His pretty blue eyes were less attractive when they were digging me a grave on the spot. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
I pulled back, frowning. This wasn’t the greeting I played up in my mind, imagining him being just as excited to see me again after the way he watched me in the coffee shop. I should’ve known he wasn’t actually looking atme. I couldn’t even bring myself to say anything, the words stuck to my tongue like glue.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he muttered. “Do you have a fucking death wish?”
“Excuse me?” I licked my lips, shocked to be spoken to this way. “I saw you in the café yesterday. The barista told me where to find you.”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course she did. Still doesn’t explain why you’re here. You should leave now, if you know what’s good for you.”
I never took kindly to being told what Ishoulddo. I preferred to let my anxiety control me. Winder’s short, know-it-all tone was rubbing me the wrong way. “I saw you selling drugs. I need something to help me sleep.”
For a moment, Winder seemed to process the information. He blinked. “Sleep?”
“Yes,” I huffed. “You know that thing you do when you go to bed at night, and your eyes close, and you wake up refreshed? I’m kind of struggling with it at the moment.” I pointed to my eyes, at the dark circles I knew were visible beneath them.
Winder ran his thumb along his lip, and his sleeve slipped higher, displaying more of the intense snake tattoo on his arm. I wanted to trace it and see how far it went. “You think you’re not sleeping.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, and it made me feel two inches tall. So far, Winder was the worst kind of therapist I’d dealt with, a pretty face with a rotten mouth. “I don’tthinkI’m not sleeping. IknowI’m not sleeping. Truth be told, I’m having a horrible recurring nightmare that’s messing up my REM. I need something that will knock me out. I was told you could help me, but I’m beginning to doubt it.”
“You should go back to your doctor. Ask him for some sleeping pills.” Winder shook his head. “I can’t help you. And youreallyshouldn’t be here.”
“You keep saying that. But Iamhere. And I’ve tried sleeping pills. They don’t work. Nothing works.” I couldn’t stop the desperation from slipping into my voice, the days and weeks of exhaustion compiling into my current monologue to Winder, who had somehow become my last hope.
He gave me the same funny look, the one in the café that made me feel like he saw right through me, and opened his mouth to say something. The thought shot through my head again—he knew me. Before he could speak, he closed his mouth again. He stayed quiet for a minute, and when he spoke again, his voice betrayed no emotion.
“I can’t help you. If you’re looking for relief, you’ve come to the wrong place. You’re better off heading back to your part of the city. There are people here who would love to take advantage of a girl like you.”
I rolled my eyes, irritated I had come all this way to be brushed off like a speck of dirt. Why were the good-looking ones always jerks? “Like your friend on the porch who wanted me to sit on his lap? I think I can handle myself.”
I wasn't sure where this confidence came from, but I wasn’t about to complain. Power rushed through me, an addiction I had only felt once before.
Winder glared, his bright gaze darkening. “I’ll deal with him.”
“Oh, you won’t sell me drugs, but you’re going to act like my savior? How sweet of you.” I turned to storm my way back to work, even though I was already ridiculously late, and would be even more late by the time I made it back.
Winder again grabbed my wrist before I made it far. His touch was hot on my skin. He might have been a condescending jerk, but something in me still wanted to be near him.
“What?” I snapped. “Do you have something that will help me sleep, or do you want to continue pretending to be my hero?”
He smirked, and I hated how I felt it in my core. “Baby, I’m the furthest thing from a hero. But right now, I’m the only thing you’ve got.”
I cocked my head, his words settling silently into the air around me. If I believed in the truth, maybe I would’ve believed him.
If I was perfect, maybe I would’ve thanked him.
Instead, I shook my head and pulled my wrist out of his grasp, still tingling with his touch, and walked away without turning back. I didn’t need a hero. The only thing I needed protection from was my traitorous brain.
If Winder wouldn’t help me, then I’d figure out how to help myself.
Chapter
Seven
WINDER
Fuck her and her pretty fucking face.
Chapter
