Page 65 of Left In The Dark

He shakes his head, looking past me, completely deflated.

“What about a friend with a spare bedroom or couch?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

I bet he does. He always has so many people around him all the time. Not here, though. Here he only has me. He only needs me. I thought he was starting to understand that when he trusted me to get him clean and asked me to get him off in the bathtub. Then he tried to pull a fast one the minute I dozed off. I can’t let my guard down like that again. I can’t.

“Is it dinner time yet?” His eyes fall to his stomach, and that’s when the bottle of water clutched in his hand becomes more evident.

“Almost. I have to go make it.”

“What about the leftovers?”

“They’re in the fridge in the house. I can heat them up and you can eat your orange chicken while I eat something else.”

“Will you read to me afterwards? The story was getting interesting before I fell asleep.”

I smile. “Sure. Do you remember what part we were on before you passed out?”

His lips fold inward. “Kind of. You can show me the last two pages and I’m sure I’ll recognize it.”

“Sure. Or I can read the second chapter over again.”

He thinks for a beat and his blanket slides halfway down him. “Yeah, okay. That works too.”

“I’m going to go get our food. Did you want something to drink aside from water?”

His lips twist. “Diet Coke?”

“I don’t have any, but I need to put in a grocery order today and I’ll add it to the list. How about tea or Sprite?”

“Sprite.”

“You got it,” I quip and spin around.

I’m halfway down the ladder when he says, “What’s your name?”

My hands tighten around the wood. “Why do you need to know that?”

“It doesn’t need to be your real name. I . . . it would just be nice to have something to call you.”

I blow out a breath, racking my brain for a good answer. “How about T?” T is the first initial of my middle name, Tyler. It’s also my Dad’s first name.

“T,” he says, as if testing it on his lips.

“Yeah. T.”

“Is it too much to ask what it stands for?”

I bite back a laugh, rolling my eyes. “Yes. I’ll be back. Try to straighten out your area while I’m gone. It’s looking like a mess up here.” I carry on down the ladder and he doesn’t stop me from leaving again. I chain and lock the doors before going inside the house.

I can’t wait until the weekend so I can be here to watch for my dad, chasing him off before he can so much as touch the barn doors. Two more days. I don’t know if my mom will be back by then or not, and I can’t believe I’m thinking about what it would be like to read to Blake on the couch or listen to music with him while he’s cuffed to one of the chairs and I’m making dinner.

He can’t come inside again. At least not yet. Not until I’m sure he won’t try to run and is no longer thinking about being anywhere else but with me.

It’s only been two weeks and he’s already better here. He hasn’t shown an ounce of entitlement and hasn’t mentioned Hayden or his other friends once. I asked if he had anyone he could stay with when I let him go, and he said maybe without elaborating. He thinks I’m letting him go and that I plan to in time, but the more I think about it, the less ideal it sounds.

I like him here with me and how he is when it’s only us. He’s better behaved and mannered here. He doesn’t expect more than he’s earned and doesn’t ask for too much with his very modest requests. Blake could have asked for anything, but he only wanted books and music. I wasn’t expecting those answers from him, and since I wasn’t, I kept pushing to give him more.