“Deal.”
I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but I felt Addie moving. She was careful never to release my hand, but she switched it to her other side and wiggled around a bit. Her hands were soft as silk as she passed my hand back and forth between hers. A minute later, she curled up with her back next to me and draped my arm around her waist. My heartbeat sped up enough that all thought of sleep fled my mind. Her hair smelled like it had at the hospital. The heat from her body next to mine felt like a spark; all it needed was a little kindling to scorch us both.
Warning bells went off in my head, telling me to move away, but I couldn’t. I tightened my grip, pulling her closer, and she sighed. She fit perfectly against me, her waist dipped in a curve that was built for my arm to curl around. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb; everything about her was so soft.
It was just a dream. It was harmless.
“It’s not working, is it?” Her voice sounded sad. I hated it so much I considered pretending to be asleep to make her feel better, but I knew that wouldn’t do either of us any good.
I pulled in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “No. I’m sorry. But it’s closer to sleep than I’ve gotten before. You know, without the hypnosis thing.”
She rolled over inside my arms to face me and my breath got stuck in my throat. Her lips, her eyes, her body—everything about her was so close. The situation had suddenly changed from a semi-harmless nap to something entirely different. The warning bells in my head turned to sirens and I started to pull away, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and held me in place.
With one small smile, she silenced the alarm, and it was over. I was done for.
Her feelings mirrored mine; I could feel them. A lightning bolt couldn’t come close to the attraction, the electricity that flowed between us. My arms tightened, pulling her closer. In the last month, we’d become like magnets, and I couldn’t keep flipping over trying to keep us apart anymore.
I lowered my head and gently brushed my lips against hers. The mist around us churned with warmth as her fingers curled in my hair and she kissed me back, pulling me closer. Any will I had left dissolved.
We became lost in each other. I moved my mouth against hers slowly, enjoying the moment. She scratched the back of my neck with her fingernails, and it was impossible to imagine ever willingly letting go. I wanted to kiss her forever.
The first explosion made me jump, and I tucked Addie’s head into my chest out of instinct. I felt her giggling into my shirt, and she peeked out with one hazel eye and pointed up. The mist parted above us and I saw the stars exploding into fireworks.
I laughed and sat upright, still loosely holding her hand. She tried to pull me to her again, but I resisted. When she sat up, she was very quiet. As much as I wanted to keep kissing her, I couldn’t. This was a mistake—an amazing mistake—but still a mistake. I could tell from the red creeping up her neck and the way she wouldn’t meet my eyes that she already felt embarrassed, rejected.
I’d been lying to myself. Nothing about this had been harmless.
The more I let this continue, the harder it would be to stop. It had to end now. I wouldn’t risk her, not Addie. She was too—I grasped for a word that would describe the mixture of fear, misery, and fury that ran through me at the idea of someone hurting her. But I came up short.
The fireworks stopped and the mist cooled. It was silent. This was fascinating. I’d never seen the setting in a dream mimic the feelings of the Dreamer so closely. I felt her emotions—disappointment, sadness, a touch of anger—but it was like the dream world around us felt it too. Even the murmuring from the other dream levels quieted. I didn’t know what to say. I could feel how I’d hurt her and I didn’t want to make it worse.
“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have—of course, you don’t.”
I groaned and turned to face her. “I’m the one who kissed you, remember?”
“Then what?” Her big eyes stared at me, waiting for an explanation I didn’t know how to articulate. How could I make her see all the reasons this wouldn’t work?
“Well, you’re Finn’s sister.”
Addie opened her mouth to object, but I plowed on before she could interrupt. “And I’m not good for you …
Addie, I accepted that I might not live to see graduation a long time ago, and I don’t want you to have to deal with it.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut. After a moment, she swallowed. “First, that’s just an excuse and you know it.” Her eyes glinted with determination in the twinkling starlight, but her expression was wounded. “Whatever we are to each other, if you … if anything happened to you … I’d still have to ‘deal with it.’”
My word choices were never the right ones. The pain I felt emanating from her surprised and scared me. I turned away but it was no use; I felt it in my core. My life had become like a black hole. I sucked at everything and everyone around me, taking pieces of them and ripping them apart. Why should my death affect them any differently?
Addie would be better off if she’d never known me.
The mist around us turned dark and blotted out any pinpoint of starlight coming through the clouds. I’d created this gloom in her life and I could never forgive myself for it.
“I need to leave.”
She wrapped her other hand around mine and squeezed tight with both. “No. I think I know how to keep you alive. I could help you.”
“How?”
“I could convince my parents I need to see a hypnotherapist.” Addie shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the red creeping up her neck and feel the heat in my own. “I’m sure I could come up with some issues that need to be dealt with.”
I felt my mouth open and close a few times and finally clamped it shut. I couldn’t trust what might eventually find its way out.
“Of course, I’d find a different therapist than—oh, I forgot.” Addie stared at me, her skin paling. “Mia called on our way home. You might have been wrong about that doctor not being involved.”
