“Yeah?”
“Why is this happening to me?” Her eyes brimmed with tears she refused to spill.
I ran my thumb along my lip. “I wish I knew.”
Blaire nodded, rubbing her eyes. “Fuck, look at me. I’m sorry. You don’t need to see this. I just need to get some sleep and I’ll be fine.”
I could have called her out on her bullshit. I could have climbed into bed with her, held her body against mine until she stopped trembling, until she had no tears left to cry. I could have stroked her hair, whispering all the words I wanted to reassure her with.
I could have. But I didn’t.
I tapped the doorknob. “Lock this after I leave.”
“Night, Winder.” She got to her feet, following me to the door.
“Night, Blaire.” I closed the door behind me, waiting until I heard the click of the lock before I collapsed to the floor.
A party raged in the living room in front of me, people smoking and drinking and doing God knew what to make them feel alive. And I had just experienced a high like never before simply from being in the same room as her.
Blaire Fucking Barlowe.
I knocked my head back against the door, trying to convince myself that my hands weren’t trembling, and my heart wasn’t pounding a rhythm I could’ve marched to. What a fucking mess I had wound up in. If I hadn’t quit years ago, I would’ve been looking for something to stop my racing mind right then.
Could’ve. Should’ve. Would’ve. It was a game I played with myself.
So, I told her what she needed to know. I told her just enough to get her off my case, but not enough to get her killed—yet.
Honesty was such a fine line, and the morals of lying were at opposite ends. Don’t keep secrets. But don’t tell people things that will put them in danger either.
Unfortunately, the full truth, the one stuck to the tip of my tongue, was both. A secret from Blaire, because she obviouslydidn’t remember me, and a truth that would put her in even more danger than she was already in.
I did know Blaire from parties. She had popped up on the scene recently, and I would’ve recognized her anywhere. Because when I told her we’d known each other a long time, that was the truth.
The dangerous part of the truth was something that hit closer to home, because when I knew Blaire, she was off-limits.
After all, you weren’t supposed to lust after your brother’s girlfriend.
Chapter
Eleven
BLAIRE
For once, I could tell this was a dream.
The edges were fuzzy, like an instant photo that hadn’t quite developed fully. Even so, I didn’t think I could wake myself up.
A dream.
It was only a dream.
I wasn’t in control. I looked down at my hands, dripping with blood.
It was only a dream.
Was it mine or someone else’s? I found myself taking inventory, distancing myself from the situation. The blood spread across the trashed living room. A breeze blew in through a broken window, rustling thin curtains in the night air. My knees hurt, but I was trapped inside my body, unable to look down to examine them.
The dream was in control, steering me to where it wanted me to go.
