by K. L. Jessop
If only.
"How bad can they get?" I ask, needing to know. With no response, I look up to find Emmet’s troubled expression. His jaw is locked, his eyes focused on the ground, and I know without hearing it he’s seen Dexter at his worst.
“Please, Emmet. If I don’t know of his history, I need to know of this.”
A heavy sigh leaves him before he looks at me. "In the very beginning, it was bad. One time—before he was diagnosed—he was on a rage so bad that he beat me. I was left hurt and badly bruised while he fell into a heap and sobbed himself into a whisky-filled coma. The next morning, he asked me what happened."
My eyes widen. "He had no idea he'd done it?"
"No."
"And you never reported it?"
“I risked everything, but I couldn’t put him through that.”
“Why?”
He is quiet a moment. "Because I saw a good side to him and knew the man he could be. In my eyes, he’s been hurt too much already, and I know the bad wasn't him. It was after that he was diagnosed and from that point on, I knew he needed help. There was no one else in his life willing to provide the support he truly needed. So I stood by him, despite everything that had happened.”
Never have I met a man so compassionate and respectful as the one sitting across from me. From the moment I’d first seen Emmet in the coffee shop, I’d known he had a generosity like no other, but the more I listen to him and know of what he has done for Dexter, the more I adore this man altogether. A woman, fortunate enough to be in Emmet’s life will be a woman who will never fear anything again. His kind heart and warm green-blue eyes are just an inkling as to what is hidden below the surface.
My chest aches, and a ball of emotion forms in my throat when I look back at Dexter, knowing I want to give him that same amount of strength and support but still question whether or not I can be that person for him.
"I believe I've failed him already,” I murmur, fresh tears escaping. “It's only the first time I've seen him this way and I’m already struggling."
“It will take time, Pepper. I was battling a war to begin with, but as I said before, I’ve seen a change in him already, and I cannot stress enough how happy that makes me. You're doing a great job "
"Then why do I feel so helpless?"
His eyes fill with empathy and his soft voice soothes the apprehension I’m feeling. “Because you’re so new to all of this, sweetheart. But most of all because of how you feel. There’s nothing worse than watching someone you care for lose themselves in their own mind that they believe is full of hatred and despair.”
"I love him, Emmet.”
“I know you do.”
Silence falls between us as Dexter stirs, mumbling something to himself that I can’t understand. Then, as if my stomach needs an end to this sincere conversation that has just unfolded between Emmet and me, it rumbles loudly.
Looking up at Emmet, I find him grinning with a raised brow. “What is it with your stomach interrupting serious conversations?”
I chuckle, wiping my eyes. “I like to be awkward at times.”
“You’re definitely something. I’ll make us some food.”
“You’ll have a job, there’s hardly anything there.”
He groans as he makes his way over to the kitchen. “I’m sure there’s something. I can usually rustle something up. As long as he’s got eggs.”
Searching through Dexter’s fridge and cupboards, Emmet’s shoulders drop in defeat.
I chuckle softly again. “Told you.”
“Shit. Dexter,” he groans, only this time it’s not the lack of food he’s referring to. He’s holding something in his hand, studying it. “This explains things.”
“What’s that?” I whisper, loud enough for him to hear me and not wake Dexter.
Looking over, Emmet holds up a little packet of pills. “He’s missed some of his meds.”
“Is it normal for him to do that?”
“It’s happened in the past. Usually when he’s too distracted.”
Remorse hits me.
“Pepper, whatever you are thinking, don’t,” he says in a firm tone I’ve not heard before. “This is not down to you.”
“But what if I’m the reason for his distraction?”
“And what if his distraction was his work? You are not to blame for this. No one is. This isn’t the first time and I sure as hell won’t count on it being the last.” He comes over to me and kneels in front of the mattress, but no matter what he says or how much he tries to make me feel better, nothing will change the fact that I feel as though I’m the cause of Dexter’s downfall. “This isn’t your fault, Pep. Promise me you believe that.”
“I promise,” I lie.
He sighs, looking at Dexter, and I can see there is something running through Emmet’s mind. Whatever it is, he doesn’t speak it. Instead, he changes the subject back to the original point of conversation. “You were right: there’s fuck all to eat in this house. Pizza for the lady?”
With raised brows, he’s practically telling me in one look that my answer needs to be yes.
I chuckle softly. “As long as it has extra pineapple.”
“That’s my girl. I’ll be thirty minutes, tops. You ok here?”
“I’ll be fine,” I whisper. “He’s sleeping like a baby.”
“I’ll be right back.”
After Emmet leaves, the sound of distant city traffic filters into the apartment as Dexter’s breathing presses against my skin. I’d sleep, but I can’t take my eyes of him.
I begin to stroke his hair delicately again, needing to comfort him. His long lashes whisper against his skin, and if it weren’t for his eyes flicking from side to side under his closed lids, I would say he’s in a tranquil sleep.
“What’s troubling you, my handsome man?” I whisper. “What are you hiding from me? Why are you so scared?”
Like someone has pushed a button, Dexter’s eyes spring to life, his wide, dark hues focusing on me hard.
