as if he’ll lose me forever if he lets go. “The doctors say I was hallucinating due to the lack of air, and maybe I was, but I saw a huge bird under there with me. It pulled me to the surface.”

“It was your guardian angel.”

He gives me the saddest smile ever. “It was Halloween night. The twins and our mom rushed to the hospital when they heard what happened. As soon as I saw her, I broke down crying.” His voice breaks, and I give him a minute. “She was wearing an eagle costume.”

My tears finally seep through as he goes on, “I kept thanking her for saving me, but she was an hour away when it happened, so I don’t know, maybe it was all in my head, but that's the meaning behind my tattoo.”

We wipe each other's tears, and I look down at his tattoo one more time and trace the eagle pulling the little boy from out the water. In a way, she did save him, whether she was there or not.

Sire lightly pulls my chin up so our eyes meet, and I get lost in the way he’s looking at me. Like my eyes are windows to an entirely different universe, and I feel like time is freezing.

His eyes dart down to my mouth, and he brushes my bottom lip with his thumb, “Can I?” He doesn’t sound like he’s in pain anymore, but I still want to take it all away.

I give him a small smile while nodding as he leans into me. Our lips connect like two puzzle pieces perfectly. In this moment, with our mouths moving in perfect sync, all the pain from the dark meaning of our tattoos floats away.

Chapter Nine

Vidia

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