I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to get my anger under control. “Blackout wasted?” Ree had been high. Rejected and high. I’d pushed her away, left her all alone to fend off the darkness in a strange city. Fuck.
Synner nodded. “And, inexplicably, not interested,” he said. “Look, I don’t need to harass non-consenting pussy. I have enough willing women to keep me busy for all eternity.”
“He’s telling the truth,” Dash said, and I turned around to see that everyone else had gathered to watch our exchange. Great. “She just slept here. That’s all.” He took a step forward, nodding toward the front door. “We’re out of milk. Time to go to the store—you and me.”
What he really meant was, Time to chill the fuck out, Dare.
“Dash, we’ve got—” Indie began, but he cut her off with a stern look. “Fine,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “Whatever. Everyone can just do whatever the hell they want today.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I give up!”
Synner laughed and said something to her, but I couldn’t make out the words because Dash had grabbed my elbow and was already dragging me out of the apartment.
“Damn,” I muttered once we’d stepped onto the front porch, wrenching my arm from his tight grasp. “Now I know what it feels like to be a little brother. Painful as fuck.”
“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to yourself as my little brother.” He studied me, pressing his lips together as he gathered his thoughts. “Look, if I’d had any idea she was your Ree, I would’ve told you right away.”
“I know.” I gritted my teeth, feeling my wrath toward Synner dissipate. All I had left was anger at myself.
“Dare…” Dash’s voice was low, his words barely audible. “I don’t mean to preach, but you’re fucking this up.”
“I know.” I sat down on the top stair.
Dash settled down beside me and stretched his legs out in front of him. “But it’s not too late. I saw the way she looked at you.”
“Ree…” I sighed, unable to get the rest of the sentence out. My chest ached, my head pounded. I took a deep breath and glanced over at Dash. “…has a problem.”
He turned to look at me, his eyebrows knitting together at the look on my face. “A serious problem, I take it?”
“Pills,” I said. “She can’t function without them.”
“Ree’s an addict?” The word addict sounded so harsh and judgmental, even though there wasn’t a hint of either in his voice.
I swallowed hard, but didn’t respond. Saying yes would make it real, and I didn’t want to label her.
“Things are good when we’re together. She doesn’t use.”
Doubt filled Dash’s eyes. “Why do I sense a cosmic but coming up?”
“Because the moment her family enters the picture, her resolve shatters and she just…breaks. They OWN her, and they break her. Over and over again.” Anger and frustration raged through my body, and I rubbed at the tightness in my jaw. “And she always gives in to them. She never lets me help.”
“Is that what happened in Paris?”
I shook my head. “That’s what happened in New York three years ago, and I could see it coming again. This time I didn’t stick around to watch her bend to their will and then descend into the darkness that consumes her.” And now I was kicking myself for it. I should’ve been there for her. I should’ve been her light.
Instead, I chose to be an asshole.
Dash didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.
“I’ve been through this with my mom,” I said, feeling the tightness in my chest expand. “Ree might be using pharmaceuticals and not smack, but drugs are drugs. You and I both know that.” That was our joint family legacy. Thanks to our bastard father.
“We also know that it can be overcome.” Dash had done it. He’d kicked the habit for good. But my mom hadn’t gotten there yet.
My gut knotted. The mere thought that Ree could be like my mom and that I could be the cause of her downward spiral this time made me sick. It made me feel like my father—he’d always triggered my mom’s relapses. He would do something—cheat, beat us, get arrested, kill someone—and she’d start chasing that mind-numbing high again.
“Seeing Ree so broken, losing her over and over again…it fucking kills me.” My words were a hoarse whisper. “I can’t let her sink.”
“So don’t.” Dash placed a hand on my shoulder. “Help her. You’ve done it before. From everything Dalia has told me, your mom is only alive today because of you.”
I shook my head. “But I haven’t been able to fix her. My mom’s good for a while, but then falls apart again. I’m a fucking failure, Dash.”
He squeezed my shoulder. “You haven’t failed. Your mom has to want to get better. She has to do the work. Her slips are not your fault. There is only so much you can do.”
“What if I fail with Ree, too?” The idea was scary as hell. And also much too possible. “What if I can’t help her?”
“Just be there for her, Dare.”
“What if I’m not enough?”
He looked me straight in the eye. “You are. You already said she doesn’t use when you two are together. You’re enough, Dare. But you gotta stick with her. So stop fucking up.”
He smirked and smacked the back of my head. Just like I always did with Dax. The more time I spent with him, the more he really felt like my brother.
“I love her, Dash.” Stunned by my admission, I stared down at my hands, not quite believing what I’d just said. What the hell did I know about loving someone? My idea of love and family had been warped from day one. Sure, I loved my siblings, but that was different.
Ree, on the other hand, had blindsided me. She’d snuck her way into my mind and heart, and now refused to let go. Or maybe I wouldn’t let her go. She was my addiction, but there was no twelve-step program to scrub her out of my system. There was no detox to remove her from my heart. She’d somehow become a living part of me—she WAS my fucking heart. We were the same. One whole.