For a moment, I can’t work out if he’s still sleeping or if in fact he’s awake, but either way, the hold he has on me sends an unpleasant shiver down my spine.
“You okay, baby?” I whisper, but it’s like my voice has put a charge in him and his three-hour sleep has done nothing to calm him as he sits up abruptly.
“Get the fuck off me,” he growls, quickly leaving the bed and standing. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I remain in place, unmoving as my heart begins to pound.
“Why are you here? Didn’t you get the fucking message? You stupid bitch.”
He stands over me, the venom in his voice filling me with dread, and as much as I need to stay calm, something tells me I won’t be able to.
“Dexter, listen to me,” I whisper, holding my hands out to try and protect myself from his words.
“Why the fuck would I want to do that? No fucker listens to me.”
Thankfully he storms towards the kitchen, giving me time to breathe and get to my feet. Now I know he hasn’t been taking his meds and the history of his violence, my blood is boiling, only not with anger.
Opening the untouched bottle of JD on his kitchen table, he downs half of it in one go, trying to steady himself as he stands, before he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. When he slams the bottle down on the table, a deep, twisted chuckle leaves him, leaving me confused. I don’t know if he’s laughing at himself for whatever reason or if in fact, he’s laughing at the current situation that I suddenly want to escape from.
When he glances out of the corner of his eyes, his wicked stare practically pins me to the wall. The evil in his eyes is something I’ve never seen before, and even from afar, it’s haunting. My chest is so tight I can barely breathe, my heart racing a mile a minute, and I know I need to calm down in case he picks up on the fear that’s currently travelling through me.
“Emmet will be back soon. He’s just gone for some food.” I say quietly, hoping that my response will someho
w fix his sudden change in behaviour.
“Like I give a fuck,” he snarls, his voice getting louder. “I don’t need either of you. Why are you here?”
You told me not to leave you.
“For you. I’m here for you.” Thinking it’s the right thing to do, I take a step towards him, my body beginning to tremble. “I told you I’d be here for you, Dexter. So here I am.”
His jaw is solid, his shoulder blades so tight they could shred paper. “Why?”
“Because I care… I care about you.”
“Well, I wouldn’t bother. So take your soppy shit and get the fuck out.”
“I’m not leaving remember?”
He takes another long pull of the JD as I take another step towards him, not knowing where this inner strength is coming from because I’m feeling anything but strong right now. I’ve seen him cross, I’ve seen him vulnerable, but I’ve not seen him with the amount of anger that’s recoiling off him and knowing what I now do, I should be stepping away not moving towards him. But I just want him to see that I’m here. That he can trust me.
“I’m not going, Dexter. Because…”
“What!” he roars, making me flinch. “Because you care?”
“Yes.”
Like it’s the most hilarious thing in the world, he laughs out loud, shaking his head, but it’s not a normal laugh, it’s something disturbing—something you would hear in a horror movie that brings a chill to my bones.
“Because you care,” he mocks.
I need him to find me. I long for him to find my eyes so I can try and get back the Dexter I had earlier today even though that side of him had still been painful to see. I’d have any Dexter right now than the one who’s currently becoming more volatile the longer we do this.
“Tell me why you’re so cross right now.” I take another step towards him. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”
His eyes turn into slits, his fist ball at his sides, and all the while, I’m discreetly searching for my phone to call Emmet.
“Talk to you? You want me to talk to you?”
“I’d like nothing more.”
“Why the fuck would I talk to you?” he seethes, taking a step in my direction.
“Because you know me. You like me.”
“Don’t kid yourself, Little Blue, it was all a lie. Now go ride on your girly scooter and fuck off.”
It’s the biggest blow yet, but I carry on trying. I’m not sure what to say and not sure what’s right, though, because no matter what I say or don’t do, I’ll be pushing him regardless.
“I don’t believe that. This is me, Dexter. This is us.”
“This is definitely not us. So, do yourself a favour and for once in your shitty little broken life listen to me.”
“But this isn’t you, so I’m not going to listen. The Dexter I know and love wouldn’t want me to leave.”
Like I’ve poured ice over him, his body stiffens, and I swear I can hear his teeth grinding as his fatal eyes burn into me like I’m pure evil.
“What?”
I go to speak, but my words are caught in my throat, and when he starts walking towards me, my blood runs cold. I suddenly want to run but know there is know where to go.
“What did you say?”
“D-Dexter.”
“Answer me!” he roars.
“I… I said the Dexter I know, and love wouldn’t want me to leave.” I’m trembling, my palms sweaty, and I can’t seem to control the rapid beating of my pulse that’s hammering in every part of my body. I need Emmet. Why is he taking so long?
Dexter stands in front of me, the heat from his body ricocheting against mine, the fury in his breathing pounding against my face as he comes in close, teeth gritted.
He seethes out his words that get louder by the second. “You don’t know me, Blue. You don’t know me. At. All.”
“Dexter,” I whisper, my voice pitiful as tears cloud my vision.
With each step he takes forward, I take one back.
This isn’t him. This is not my Dexter.
“Don’t, Dexter me!” he roars in my face. “You know nothing about me!”
