Page 22 of Don’t Let Him In

Still probing at the tiny nail beside me, my attention flits to his chest, taking in the old splotches of what appear to be bloodstains. Time stands still. Anxious thoughts crowd in as I’m reminded of the way he so casually crushed an animal’s skull without a twitch of emotion.

Unease sweeps through me, but I manage to chalk it up to something reasonable. Convincing myself it’s normal to react the way he did. As odd as it was, it made sense. Especially for someone as familiar with pain and death as him.

“It’s hurt.”

“I’m helping it.”

He thought he was doing the right thing.

Eyeing me for a beat, his jaw hardens like he can tell what’s turning over in my head, as though he possesses the ability to peer deeper inside me and sift through my darkest thoughts. He’s quiet, saying nothing as his piercing gaze skates over every tick and tremor along my face, studying me in a deliberate manner that has me curling my fist tighter in the narrow space between us.

Eventually, he bobs his chin, eyes gleaming with something unreadable as they track to where tension thrums in my throat, holding there for what feels like an eternity. His prolonged stare sends a skittering charge of electricity coursing through me, cold sparks that sizzle and pop, pop, pop throughout my body in a messy riot of sensations. Mortified at my reaction, I squeeze my eyes shut, confusion swirling at the back of my mind.

I can’t understand what’s happening. Why I’m reacting so viscerally. Why his closeness stirs a vacant longing in me that desperately wants attention.

To be seen.

An unbidden tear slips from the corner of my eye, the prickling sensation growing there…and a bit lower. Shamefully, I dip my chin, trying to hide myself, but his hand comes up, fingers finding the underside of my jaw and guiding it back.

Slowly peeling my eyes open, I find him still watching me.

A shudder wracks up my spine. His carefully composed expression falters as his stare roams lower, tracing the grime and tear tracks, lingering.

Reaching up, he wipes another tear from my lash line, his thumb intercepting it before it can reach my lips, smoothing it away as my mouth trembles beneath his touch.

Something in me cinches, a keen awareness of our proximity, but it’s overshadowed by the harshness of the situation. My throat strains through a swallow as reality once again caves in on me. “It’s not fair,” I whisper, alarmed at how timid my voice sounds as I trap my lip against my teeth.

I’m not the one who cheated.

I’m not the one sneaking around out here in secret.

That’s Dax.

So why am I the one paying for it?

Why am I the one who had to…

Die.

The word sours in the pit of my stomach, and I harden before Manson brushes his thumb over my chin again, breaking the train of thought enough for me to ease up an inch.

“What isn’t?” he asks, waiting for me to respond, but my tongue goes limp. The words bloat in my throat, swelling with each attempt to force them out. “You aren’t wrong for wishing it was them instead,” he finally adds after a brief pause.

His remark should’ve repelled me. The cruel echo of it looping in my mind, uncovering the bitter truth I didn’t want to acknowledge.

My head pounds, a relentless drumbeat reminder of the injustice I’ve faced. Unwilling to fall deeper into despair, I ground myself by pouring all of my attention onto the soft-spoken stranger, keeping my gaze trained on the lighter blond flecks woven through his hair until they brighten my vision, distracting me from the growing ache threatening to pull me under.

Clinging to the comfort he offers, I’m startled when he suddenly leans closer, bridging what little distance remains between us. The air grows heavy. But the rest of me feels weightless as I pan back to his mysterious dark eyes, falling deeper into them.

Settling his forehead against mine, I sense an overwhelming knot forming in my stomach, but I keep still. Enjoying the solid coolness of his skin pressing into me as my eyes roll shut, focusing on nothing but his steadying presence and hoping it’s enough to ease the disquiet in me.

It feels so good to know I’m not alone.

That there’s someone else walking along this same path.

So whatever comes next, I’ll be more prepared. Better equipped.

That has to be enough.