I want him badly—there’s no denying that—yet I can’t have him. Not just because he’s part of the world I’ve been trying to escape, either. If it were that simple, life would be pretty uncomplicated.
No, the complications between us are endless, ranging from Evan forcing his way back into my life to my father being super controlling. Plus, I’m wary if I can even trust Ryler.
Still, I always find myself stealing a glance at him whenever I get the opportunity. What I wouldn’t give to be able to touch him again, kiss him, bask in his silence instead of fearing it. He makes it hard when he does stuff like bring his stereo up simply because I stated I wanted to listen to music while we work.
Tears start to sting at my eyes as I remember the night I went down to Ryler’s, right after Evan and I broke up over the phone. Every single breath, heartbeat, word exchanged felt magical. Light. Possibilities floated in the air like pixie dust. For once, my life seemed to be my own. But I was crazy to believe that would ever happen.
Crazy, crazy, crazy—the words are carved into my bones.
Around the fifth song, Ryler peers up at me from his writings. Our gazes collide and weld together, like they’ve done at least ten times tonight.
Dying, Dying, Dying. Feel how you pushing him away is killing you. You need to stop fighting what you want. I wish I could listen to my thoughts. Wish I could surrender to what my heart thinks it wants.
But the good girl I’ve been taught to be, the one I wish I could kill, keeps my lips sealed, and her attention focuses on the pages.
Slowly, dying.
Dying.
Dying.
Dying.
Dying self-tortuously.
Ten minutes later, Ryler unexpectedly kills the music. The record makes a scratching noise before the room grows completely quiet. I angle my head back and look up at him standing directly in front of me with his arms crossed, his muscles flexed.
“What’s wrong?” I rotate my wrist and check the time on my watch. Nine o’clock. Way earlier than he normally leaves. “Do you have to go somewhere?”
He sweeps fallen strands of his hair out of his eyes then signs, “We’re going somewhere.”
I frown. “Somewhere for my father?”
He shakes his head. “Actually, your father’s out of town for a business meeting all weekend, so hopefully, he won’t find out we went out tonight. In fact, he can’t know we left the house tonight. You have to agree to this before we go out. I need you to promise you’ll be able to keep it a secret from him.”
I don’t know why, but I absentmindedly touch the tip of my finger to the silver butterfly pendant bracelet around my wrist that my mother gave me. She made me promise to never take it off, which I haven’t. Keeping promises is one thing I’ve always been good at. Well, except for the pills I’m supposed to take. I haven’t touched those since I moved out, but I tell my mother the opposite every time she brings them up.
“Okay, I promise.” I rise to my feet. “Now, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He fishes his phone from his pocket, and his fingers tap the screen as he sends someone a text.
“Since when do you give me surprises?” I ask skeptically as I slip on my sandals.
“Since I remembered that I promised to give you a lot of firsts.”
When the phone beeps, he reads the message, stuffs the phone back into his pocket, and then offers me the sexiest lopsided grin I’ve ever seen.
“How do you know I haven’t done what we’re doing tonight?”
“I don’t know, but I have a hunch.”
“Do I,” I peer down at my cutoffs and tank top—definitely not the attire I normally wear when going outdoors, “need to change?”
He waves me off. “Nah. Where we’re going, you’ll fit right in.” He offers me his hand.
He’s being extremely sweet right now, and I find myself craving to lace my fingers through his. But then I remember how he’s been sweet since I first met him, yet has been working for my father the entire time, and my walls go right back up.
I need to protect myself, so instead of taking his hand, I fetch my wallet from the counter then wrap my arms around myself. “So, when do I get to find out where we’re going?”
My rejection causes him to frown. “When we get there. I want it to be a surprise.”
“That’s putting a lot of trust in you, isn’t it?”
“You don’t trust me?”
A small part of me does trust him; the part that remembers what it felt like to kiss him in his room, a kiss he allowed me to lead, something no one has ever let me do. But a bigger part of me remembers how he showed up on my doorstep with my father.
“I’m not sure,” I reply honestly.
He nods then opens the door and steps out into the stairway. I give one final glance over my shoulder toward the hallway where my brother Ellis is standing, nodding his head in approval.
I’ve been seeing Ellis more frequently as the pills slowly clear out of my system. My mind has become more sharpened, clearer, and I’ve dove head-on into a world full of what I think might be hallucinations. Despite the fact that I want to believe my parents wrongfully medicated me with pills for psychosis, it’s difficult to deny the truth when it’s standing in front of me in all its maddening form.
Like always, Ellis never gets close enough for me to reach out and see if he’s just an illusion. Illusion or not, he resembles the real him to the point that it’s almost painful; dark hair, the same eyes as me, tall, with pain continuously haunting his expression.
I want to speak to him—I usually do—but with Ryler here, watching my every move, it would be difficult to have a conversation with something that doesn’t really exist.
Go, Ellis mouths, motioning me to leave, just be careful. His gaze falls to my wrist. “And don’t let the butterfly out.”
The pendant on my arm suddenly feels as though it weighs a hundred pounds. I’m supposed to wear the piece of jewelry all the time, per my mother’s orders, but it seems imperative to remove it.
I lift my hand to examine the intricate metal, and the silver catches in the lighting above my head.
Blink.
Blink.
Blink.
They can see you.
My eyelids lift and open. The blinking has vanished, but an unsettling feeling still plagues me.
I need to take the bracelet off.
With trembling fingers, I unfasten the clamp, slip the bracelet off, and carefully place it on the coffee table. I massage my wrist, feeling as though I just removed a cuff, then exit out the door, joining Ryler in the stairway.
“You okay?” he signs as I lock up the door, concern written all over his face. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
With a jerk on the doorknob, I double-check that the door is secured. “No, I want to go.”
He nods, and then we descend the stairway toward the bottom floor. Strangely, without the bracelet on, my footsteps are lighter, the air fresher, my confidence higher. I’m glad I decided to take the piece of jewelry off and wish I would have done so a long time ago.
Yes, I’m breaking rules, but I feel as though I’ve somehow sprouted wings and am soaring on my own.
Don’t let the butterfly out indeed.
Chapter 3
A Dangerous Game
Ryler
As we make the twenty-minute drive toward the club the concert is taking place at, I debate whether taking Emery out was a stupid plan or a fucking brilliant one. Perhaps both. Regardless, what’s done is done. There’s no going back now, despite my fear. There are going to be some major repercussions if Doc catches us, since he’s given me strict orders not to let Emery out of her apartment at night unless he approves the trip.
Luke, Violet, Emery, and I are piled in my Dodge Challenger. Luke is driving since he’s a recovering alcoholic and always assigns himself as the designated driver. He offered to drive his truck, but it’s a single cab and has a
habit of breaking down at least once a week.
“Your car’s pretty badass,” he remarks, revving the gas at a stoplight.