“I know this isn’t you,” I weep. “Please just let me help you.”
“No!”
I step back.
He steps forward. His eyes bloodshot and big, the anger in them threatening.
“Dexter. Don’t do this.”
Another step.
I’m back up against the wall, likely to collapse any minute. Never in my life have I been so scared. Reaching out to try and gain space between us and try and protect myself, I instantly know it’s the wrong thing when my hands press against his solid torso and he smacks them away.
“Don’t touch me!” he bellows, his tone so forceful it causes my eyes to close.
“I’m sorry—”
He grips my arm, pressing his fingers so tight I wince at the pain and cry out. “Dexter…” I plead, my voice breaking from the contact. “You’re hurting me.”
This isn’t him.
Where is Emmet?
“Why don’t you ever listen? Why do you always push me over and over? You never. Fucking. Listen!”
Not knowing what else to do, I hit out, making contact with his solid chest and scream at him to let me go. Only in the blink of an eye, I’ve brought on my own fate when the piercing grip on my arm is replaced with an even more powerful one around my throat. His fingertips push into my skin with a pressure so great I know I’m going to lose this war he’s inflicting.
My hands pull at his arms to stop his attack. “Dexter, stop,” I sob.
As if he wasn’t close enough, his nose touches mine as the rage continues. The force of his control causes the tension in my head to press against my temples as I fight. My nails claw at his skin. My body starts to give up the fight as my throat is constricted and stars form in my eyes, but all he does is scream at me like he’s oblivious to what he’s truly doing.
“You did this! You! Now you know what you can do, Blue, huh? Shall I tell you?”
“Yes.” My plea is so fragile, but I’ll do anything to make him stop.
“TAKE YOUR CARE. AND. FUCKING. GO!”
When he raises his fist, I slam my eyes shut, waiting for an agonizing blow just as I hear a roar.
“DEXTER, NO!”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Dexter
I'm slammed to the ground by a man with more strength than I've given him credit for and for a split second, everything stops as I try and work out what is happening before it all comes rushing back full force. My body is still raging to the point it feels like my blood is a burning volcano, and I try my hardest to get off the floor so I can smack the fucker that put me here. My nostrils flare, my jaw aches with the tight grip I have, and my body is so tense with the ferocity that’s rushing through me it’s unbearable.
I’m angry. I’m torn. I need a fucking drink.
"Get the fuck off me!"
"Not until you calm down."
I struggle to escape, but I’ve been overruled by Emmet’s power. I'm tossed onto my front, his knee in the base of my back and I'm cuffed. Fucking cuffed.
"Emmet. Get the fuck off!" I twist and jerk to try and free myself. "GET OFF ME!" I roar in a rage that has my throat stinging with my temper.
“You need to calm down, Dex.” His breathing is heavy. “I’ll let you go once you have.”
“You can’t do this to me! You’re not even in fucking uniform. Get them off.”
He ignores me.
“I’ve not even done anything!”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
The weight of him is lifted from me and as I lay on the floor, I hear the vibration of his boots walk away from me. When I hear him murmur her name and her cry registers in my thoughts, something inside of me freezes with panic. As I focus on the floorboards, the horror of what has happened starts to come back in a haze.
Oh, God.
“Talk to me, Pepper.”
I hear my friend say as she cries. “Tell me you’re okay?”
No. Please tell me I didn’t...
“Emmet!” I shout, now frantic and desperate to know what’s going on—desperate to look at Pepper but at the same time too afraid to move in case I find what I’m dreading.
I’ve hurt her.
“Emmet!” My heart pounds so hard I’m struggling to breathe. “What’s happening?”
Within seconds, he’s back on me, his hand gripping my arm. His stern voice is enough to know that this is bad and the thought of what I have done breaks another part of my heart that I’ve been so eager to heal.
"Look at her, Dexter."
I can't. I can't because her cry is already tearing me apart. The grip on my arm gets tighter. "Look. At. Her."
I turn my head and my raging blood runs cold, my breath catching in my throat when I find Pepper balled up on the floor. Her deep sobs are uncontrollable and her hands cover her face. I want to reach out to her, but I can't. I want to comfort her, but I can't. I want to tell her how sorry I am and ask her for the forgiveness I don’t deserve, but I can't.
I did this.
Me.
And I’ve ruined everything that was starting to feel good in my life because yet again I’ve been stuck in a past I can never run from. I don’t remember much; I just remember that I’d been dreaming of Tessa and felt something touch me. When I’d opened my eyes and all I’d heard was how much she cared, something inside of me had snapped and a rage I’ve not felt in a long time roared its way to the surface—one I’d been no longer able to contain.
Even though a part of me had known who was standing in front of me, I still hadn’t been able to rationalise it completely.
I’d seen faces from my past. They’d been telling me they cared. I’d seen Tessa—she’d been telling me to find her. I’d seen my mother with her eyes rolled back because she was high and she’d been telling me I’d be just like her. I’d seen people who never gave a shit about me.
But when I’d seen Pepper, all the rage I’d had for those others lurched out of me because all the beautiful woman was trying to do was look after me and that was wrong.