Page 80 of Drown Like Heaven
“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean,” I forced myself to answer after a minute, but my voice broke, wobbled, trying to bleed into a sob.
“You do know. Look at me.”
You can’t hide from me, baby.
I opened my eyes, hating every ounce of vulnerability I knew was showing on my face.
I’m not capable of anything when it comes to you.
“Why are you so sad?”
“You can’t just ask someone that,” I snapped, internally panicking because I was about to cry. He knew it, too. He knew how to push on every old bruise, knew what amount of pressure would weaken me most.
“You asked me about my scars. I’m just returning the favor. Asking about yours.”
“Well, don’t.”
“Who hurt you?”
“You, for starters,” I bit out, sobs making my chest tight.Get off me. I need space.“But you don’t care about that.”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Whohurtyou, Dakota. Past tense. Who hurt you before I did? Who made you like this before me?”
I was gasping, stupid tears tipping over my eyelashes.
“There are so many things wrong with me that I can’t even begin to explain them all to you,” I said angrily. “Take me home.”
“No—”
“I said take me home!” I screamed, launching myself out from under him, panting wildly. Both of us were standing on the sand now, staring at each other, the distance between us growing. If I reached out my arm now, I wouldn’t be able to touch him.
“You—”
“Stop!I don’t want to fucking talk to you about this! Take me home!”
“Thought you liked the bus.” He took a step back.
My stomach dropped.
Fuck. You.
I swiped my fingers across my cheeks, trying to rid them of tears. The rain was coming down harder now, pummeling the top of my head and dripping off my chin.
I didn’t say another word to Mason before I turned and started up the rocks.
He didn’t stop me.
He didn’t stop me.
The pain in my chest intensified.
His car was parked at the top. I thought about the first time I’d been in it. Mason giving me his dry clothes. Him taking them off of me later. Him covering my mouth and nose with his palm. Somehow, that was easier than this.
I pushed onward, ducking my head against the sheets of rain.
My heart was in my hands, bleeding out everywhere, too goddamn soft for the situations I was putting myself in. Tender and naive and crimson. My chest ached, a raw wound growing from the center of me, spreading like an infection.
Even as I walked to the bus stop through the rain, I was waiting for him.