“I know.” Dash leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and looked down the street at the cars and people passing by. “But does she know that?”
Did she? We’d never said it to each other. Or, well, Ree had said it to me yesterday, but I’d totally ignored her words. I’d been too busy being an ass. Being my dad.
Fuck it all, I was not going to become like him.
“I haven’t told her,” I said, feeling like a Neanderthal. What had I been waiting for? Or maybe the better question was: why did three little words scare the shit out of me? That was ridiculous.
Of course, once upon a time, I’d sworn I’d never say those words to anyone because of what they’d done to my mom. Love ruined you. It made you weak. It made you need someone so much you couldn’t function without them. I’d vowed I would never put myself in that position, that I wouldn’t utter those words unless they were true…and that just wasn’t going to happen.
Ever.
My mom had laughed at the time—during one of her sober periods when she shined like sunlight on water and things were so fucking good at home. Back when it seemed like we’d be okay—the four of us, Dax, Dalia, me, and mom—when we felt like a real family.
She’d put her arm around my shoulders and said with laughter in her voice that I hadn’t heard since, “Oh, honey. You’ll say it one day because you love so fiercely. And when you fall in love with the right girl, you won’t be able to stop yourself. Trust me on this. It’ll happen.”
“Yeah right,” I’d said. “When pigs fly.”
She’d just shook her head and continued laughing. “You mark my words, Daren. You’ll meet her. And you’ll love her with all your heart.”
The kicker was…mom had been right.
“The Flying Pig,” Dash said suddenly.
“What?”
“That’s what she told the cab driver when I saw her off,” he said. “It’s a hostel downtown, not that far from your tattoo
parlor actually.”
“The Flying Pig.” The irony wasn’t lost on me, and I started to laugh. My mom would love that.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I shook my head. “I’ve got it,” I said as I rose to my feet. “I’ve got her.”
Finally, I really and truly did. I only hoped it wasn’t too late.
seven
The sharp sting of hot water beating down on me felt soothing as it washed away the grime of last night, the stink of my shame. I leaned my forehead against the cold, wet tile of the shower stall. Now if only it could wash away my sins, both real and imagined. I knew what Dare thought, and I had to find some way to get him to understand that nothing had happened.
I’d already lost everything else. Without him, I had nothing left to fight for.
I knew what I had to do. I’d go to the tattoo parlor and explain. He’d have to listen to me. He’d have to believe me. The truth was on my side. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
In most circumstances, the truth had value. It held importance and power. But in my experience—in my entire freaking life—it rarely mattered. Truth could be bought, words manipulated, promises broken. It could even be buried in the cold, hard earth. Or burned to ashes.
But Dare wasn’t from my world. The rules of the game were different here. Truth meant something in his world—the REAL world.
At least I hoped it did.
The water had cooled so I turned it off, standing in place for a moment as I listened to the others chatter from their shower stalls. The droplets running in rivulets down my body were swallowed up by the thin towel I wrapped around my chest. Staying at a hostel was a completely different experience for me. Communal showers, communal kitchen, communal almost everything. But it was cheaper than a hotel, and considering I had no idea how long I going to be here, it made no sense to look for an apartment.
At least I’d gotten a private room so I could get away from people when I wanted to.
Everyone was pretty nice at least—mostly college students and people in their twenties who were traveling through Europe for the summer—though the amount of partying going on downstairs in the bar was too reminiscent of my old life, of the old Reagan.
As tempting as it was to go join them and drink myself into oblivion after the morning I’d had, I was trying really hard to resist. I couldn’t go see Dare high or drunk. Not even tipsy. I had to show him I was willing to change if I was going to have any chance with him.
No matter how much I craved the escape of a pill right now, I craved Dare more.
I dried off, then slipped into a cool, white cotton sundress. My dark blonde hair hung long and wet down my back, and I squeezed the water out of it with the towel before combing it out. I didn’t bother with makeup, just picked up my bag of toiletries and headed back to my room.
As soon as I stepped out of the women’s bathroom, I glanced down the hall toward the front desk and froze.
His hands were thrust in his pockets, his hair a dark mess as he shifted his weight, his back to me. And I felt overwhelmed at his mere presence. Had he—
“Dare?”
He turned and looked at me as if I were the rain to his desert. Like he’d been searching for me his whole life and had finally found me.
But there was something else in his dark gaze, too. A sadness that ran deep. And I had no idea how to react, what he wanted of me, or what I could do to keep that amazing look on his face.
So I waited.
And hoped.
Dare didn’t say a word; he simply closed the distance between us, pulled me into his arms, crushing me to him, fusing our bodies together as if he couldn’t get close enough. I gasped at the intensity of his embrace, and matched it with my own.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered in my ear, breathing me in, squeezing me even tighter against his chest. “I am so sorry, Ree.”
His fingers threaded through my hair, and I wrapped my arms around his waist, locking us into each other. My entire body shuddered as I inhaled and slowly relaxed into him.
Oh, god. He’d come for me.
