Page 129 of The Darkest Note

The real me.

Awkwardly, I lick my lips and glance at him. He’s dressed in all black, as if he wants to blend into the shadows. But a guy that looks like him could never blend in anywhere. His eyes are two bright, golden suns peering out of a face crafted to perfection. His body is a weapon of mass destruction. Tats climb up and disappear under the sleeve of his shirt. His muscles bulge when he folds his arms over his chest.

Dutch glances at me and holds my eyes. There’s no hint of discomfort. He’s cocky as always. Annoyingly at ease.

This isn’t what I pictured when he told me we were going to a hotel. I expected a key card and a beeping sensor. I expected his hands all over me, finding the soft places, the quiet places. Exploring parts of me that I’d never exposed to anyone before.

Didn’t we both know what his invitation meant? Didn’t I accept it?

I was ready. Willing, even.

Anything to escape the pounding dread that’s gathering like storm clouds in my heart.

The darkness I’ve run from my whole life is breathing down my neck. It crept out of the shadows when I saw my brother. Rick’s eyes when he admitted to not being able to afford our rentandhis is embedded in my mind.

Yet another soul crushed by mom’s selfishness and irresponsibility. Yet another weight I have to bear now that I know the truth. How much more until it buries me? Until I’m a mangled mess?

My skin feels too tight. Like I’m about to pop out of it. My heart is hammering behind my ribs. I know what I’m running from. Mom’s ghost. She’s haunting me tonight like a bad spirit. Dark shadows in every corner. Secrets threatening to spring out like snakes.

I grab Dutch’s hand before we get to the rooftop. “What are we doing up here?”

What I mean to say is… why aren’t we in one of those hotel rooms?

I don’t want to feel right now.

I need him to get rid of my thoughts.

I need to feel his skin so I forget that mine doesn’t fit anymore.

Isn’t he the prince of Redwood? He’s probably popped more cherries than he can count on his fingers and toes. Are we really walking up here to gaze at stars and talk about our feelings?

I don’t want to do that. I want to escape into something that’ll take my breath away.

“You’ll see,” he says, smiling slightly. Taking my hand, he leads me forward.

On the rooftop, lanterns strung from lights flutter in the breeze. Flower bushes lift their faces to the sky. In the center of it all sits a grand piano. Moonlight glints against the shiny black paint.

I stop in my tracks. “How… how did you get this up here?”

Dutch releases my hand and takes a seat behind it. Without a word, he starts to play. His fingers are long and slender, perfect for the piano. They drift over the keys without hesitation.

I recognize the melody. It’s a slowed down version of the piece I did at the show case just before I started Redwood Prep.

Uncertainty grips me by the throat when I realize I’m in way over my head. I thought Dutch would touch me physically, but he’s gone much darker. Much deeper. Because he couldn’t be satisfied with just taking my body tonight. He’s trying to touch my heart.

As he continues to play, I approach the piano. The buzzing that I felt between us in the elevator jumps another degree.

With his head bowed and his eyes closed, he looks like a sculpture come to life. Warm. Magnetic. Alive. He’s nothing like the cold, obnoxious Dutch that prowls the halls of Redwood Prep.

Tonight, his guard is lowered. There’s darkness, yes. But there’s something else. Brokenness. Emptiness. A longing for more. He’s letting me see the rawness that lingers just beneath the surface.

Something shifts inside me.

“I didn’t know you could play piano,” I say.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” he says with a low laugh.

I smirk. “You’d be surprised how wrong you are.”

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