Because I Can (Necklace Trilogy 2)

CHAPTER FOUR

The calm beneath the storm is locked in a fragile silence.

Dash and I don’t speak on the short ride to his apartment and not for a lack of words. I haven’t even asked him about the call with his sister, let alone, the ten other questions that come to my mind about Tyler, Allison, and of course, his fighting habit. But Dash knows we have to talk. Pushing him, and making that happen now, rather than later, could ultimately push him over the edge. And I’m not sure just how dangerous that edge might be, not after what I saw tonight.

Once we arrive at the apartment, Dash doesn’t pull us to the front of the building, but enters the private garage. I can’t help but wonder if that has something to do with his bruised and abused face or maybe it’s just how bruised the two of us are together. Dash parks in a private space, kills the engine, and when I’m planning to exit my side of the vehicle to meet him, he’s already there, opening my door and helping me to my feet. His eye is swollen now, so very swollen, and while I have no doubt his body is all about pain and punishment, both of which he’d welcomed, it’s my heart that hurts, and it hurts for him. Tyler isn’t wrong when he says Dash is punishing himself. And what kind of pain must Dash feel, to want to do this to himself?

“This is where you belong,” he says softly. “With me.”

My aching heart races with this declaration made more impactful by the fact that I saw behind the veil tonight. I know his secret or at least part of his secret, and he still wants me with him. I also know that he doesn’t share his secrets with anyone, not intentionally, not even me. But he’s also not running away. In other words, Dash is far braver than I have been in my life. He faces his problems, even if he does so in a self-destructive way. But is it really more self-destructive than running and hiding?

And I do run.

I ran away from him earlier. In truth, I’ve run away from a lot in my life, too much, it seems. But that ends now and with that decision, and despite the fact that deep down, I know that Dash will eventually leave me bleeding and heartbroken, every reservation I’d had about staying with him until I leave in January, falls away.

“I should never have left, Dash. I really, really wish I could turn back time and do this night over again.”

“You’re not the one who messed this night up. I am. It’s all on me.”

Tyler’s reference to Dash’s fighting habit since his brother’s death hits home in this moment. While I don’t know the details of that tragedy, in my core, I believe that Dash owning too much blame in his life is why he ever stepped into a fight ring. “We both made mistakes tonight,” I say. “I made mistakes tonight. I own those mistakes. Leaving was one of them.”

His fingers flex on my hips, his eyes flickering with some emotion that I cannot name but I can feel the tug between us, the bond, growing in that moment. He needs to know that I want to be here. And I believe, too, that he needs to know that I’m not judging him. I hope that’s what he now knows, but I’m going to drive home the point, every chance I am gifted.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he urges softly.

“Yes,” I agree. “Yes, please.”

Dash releases me and pops the trunk, removing my bags before we head to the elevator. Once we’re inside the main elevator, on the move, there’s this odd mix of comfort and discomfort between me and Dash that drives me nuts. I want us to be back to normal. I want this night to never have happened. But it did. Tyler ripped open the door to Dash’s torment tonight and welcomed me to step inside. Now, I’m there, living in a space Dash didn’t invite me to visit. And while he’s clearly not pushing me out of that space, we are in uncharted territory. We don’t know how to live together in this new reality.

At Dash’s door, he sets my bags down, unlocks the door, and then pushes it open, motioning me forward. It’s a gentlemanly act, allowing my early entry, but it’s more than that right now. Everything between me and Dash is a question that leads to another question. Do I really want to be here? Am I going to live here? He grabs my bags again and now that his hands are occupied, I step in front of him, hands on his chest, and lean into him. With his hard chest beneath my hands, I push to my toes and kiss him. It’s a fast kiss, but it’s all me. I instigate it, I make it happen, and I do so with a message that is about commitment, me to him. I’m not here because I have to be, it’s a choice and I choose here and him. A message I follow up by walking inside the apartment. And maybe, just maybe, if we can work it out, my apartment as well as his for a few short months.