But if he were facing my way, would I know who it was? Could I tell them apart? My brain feels like that old commercial with the fried egg in the pan. Am I awake or is this a dream? Maybe this is a nightmare, and Mr. Scott is tied up in the closet? I wish I could say the plausibility of that happening is ridiculous but after everything that’s happened, it isn’t. I let out a small breath and swallow my nerves.
“Hey.” It’s simple and sounds pathetic to my own ears but it’s all I can muster with my heart galloping as it is. He doesn’t turn around but motions his head as if to say come beside him. Before I move, I scrutinize the man in front of me—his posture, his breathing, the way he is dressed—anything for a clue as to who he is. The fact that he’s not paralyzed to the bed is a good thing, I hope. I remind my legs that their purpose is to carry my weight because for a moment it’s as if they’ve forgotten. After what seems like a mile, I stand beside him resting my own weight on the island. For a moment I’m scared to look at him, afraid to see who is or isn’t standing next to me. Whoever it is still causes my heart to speed up, still makes me light-headed, and when he moves behind me and I feel his skin against mine, it still makes me breathless. His fingers run up my thighs and I know this is Cal. Cal is here with me. No one’s touch makes me feel like this.
His hands slide up and across my stomach instead of between my legs, and his lips make their way to the crook of my neck. He rests his head there and squeezes me tightly. I’m feeling unsure, but it doesn’t stop me from crossing my arms across my body to hold on to him. When I feel his body starting to tremble and his grip lessens on me, I turn and see tears coming from his eyes. I grab onto him and hold him—his weight almost pulling me down—but I use all of my strength to hold him up as his cries shake us both.
“I’m so sorry baby,” he painfully says, his sorrow rocking us both.
“Please don’t apologize,” I tell him as we sink to the floor. I climb on top of him and cradle his head against me, as he keeps repeating how sorry he is. I rub his back and hold him as close as I can.
“We’re going to be okay. I promise you.” I can feel his sorrow, his pain, his regret, and his helplessness. I’ve never seen him like this. He’s never shown me any weakness, but I’m so grateful that he is finally opening up to me instead of running—instead of hiding it. I vow to myself for every moment he’s weak that I will be strong. The thoughts I had earlier of not being able to handle this, of being afraid, are gone. He’s always been my strength, and it’s time for me to be his. We will get through this. I’ve always wanted him to be my Prince Charming, but today—if it has to be every day from this day forward—I’ll be his superhero.
Chapter 20
Chris
Something’s happened. I can feel it. The residue of lost time is all over me. My mind is hazy as things come into focus, and my thoughts are no longer crashing into one another. It’s been so long since I lost control like this and no matter how long I’m gone; I know it’s been awhile because my brain always feels fried when I come back. I look around and realize I’m not home, not in Michigan at least—but in Chicago. I remember this bathroom from the last time I was here. What’s the last thing I remember? I was at home, in my mom’s kitchen, and Aidan and Lauren were there. They were angry. I sit on the side of the tub, and my heart starts to speed up as I remember Lisa. Lisa telling me… she had been screwing my dad! I told my mom, and I told everyone else too because they all had to know. I swallow the anger, the regret, and the disbelief that’s radiating through me and mixing all together. Lisa has a kid! A kid with my dad! Queasiness floods my stomach as the room starts to spin.
“Focus, focus!” I yell at myself. Cal must have taken over at that point. How long was he in control, and what the hell has he done? My head is throbbing, blood coursing through my body like a floodgate has been opened.
“Are you okay?” my heart skips a beat as I hear Lauren’s quiet and timid voice. I realize I don’t have a watch on and my phone is absent. I have no idea what day or date it is.
“Cal?” She calls again, and his name causes tears to sting my eyes. I’m lost again. I have no clue of what has been going on, and for me to be back, it must mean that something is really screwed up. What could be worse than me finding out my dad has been screwing my best friend? My pulse is off the charts, and I panic even more not knowing how long it has been. That thought alone terrifies me. I open the door, and she’s here. I’m surprised every time I recover from these lapses that she’s still here. She’s not dealing with just one guy who’s pretty screwed up but two, yet she’s still here. Wearing a tentative smile, her eyes wide and hopeful but it has to be a mask, right? Who could be happy in the midst of this? Her smile’s got to be a Band-Aid over whatever disaster that’s just happened. Even though I’m not sure if it’s real, seeing her smile and hopeful hazel eyes calm me in the midst of the uncertainty. Her eyes dart over me, searching my face and she swallows as recognition crosses her face.
“Chris?” Her voice is shaky but lighter; her eyes squint at me as she tentatively approaches me. My face cracks with a pitiful smile. I can’t even manage to speak. I’m pathetic and embarrassed. She lets out a breath and wraps her slender arms around me. Her energy and warmth envelop me more than you’d think someone as small as she is should.
“Is everyone ok?” I ask her after clearing my throat. I watch her nod, and she rests her head on my chest. I can feel her heart thudding against my chest.
“Everyone is alive and well,” she says as upbeat as she can. She leans back and looks at me with warm but sad eyes.
“What do you remember?” Her bottom lip is clasped between her teeth. I let go of her and let out a deep sigh. Before I can say any more, she takes my hand leading me down the stairs and into the kitchen area. I sit down at the table and look around for signs of Caylen, but there isn’t any.
“Caylen is with your mother,” she responds as if she’s reading my mind. She sets a glass of water down in front of me and sits beside me with her own. Our eyes lock, almost asking each other to reveal things before they’ve been said. She takes my hand into her lap and squeezes mine. I decide to bite the bullet.
“How long have I been gone?” I mentally prepare myself to hear the answer. Her eyes lower to my chest, and I know the answer isn’t going to be one I’ll want to hear.
“As far as I know… about a month,” she mutters quietly.
“A month!” I listen in shocked disbelief while gripping the glass tightly in between my hands. I take deep breaths and glance at the ceiling. It’s like I’ve regressed back three years.
“Has Cal been in control this entire time?” I ask nervously, wondering if he’s had a chance to follow through with finding our dad, and has… no, Dexter wouldn’t let that happen. It’s the entire reason I agree to let his people follow me. My eyes land back on Lauren and now her entire lip is crushed between her teeth, and she’s gripping her wrist, which I know she does when she’s nervous.
“What… tell me, what did he do?”