A tear slipped from my eye, and I rolled my head back and pushed a palm down my face. The alcohol wasn’t helping, and Leigh was too fucking close for my liking.
“I’m taking you home,” she stood and attempted to pull me up along with her, “It’s getting late, and you shouldn’t drive like this.”
“I’m fine. I can walk back. It’s not far.”
“She’s right, mate. Let the girl take you back to the motel,” Travis agreed.
Could no one hear me?
The four of us walked to the car park, and before I knew it, I was inside the cabin of someone else’s vehicle as Leigh’s voice became a backdrop, asking questions, answering them herself, and going on about my poetry bringing the two of us together. I chuckled at her nonsense. Leigh was wrong. My poetry rested in the hands of a girl with a candid spirit and guarded heart.
“I feel like I’m talking too much,” she said through a sigh. Funny enough, I hadn’t been listening. Not really. Instead, my focus stayed out the passenger window, counting cars to make sure I didn’t pass out. The headlights and streetlights zoomed by, and I closed my eyes. I could pretend I was in a space shuttle on my way to the stars. Perhaps Mia was there, hanging between the sun and moon—the only threesome I’d fancy. “We’re here, anyway.”
Leigh made a turn into the motel lot, and it was odd she never did ask me where I was staying. Or perhaps she did, and I just didn’t hear. Either way, we made it, and the car came to a stop right in front of my motel room beside my station wagon. “Thanks,” I said, pulling the door handle.
I made it out of the car and in front of the door, clumsily searching for the motel key as Leigh walked up behind me. When I turned, a bottle of Hennessey magically appeared in her right hand, and she held it up at her side and shook it with a shy smile. “Thought maybe we could get to know each other a little better. What do ya say?”
“I say you have the wrong idea about me,” already drunk on alcohol, I hoped my point made it across without sounding like a world-class wanker, “I’m not looking for a quick smash. I’m engaged and in love with someone, happily.”
She considered my words for a moment, too long, and I felt my world spinning, maybe from the booze, so I went back to trying to get through the door with the key.
“I’m only here to talk, Oliver. Just a friend.” Her cold hand landed on mine, and she took the key from my fingers. “Let me at least get you inside.”
Quickly, I brainstormed every scenario, none of them ending in a way Mia would be proud of. I could let her inside, share a bottle of Hennessy, and exchange our favorite colors and explain what my tattoos mean. Eventually, she’d be too drunk to drive and would have to stay, and there was no room for her to sleep that wasn’t beside me, which was the best-case scenario. Every other ended in sex, and I refuse to have a girl take any part of me that didn’t belong to me in the first place.
That would be stealing.
The world spun with me as I turned to face her. “I have this. It’s late. You should be heading home. I appreciate the ride, truly,” I stretched out my palm for the key, “I’m sure you’re lovely, but I’m not allowing it to go any further than this.”
Three days had passedsince Ethan rescued me from the fire I’d caused. I’d wanted to burn down with it, to die in my sleep so I could be with the man in my dreams, Ollie, forever. But once again, Ethan had taken him away from me.
My plan to remain compliant backfired. I’d tried to run away, but what people never seemed to realize was you never had to run to escape from something. The man in my dreams had taught me that. Ollie continuously closed his eyes if he ever needed to escape from the cruel world around him, often bringing me there with him. Then I’d realized people ran away every day, getting lost in work, hobbies, habits, or in my case, my head.
The fire was my way of running away from Ethan.
It was the only way my complex brain understood how to run away.
Ethan and I had barely spoken since. He’d taken me to an abandoned apartment and locked me away in a room. The room seemed commercial, and nothing to announce it had been lived in or cared for in a while. The only window in this room had been boarded up, leaving me with no landmarks to look at to know where we were, not that I would’ve known anyway. The only place I was familiar with was Dolor since arriving in the UK.
The bed here was larger with burn holes in the mattress, and the ceiling was stained yellow above. It reeked of cigarette smoke, and I’d never seen Ethan smoke. I’d been tied to this chair, waiting patiently for Ethan to return.
It had been three days since I’d seen the sun, and I’d forgotten how it felt on my skin. I wondered if I’d ever see or feel it again, but if it burned my skin as the fire had, I never wanted to be in it. Perhaps I was better off inside.
I didn’t know what time it was, either.
Ethan pushed through the door with bags lining his arms, rain dripping from his hair and leather jacket, and he paused as soon as our eyes locked. “This is only temporary,” he said, reading my thoughts and looking at me as if I was a huge mistake. A regret. Did he regret saving me too?
He placed the bags over the dresser, and I tilted my head to see them filled with snacks for us to get through the evening. I snapped my head forward again as he walked toward me, crouched down between my thighs, and leaned forward to peel the tape from my mouth. “I’m not hungry,” I whispered low, and the muscles in his neck flexed in response.
Ethan lifted his head, and his face was within inches of mine. His eyes darted back and forth, and he dragged in a breath. “You need to eat,” he said slowly with a delicate sincerity in his eyes, the kind mixed with longing. I had to remind myself he’d forced me in this position, and my heart was with someone I’d clearly imagined—so entirely stupid. How did I fall in love with a person who wasn’t even real? How on earth did I give a fictional character my heart?
He stood, removed his leather jacket, and hung it on a hook beside the bedroom door before switching on the heater. “Listen, Mia. I know this past week hasn’t been easy, but you have to know I won’t let anything happen to you,” he turned to face me and placed a hand over his heart, “I’m not your enemy.”
“Then let me go.” It was easy to say, and I already knew the answer, but I didn’t want him to think I wanted to be here with him, that I liked being held against my will—just in case the fire wasn’t proof enough.
“You know I can’t do that.”
The tone in his voice sounded as if he was talking down to me. We were back to the big brother and little sister. Out of all the roles we’d played, brother and sister was the worst. I didn’t like being told what to do. I didn’t like being talked down to as if I didn’t know any better. “And why not?” I leaned forward, and the ties dug into my flesh, but I didn’t care anymore. “I wanted to die! You took that away from me. All I wanted was to be with him!”