My brain sputtered into motion like an old car, lurching to life. “Wha-what do you mean?”
“I don’t know specifics, but I guess he died a couple of days ago. They wanted to refer her to a different therapist.” Addie shrugged again. “Anyway, she hasn’t received an e-mail since he died.”
Darkness whispered from the back of my mind. There was still another possibility: if the e-mails were from me, I’d been in the hospital, unconscious, which would also explain why she hadn’t received any more.
I hated that I could still feel him, even in Addie’s dream. Darkness was weaker now that I wasn’t as exhausted, but he was still there, squirming around in my head. Like a serpent waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. He pulled on my thoughts, twisted my emotions. Darkness was part of me—the weaker part, the part willing to do anything to survive. The side of me that believed I could keep quiet and this would all blow over, all go away.
Mia might be willing to help me now. If not, Addie had just volunteered. I could live a normal life, and no one would have to know. No one would have to know I might have killed someone.
Even I didn’t have to know, not for sure.
I jerked away from the dark tendrils warping my thoughts. I would never be like that. I refused to give in to the obscure and murky logic.
I had to tell someone, no matter how much I wanted to avoid it. Now, when I was stronger, when I had the power—now. I needed to tell Addie the truth.
“I know.” I swallowed, trying to keep my throat from closing up and finishing our conversation for me.
Addie watched me, waiting. Her nose scrunched up. “You know what?”
“I know he’s dead.” I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I saw him before my accident.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when I shook my head.
&nbs
p; “The last couple of months, things have been happening to me. Things I can’t explain. I’ve been seeing things. They might be hallucinations; they might not. I really don’t understand what’s going on, but I’m losing control.” I rubbed my wrist across my forehead. I couldn’t look at Addie. Not while I admitted this. I’d seen her dreams; I’d felt her emotions. She saw something different in me than the truth, something better. She saw a lie.
As much as both of us wanted it to be true, I was no hero.
“I think I might’ve killed him.”
Addie drew a sharp breath and squeezed my hand. “How could you think that?”
“It’s not—I’m not always myself lately.” How could I explain this to her? Addie’s eyes were huge, and the brown and green swirls seemed to rotate in confusion.
“Freeburg was such a pervert,” I said. “It made me crazy. In his dream, I hit him with a paperweight until he died and the dream stopped. When I woke up, I worried it might have been real, which is why I went to see him first thing in the morning. When I got there it was still early … and he was dead.”
Her skin was so pale she blended with the mist around us. The only emotion I felt from her at that moment was pure shock. “He was murdered?” she whispered.
“I don’t know. He looked like he was still asleep, but he wasn’t breathing.”
“How—” Addie cleared her throat and tried again. “How can you be sure he didn’t just have a heart attack or something?”
“That would be quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”
She stared at me, and her shock faded like stars before sunrise. “So, you attacked someone in a dream, which I’ve probably done a dozen times, and that makes you a murderer?” She shook her head and gave me a relieved smile. “No way, Parker. I don’t buy it.”
Every part of me threatened to cave in, to be happy and go along with it. To believe that my ability wasn’t strong enough, that it wasn’t possible. But I knew it wasn’t the same thing.
This was the best thing I could do for her. To shatter any illusions she had about who I was—about what we could be together.
“That isn’t all, Addie.”
Her smile slid down her face like raindrops on a window, and the mist around us froze.
“The other me, from Mia’s dreams—it’s like he’s real. He’s a part of me, in my head, and sometimes he takes over. Once I found myself in a tree outside her window. I don’t know how I got there. I’m losing it, Addie. I can’t be trusted.”
“No,” Addie murmured. She shook her head and turned away, her entire frame shaking. Her anguish struck at my heart and plucked at my veins in a more painful way than I’d believed possible.
“Yes. I sat there, watching her. You need to believe me. I see things—things that I don’t want to be real, that can’t be. Like I didn’t fall asleep at the wheel … I saw him, the dark side of me, standing in the road in front of me. Somehow I made myself get in that accident.” I grabbed her chin and brought her eyes up to meet mine. “Whether I killed Freeburg or not, I tried to. Don’t you see? In his dream, I wanted to. I’m not even sure which parts of his dream were memory and which were fantasy, but either way, I ended his life. I’m dangerous.”
Her hazel eyes stared back at me, but instead of the fear I expected to feel, there was anger. They flashed, and the mist around me rumbled with thunder.
“No. I don’t believe it and I never will. You’re all kinds of messed up, but you aren’t a threat to anyone but yourself. We’re all dangerous. We hurt others all the time without meaning to. Even if you did kill him, you were in a dream. You could never know it would carry over into reality. You’d never hurt someone intentionally.” Her jaw was set and she held my hand tight in both of hers. “I know you.”
“How could you?” I sighed and pressed my chin into my chest. “I don’t even know me anymore.”
“Well, I do. So maybe you should trust someone else’s instincts for a change.” Her voice softened and her anger changed to kindness. “Let me help you.”
