Page 161 of Bleed with Me

“Do you think I don’t know that?” I stared at him incredulously. “Why do you think I’m pissed? Because I’m not ready! Maybe I will never be! And that girl deserves a stable mother who will love and protect her, who will go to the mall with her, or play with dolls.” I blinked rapidly to clear the tears stinging my eyes, but it failed miserably. “I didn’t have any of that! I don’t know how to give love to a child… I never had any!”

I threw my arms helplessly in the air, tears streaming down my face.

“I didn’t play with toys because my mother bought drugs and alcohol instead. And with Grandpa? I shot targets instead of enjoying dollhouses and dresses and whatever the fuck girls play with!” I erased the distance between Lucas and me and leaned down so our eyes were on the same level. “I’m a fucking psychopath who commits crimes when things don’t go my way. I can’t be a mother.”

Lucas released a breath, completely unfazed by my outburst.

“You have a strong case here, love.” He pushed his glasses up his nose, leaning into the couch. “I’m here to defend your qualities, because clearly, you don’t see them. So, first,” he showed me his thumb, “You’re the most loyal person I know. And before you protest,” he raised his palm to stop me, “you really are. Your father should be the one singing odes. Second.” He lifted his index finger. “You don’t bullshit people. When you say something, it stands. And third,” he wagged his middle finger, “you destroy everything that stands in the path toward happiness for the people you care about.”

I groaned exasperatedly.

“You know I’m right.” He shrugged. “I remember you writing two tests so your classmate wasn’t punished for a bad grade.” I shook my head, embarrassment filling my chest. “Or when you gave money to the guy who couldn’t afford to eat so he could buy books as well as eat. Should I continue?”

He smiled at me.

“I remember you threatening the principal with your grandfather for a better recommendation letter for me. And,” he laughed, “I almost forgot my favorite.” He grinned. “You walked into the NYPD because a little boy you’d never met needed help.”

“Stop!” I yelled, hiding my face behind my palm. “That doesn’t count.”

“It counts.” Lucas stood up and walked toward me. “It proves you’re not an emotionless psychopath.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “You call the psychopath to action because you care. That’s a huge difference.”

“I hate you,” I mumbled through my fingers, another wave of tears attacking me. But this time, they weren’t angry, uncontainable tears that spilled from pure rage at myself. They were tears of gratitude for the person my best friend was.

“Yeah, I know.” Lucas kissed my temple, smiling. “I’m the best therapist, and defense lawyer, and everything you need.”

“Yes, you are.” I wiped my cheeks, inhaling deeply. “What would I do without you?”

“You’d spiral and push Dorian and the kid away because you’re afraid.”

“I’m not af—”

“You’re frightened, Nina.” He stood before me, resting his hands on my shoulders. “But you need to understand that motherhood isn’t about playing with dolls. It’s about not leaving.”

The words settled deep inside me, reaching the festering wound my mother had left behind. Could I really be better than her?

-64-

Nina

At two am, I decided it was time to return. Lucas patiently listened to me, objected to my words, and won almost every exchange because he naturally knew what to say to make everything look easy. But my situation truly wasn’t easy. Life was at stake. Not in the usual life-or-death way, but anyway. Dorian and his girl deserved the best. Yet I couldn’t offer them more than to try not to fuck up. That was painfully little.

“Are you sure driving during the storm is a good idea?” Lucas peeked behind the curtain when another lightning bolt cut through the dark sky.

“I love rain, remember?” I smiled, stealing a fistful of gummy bears from a bowl he tried to hide behind the speaker.

“I’m not so sure about the road loving it, though.” He grimaced as I stuffed my mouth and tapped the code onto the keypad to unlock the front door. “Drive safe and text me when you reach the house.”

“Yes, Daaad,” I drawled, kissing his cheek. “And thank you for tonight.”

“That’s what best friends are for, right?” He winked at me, his gaze following me outside the old building. I waved at him before pulling my jacket over my head and running to the car.

“Fuck, it’s cold.” I shook my hands to get the water off and pushed the ignition button. The first notes of Beethoven filled the car, pulling an involuntary smile from me. Dorian was a huge fan. I heard him playing the “Fifth Symphony” when he had no idea I was stalking him, and it was a magnificent performance.

Tapping my fingers against the steering wheel, mimicking playing “Für Elise”, I barely noticed a car following me. But when I took a sharp turn at the last moment, because I was so engrossed in memories of playing the piece years ago, and the black SUV did the same, I froze. Instinctively, my brain shifted focus from music to the vehicle in the rearview mirror.

Sheets of rain lashed the windshield as I accelerated, and the car sped behind me. I took a few sharp turns left and right, but I couldn’t shake it off. It was glued to my back. The words my grandpa drilled into me resurfaced while the tires squealed.

If you can’t run away, find a crowded place.