And with the shake of his head, the dream crumbles.
I hide the hurt his gesture causes. It’s soul crushing. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. With Mom out of the picture, and the attempts on my life, I’m sure he thinks thisis best. But I just feel like a kid told they’ll never grow up to be good enough. I don’t know why. I can’t define it. I just feel it. I won’t voice it. I’ll eat my emotions, and my breakfast, and just ignore the hole growing inside me that might never be filled. Because that’s what this is. His denial for me, his only daughter, to join in is a strike to the heart. A parasite that just eats from the inside out till I wonder if one day I’ll have a heart left at all.
“You still having those nightmares?”
His question isn’t about finding an easier topic. And I just give him a noncommittal shrug.
“Heard you last night.”
“If you heard me, then why ask?” There’s a bit of sass in my voice, but if he hears it, he ignores it. He might think it’s because he turned down my lifelong dream. But this isn’t a subject I want to discuss either.
Ever since the night I was attacked on campus, I’ve had nightmares. They got worse after Bailey was actually kidnapped and the shit that went down with her and the others who were to be sold into a sex trafficking ring.
They tell me that the person who was behind all of it is dead. That he died in a fire. Bass even told me he saw the police report and everything to confirm that Duke, the Devils Damned VP, is dead and gone. Everything points to my life being able to move on. But I still get the nightmares. Not every night, but enough that Dad and Nat know I have them. It’s been a while since the campus incident, and I still can’t shake it. It’s like a bogeyman takes over my brain twice a week, sometimes more.
At first, I thought it was just the initial trauma. But over time, I’ve wondered if it has something to do with showsI watch, games I play. Even the food I eat before bed. Nothing seems to be the key reason for when a dream will come.
The only thing I’ve figured out is when oneisn’tgoing to happen. And that’s if I see Kooper. Weird, right? Must be because he was there to get me out of that situation. Just my brain recognizing that the threat is gone because Kooper is still around. Or something like that.
I try not to overthink it. But when I go to the club today, besides meeting Milly, I need to get some eyes on Kooper. Just because I have a test tomorrow and need the sleep. No other reason.
“Just want to make sure everything’s all right, honey.” He reaches out and takes my hand, running his fingers along my knuckles in support.
“You said he was dead. Everyone says that. It’s just going to take some time, I guess.”
He grips my hand and smiles. “We’ll get through it together. No matter how long it takes.”
I give him a small smile, but my heart isn’t in it. I love how he supports me, but I still feel like I’ll never get his full support. Not in everything. Not with what I really want.
“I’m going to sit inside. The dust is killing my eyes today. Let me know when Abigail shows,” I say to Natalie as I leave her on the bench at the back of the club. She’s soaking in the rays with her eyes shut, but she nods at my words.
I get it. We’re inside so much with classes, it seems like a treat to just sit in the sun and bask in its glory. If we were cats, we would be purring right now.
When I get inside, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the dimness before I spot a familiar face and make my way over to her table.
“Well, aren’t you becoming a regular.” I sit in the chair across from Milly as she rolls her eyes.
“Don’t get all attached. I’m busting out of here soon.”
“That right? You got help, or you need a lookout?” I grin and give her a wink.
“Thanks for the offer, but family’s coming in.” I raise my eyebrow at her words, and she clarifies. “Don’t get your panties in a twist. Your pops was the one who called him, apparently. It’s all sanctioned.”
“Thank God. I can’t deal with any more ‘overprotective daddy’ moments. Guy’s finally been letting the leash out a bit, and I’m not about to get thrown back into the doghouse just when I get some fresh air.”
She barely controls her laugh. “That bad?”
You have no idea.
“Ugh, it’s the worst. When Mom was around, I had a buffer, you know? Even after cancer took her, he was still reasonable, willing to talk through things. Then things took some turns with the club, got a few enemies, got a bump or two on my head, and bam! Suddenly, I’m five years old and can’t cross the street without someone holding my hand.”
I rifle through my bag till I find what I need and take my contacts out. Her expression of disgust as I play with myeyeball has me apologizing. “Sorry, but my eyes are killing me. These summer minicourses are great to get in some extra credits, but they force you to take a four-month course in like a week. My eyes are on fire from all the studying I’ve been doing.” The dust outside isn’t helping either. When my eyes are already agitated, the dusty air just makes them ten times itchier.
After another rummage in my bag, I pull out my glasses, and she bursts out laughing.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Yankee-Doodle. I’ve worn these maybe three times in my life. I hate them. I look like such a nerd.”
“A hot nerd.”