Looking into her eyes, I knew she would never believe I could hurt anyone. Nothing I said would convince her of who I really was or what I was really capable of. There was only one thing left to do, only one way to protect her.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into my chest. The relief I felt from her was tainted by suspicion, and it almost made me laugh. She knew me better than I’d ever suspected—but not as well as she thought.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered into her hair, breathing in the scent of her, feeling her in my arms for probably the last time. She lifted her chin from my chest in confusion. I released the iron grip I was holding myself in and savored the moment. Her lips were so close and so perfect they dragged me in, and I kissed her again—there was a drive to it now, a need, an urgency. I hated myself for everything I’d done, hated Darkness for making it impossible for me to be with her.
Addie sighed and melted against me, both of us forgetting everything but each other. My blood pumped through my body with extraordinary speed, bringing every piece of me to life in ways I’d never felt before. The world, my worries, the dreams, all fell away until nothing else existed.
My breath came in ragged puffs when I finally managed to pull away. She smiled at me, and I felt her trust stab through me like a sword, opening me up and leaving my insides vulnerable and exposed. I tucked one tangled auburn curl behind her ear and kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry,” I muttered against the soft skin in front of her ear. “Goodbye, Addie.”
Then I let go and rolled quickly away from her. I couldn’t risk her anymore—or Finn or Mia—any of them. I doubted I could find out the truth about Dr. Freeburg—I might never know if I caused his death, and I’d have to live with that.
There was only one way to know the truth about how dangerous I was: the threatening e-mails that were sent to Mia. If I’d sent those, then I was beyond help, beyond control. I’d have to take some kind of action to be certain I couldn’t hurt anyone ever again. I needed to know now, before I put my friends any more at risk.
“Parker?” she whispered. It only took an instant for Addie to understand. Tears poured down her cheeks. The mist formed solid clouds churning around us and the rain came. I was only inches away, but she couldn’t see me unless I touched her.
The pain in her heart hit me with such force I gasped for breath. It was followed swiftly by a fear that I didn’t understand. Maybe she was afraid of me. Even though I deserved it, it cut my soul. She was the one who had faith when I didn’t. Knowing she was afraid filled me with a despair that threatened to break down my plan, if only to reassure her—to make her believe in me again.
“Don’t leave me,” Addie choked out in barely recognizable gasps. “Not like this, not by choice.”
Her fear was of losing me.
I took both my hands and tucked them under my thighs, pinning them to the ground. Her emotions were shattering my resolve into a million pieces, but I couldn’t let them take control. I would protect her.
Addie reached out with her hands and they passed right through me. It was nothing more than a warm breeze. I pushed down on my hands harder, forcing them to stay put.
I felt her shift in emotions before I even saw it in her face. She was angry. I could handle that. Let her be angry. Her anger didn’t make me want to throw myself in front of a bus. After everything I’d done, to her and everyone around me, I deserved more than anger. I deserved hatred, but that didn’t come.
She stomped around yelling my name over and over, along with a few colorful words I’d never heard her use in the real world. The rain had an occasional burst of lightning, but it didn’t take long to fizzle out.
At the end, she curled into a small ball a few feet away from me and cried. It was miserable watching her, seeing the pain I could cause even when my intentions were good. Her feelings of abandonme
nt were overwhelming. I’d felt this way when Dad never came back. It was the worst kind of pain I’d ever experienced. It was what Mom must’ve felt too.
And now I’d done it to Addie—I was no better than him.
I stretched out on the soft cloudy substance, only an inch away but refusing to touch her. I made myself watch the pain I’d caused. I deserved punishment for what I’d done, for everything I’d done.
The rain came in a steady downpour. I licked my lips and was surprised to find them salty. I couldn’t tell if it was the rain or my own tears mixing with the water.
twenty-eight
The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds of the hospital window. I rolled away from it and tried to close my eyes again, but the image of Addie crying appeared and they flew back open. With every blink, she returned. Her tortured face was imprinted on the insides of my eyelids like an after-image from looking directly at the sun.
I grabbed the remote and adjusted my bed to an upright position. The machines humming in the silence made me shiver. There was only one possible plan at this point. I needed to get home and get to my computer.
We’re all dangerous.
Addie’s words bounced around inside my head.
We hurt others all the time without meaning to.
Even if you did kill him, you were in a dream.
You could never know it would carry over into reality.
You’d never hurt someone intentionally.
She could be right. I hadn’t believed it possible to hurt a Dreamer, and I still didn’t know for sure if I did. It didn’t matter, though; I’d never try it again. The question was—could I make that kind of promise? Even if I never hurt anyone, how much control did Darkness have over me? Could he hurt someone even though I didn’t want to? I couldn’t risk it.
The e-mails were truly the only thing I could think of, the only way to be certain of his power. Someone else could’ve created that address to frame me for stalking Mia. Or I created it—Darkness created it. Cold sweat ran from my pores at the thought. If I could access the account—if it was a password that only made sense to me—then I’d know Darkness was the monster chasing Mia.
Insomnia (The Night Walkers) Page 22