Lightning flashes and Naomi’s startled face lights up right in front of me. “Jesus! What the fuck?”
“Sorry! I was just…going to my room.”
We’re right outside Dani’s door and she pops it open, letting light spill over us. “What’s going on?”
Naomi opens her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it. “That’s what I want to know. Why are you out here creeping around in the dark?”
“I…couldn’t sleep. I was just watching the storm in the sunroom.”
“Did you ever hear of turning a fucking light on?”
“Ax…” Dani sighs, like I’m the one being unreasonable.
Naomi glances at Dani, aiming her words at her. “Sorry, I’m going to bed.”
Dani stares at me after Naomi’s door clicks shut, then grabs my arm and tugs me into her room. “I thought you wanted her back here.”
My arms fold over my chest. “Hatch needed her back here. I never wanted her.”
Dani perches on the edge of her bed. “Lie to yourself all you want, but I know you cared about her. You still do. That’s why you’re so pissed.”
“I’m pissed because she was a fucking fraud. And we don’t know what she was really up to.”
“Bullshit. You never would’ve brought her back here if you thought she was up to something. She lied to us and you have every right to be angry. You two had something, which makes it worse, and you’re hurt.”
For fuck’s sake. Can every woman in my life just see through me now?
“But you need to figure out whether you can get past it or not, Ax, because this isn’t healthy. For you or her, but especially for Caden. He’s not too young to notice how you talk to her. Do you want him to think it’s okay to treat women the way you’ve been treating her?”
I’m getting chewed out by my sister and damn if I don’t feel shame leak in to join the other roiling emotions I’m juggling. “Are you done?”
“No.” She stalks toward me and catches me off guard with a hug. “Also, I love you.”
It takes me a moment to respond, but I tighten my arms around her. “I love you too, Brat.”
“The worst is over, but the trial will be coming, plus your tour when we’ll all be traveling together again. We have to get our shit together.”
She’s not wrong.
After she heads to bed, I slip back out into the hall. A faint strip of light glows from under Naomi’s door. She must still be awake.
She startled me, coming out of that room, like she walked out of the storm and my thoughts. I brought Naomi back here for Hatch, but part of me wanted the chance to torture her, to make her feel the way I did the moment I found out that she was lying to me.
Maybe I’m just not sadistic enough because while it might be gratifying in the moment to spew all the rage onto her and watch her cower, it leaves me feeling empty and sick.
The way I felt around her before, the calm happiness she used to bring out of me now wars with the anger and pain of knowing I can’t trust her. Every thought of her, smiling up at me, lying in my bed, running her nails across my scalp as she came…they’re all tainted the second I remember.
One thing is clear. I cared too much. It’s almost like the universe intervened to make sure to put a stop to it. To remind me of the damage I’ve done in the past.
Exhaustion washes over me and going to bed suddenly doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though I still spend most of the night tossing and turning.
Breathes the World. They want that damn song on the album. This is the downside of writing I imagine all artists come face to face with eventually. If you write those moments into your work, the emotions come with them, and now I’ll have to sing about her over and over. With lyrics that aren’t exactly subtle, she’ll know what it’s about. Everyone else sure does, and I feel like an idiot.
It feels like I’ve just fallen asleep when my alarm screeches at me. Early studio session today. Ugh.
Coffee, that’s what I need. Naomi has the same thought because she’s pouring a cup of her nasty cold coffee when I enter the kitchen. I’m used to the cautious, guarded looks she usually throws me now, but this time she doesn’t seem to notice I’m in the room.
Placing the cup of coffee on the counter, she opens the cupboard and retrieves a package of cookies. As she picks up her snack, I reach over her shoulder for a mug from the shelf.
A sharp gasp is followed by the sound of the cup she was holding shattering on the floor. Wide eyes find my face and it seems to take her a moment to recognize me. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”
She squats down and starts picking up the shards of glass, babbling, “So sorry. Your arm. I just saw an arm and…thought it was going around my neck. Like…before. I’m sorry.”
“Naomi,” I snap, and she pauses to look up at me. God, she’s a wreck. Has she been this bad and I just didn’t notice in my own anger and confusion? Blood begins to drip from her finger. “Stop, you’ve cut yourself.”
I take her wrist and pull her up until she stands. There’s no argument when I steer her toward the sink and turn on the cold water. Gideon steps into the room. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re good. Just a broken glass. There’s a first aid kit in the guest bathroom.”
“I’ll get it.” He retreats and Naomi flinches a little when the water runs over her finger.
It’s not deep enough for stitches, but close. Naomi tries to pull her wrist out of my grip when Gideon returns and hands me the kit.
“I’m fine. Just needs a band aid,” she mumbles.
“Would you hold still for fuck’s sake and let me take care of it?”
“That stings.”
“Don’t be a baby.”
The sideways look she gives me triggers a sudden urge to bend her over the counter and fuck her good and hard. It’s a smart ass look I haven’t seen since she came back. The same one that often accompanied her sharp tongue and the attitude that drove me crazy. I haven’t seen that side of her I found so sexy since she started walking on eggshells around me.
Her gaze meets mine and I know she feels it too. Through all the anger and chaos, it’s still there. Call it chemistry or hormones or attraction, but whatever it is, it hasn’t died, not even close. It’s still struggling, tugging at the space we’ve put between us.
It’s everything I can do to pull my eyes away and return my focus to her hand. For such a little cut, it bleeds a lot, but I finally get it to stop and set the reddened piece of gauze aside while I coat the pad of the band-aid with antibiotic ointment.
“There was so much blood when I stuck that knife in his arm,” she murmurs, staring at the gauze. I’m not sure if she’s talking to me or just remarking to herself. “The way it slid in. I can’t forget that. It makes me feel sick.”
For the first time since I found out about Naomi’s relationship to Caden, I let myself think about what she went through that night. How terrifying it must’ve been to be standing in this very spot, at home, where you’re supposed to feel safe, and have an arm wrap around your neck. To hear gunshots a room away. Through that fear, she still managed to react, to stab him, to try to get away. And all the while she could hear Caden screaming, probably for her.