“I’m sorry, too,” I said into his shirt. “For everything. But nothing happened with that guy. I sw—”
“I know.” He pulled back and gently lifted my chin up so that my eyes met his. That look was still there—please god, let it never go away—and it took my breath away. His eyes trailed down to my lips and suddenly my whole body was on fire for him.
“I have a room upstairs.” The words came out in a hoarse whisper.
Dare nodded, weaving his fingers through mine, letting me lead the way.
As we climbed the stairs, I could feel his eyes burning through the thin material of my dress, heating me up from the inside, making my body come alive again like only he could. I opened my door and he followed me inside, shutting it behind us. The sound of the lock turning made my heart skip a beat.
“Ree…”
I was too afraid to turn around and face him, to say anything that might make him run. All of my hopes and dreams soared. Little optimistic idiots. Didn’t they know that Dare had the power to make them to crash and burn with a single word?
“Look at me, Ree.”
I shook my head ever so slightly, blinking back the tears that stung my eyes. I couldn’t fuck this up again. Whatever I said had to count. Dare had to know just how much I loved him. I had to make him forgive me, trust me, believe in me.
His footsteps were muffled by the carpet, but I heard him cross the cramped space. A rush of air hit my bare back as his hands gripped my shoulders. He turned me around, and my breath hitched at the overwhelming pain that splintered his eyes. Pain entwined with need and something so vivid, radiant, and powerful it nearly blinded me with its magnificence.
No one in the entire world had ever looked at me like that.
With love.
“Dare…I…” My heart squeezed as tears spilled onto my cheeks.
“Damn it, Ree.” He grabbed my face in his hands, claiming my mouth with such need and haste I felt it in every part of my body and mind. I parted my lips and let his tongue in as he moaned into me.
My pulse raced. Blood rushed into my brain, making my head spin.
I was dizzy with Dare. Dizzy with desire. Dizzy with love.
His mouth was everywhere—sucking at my jaw, my neck, my collarbones, licking the valley between my breasts as he pushed the top of my dress down in search of my nipples. He was insatiable, untamed.
My world exploded. Nothing made sense.
Yet everything felt right.
Dare’s hands fisted into my dress, pulling me closer. I clawed at his black t-shirt, tugging the material up over his head. He only let go of me to raise his arms, then his hands were back on me—in my hair, on my breasts, my waist, my thighs.
Demanding. Possessing. Owning.
Unable to contain my arousal, I cried out when his fingers dipped under my clothes, skimmed my soaked panties, and cupped my throbbing core. When he slipped them under the lace and stroked my folds, his thumb rubbing my clit, my hips bucked against his hand. Heat shot through me, unfurling every one of my deepest, darkest desires at once.
“God, you’re so fucking wet.” His voice was rough and gravelly and the unabashed need in his words made my heart beat harder. The throb between my thighs pulsed with need, aching with want for him and him alone.
He picked me up so that my back pressed against the wall, and I wrapped my legs firmly around his waist. Every single muscle on every part of his body—arms, chest, abs, legs—was so tight and stiff as if he was trying to restrain himself from crushing me completely.
And all I wanted to say was, Don’t. Please don’t hold back from me anymore.
He bit his way along my collarbone and up my neck to the tender spot where my pulse hammered. Liquid heat flooded my veins and the throbbing between my legs got so strong I was sure I would come at any moment. And when he thrust his fingers into me, I almost unraveled. I mo
aned his name over and over again to the rhythm of the hard, wild strokes inside me.
Dare’s eyes darkened perilously, and a low growl formed in his chest.
“You slay me, Ree,” he said as he delved even deeper, faster, his fingers moving in and out while his thumb circled my clit. “You fucking slay me every single time. And I let you. I always let you.”
The feeling was mutual.
He leaned forward and enveloped me with his body, his lips enclosing mine, his fingers curved inside me, coaxing me toward the edge as his other hand wrapped tightly around the back of my neck. My own hands couldn’t rest. They sought out his hair, clawed at his back, gripped his muscular biceps.
I needed more of him. All of him.
ONLY him.
“I let you,” Dare said, “because I love you.” His fingers hit a spot inside my body at the same time as those words connected with my soul.
I exploded without warning, his name a cry on my lips. The tension that had built up over the past few weeks left my body as the orgasm quaked through me.
He didn’t let me rest, didn’t allow me to respond. Before the spasms had even subsided and without releasing my lips, he tore open his jeans and filled me with his hard length. We moaned in unison at the contact, connecting on a primal, desperate level that transcended the physical.
“I fucking love you and I can’t help it.” His voice strained as he pumped his hips, the sentence vibrating through me, its meaning echoing in the depths of my soul. “I can’t stop. I don’t want to.” My breaths were reduced to ragged pants as bright white spots appeared behind my lids. I was soaring higher than ever before, my mind so full of his words and my body so full of him that I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began. “Jesus, Ree. What have you done to me?”
His thrusts grew more demanding, consuming my cries, draining me of sanity. My head connected with the wall, and I sank my teeth into his lip.
Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) Page 4