“What are you smiling about?” he asks, stopping.
“Thinking about you in leather pants. Mmmm,” I say and he gives me a confused look.
“I might be able to make that particular fantasy come true for you. If you’re a good girl.” I turn my head and give him a wink.
“But what if I’m a bad girl?”
“Then I’ll definitely make it happen.”
Twenty-Two
He doesn’t make the leather pants happen that night, but we do end up in bed together when we get back. I leave only to get the minimum amount of studying done and then it’s back to bed.
It’s the middle of the night and I have a marathon studying session to do the next day and Sylas is going to see Lizzy. I wish I could go, but I just can’t this weekend.
“Tell her I love her and I’m sorry I couldn’t be there,” I say for the millionth time. I’m so scared of disappointing my new sister and that she’s going to hate me and not want me to come back.
“I will. I promise. She’s not going to hate you, Saige,” he says, kissing my shoulder. We’re still naked, with me draped across his stomach, his fingers walking up and down my spine. My tattoo has finally healed and the colors have faded to the right shades. I absolutely love it and I still stop and stare any time I go by a mirror and catch it in the corner of my eye. I’m going to have to get some more dresses and shirts to show it off.
“I hope not. I’ve never had a sister, so I don’t know how this is supposed to work,” I say and he laughs at me.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. Worrying that Lizzy could hate you. It’s ludicrous. I’ve told you, she loves everyone, and you especially. There’s nothing you could do to make her hate you. Nothing.”
I’m not so sure about that, but I really, really want her to know that I would much rather hang out with her than study. Granted, I’d rather do almost anything than study at this point. My brain is so full of information, it feels stuffed and mushy.
“I don’t know what to do about Dad,” I say. I’ve turned my phone back on and there are a ton of messages from him begging me to come back and talk with him, to understand his position and so forth. I’ve ignored all of them, but I have the feeling if I don’t deal with him soon, he’s going to take matters into his own hands and show up here to talk to me.
“I can’t really give you any good advice,” he says.
I sigh.
“It’s okay. I just wish it wasn’t like this. I just want him to go back to being my Dad, the one I counted on. The one who did the right thing.” I run my finger down his forehead, across his nose, and down to his chin.
“But I guess he was never that guy. I just thought he was,” I say. “That’s the hardest thing. Knowing that the man I thought he was is a lie.”
“I’m so sorry he’s not the man you want him to be,” he says.
“And I’m sorry I’m whining about my dad issues with you since…” I trail off. I’m sure he doesn’t want to talk about his father right now.
“It’s okay, Saige. We can talk about him. I probably should talk about him. I haven’t for so many years and that didn’t turn out very well. I held so much inside and it hurt me. I have to bleed it out and let the wounds finally heal.” It’s a messy process and it’s not going to be easy. Both of us are dealing with wounds, only mine are fresh while his have been festering for his whole life.
“I’ll be your nurse if you’ll be mine,” I say.
“Deal.”
I resettle myself and hope that together we can heal and come out the other side intact.
Another night, another nightmare. This time when I wake, I know I’m definitely in the trunk of a car. I can see myself pulling the handle that’s inside to release it.
Sylas is there, holding me and helping me come out of the horror, wiping my tears and telling me it’s going to be okay.
“Did you remember anything this time?” I tell him and he rubs my back, even though I’m totally sweaty.
“When would you have been trapped in the trunk of a car?” he asks, and I don’t have an answer for him.
“I have no idea. I don’t know if it’s a memory or just something my brain has cooked up.” Deep down, I know it’s a memory. It’s far too clear and terrifying to be anything else.
“Maybe it was something that happened when you were young and you repressed it.” I’m not sure how I feel about that.
“Maybe,” I say. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to take a quick shower and rinse off.” He lets me go and doesn’t push further to make me remember.
I hold onto the memory in my head, focusing on my hand as I reach for the trunk release that glows in the dark. The hand. My hand.
It’s small. A child’s hand.
I shudder and that’s enough for tonight. I can’t do any more. I can’t. It’s too much. I turn on the water and step under the spray, making sure to keep my hair out of the way. I’d rather not go to bed with wet hair.
I wish I could wash the nightmare down the drain, but that’s just not possible.
Sylas has his arms open for me when I come back.
“If I could take it from you, I would,” he says.
“I know you would. But this is my nightmare to fight.”
I send Sylas off the next morning with a kiss and a box of cookies and some more DVDs for Lizzy. I wanted to bake them from scratch, but I didn’t have the time or energy. Next time.
My day is comprised of studying and studying and some more studying. I still have to do my final drawing. It’s due Thursday and I don’t even have an idea. It wouldn’t matter if I had a hundred years to do it, though.
Sylas gives me a call as I’m taking a mental break in the afternoon and I hear an excited screeching in the background.
“Someone wants to say hello,” he says, laughing.
“Hey, Lizzy!” I say.
“Sister!” she says and starts babbling away. She speaks so fast I can’t catch every word, but it doesn’t matter. I’m happy she’s not mad at me for missing the visit when I promised I would be there every week.
“Are you done with school yet?” she asks.
“Nope, not yet. But I’ll be done next week and then it will be summer and I can come and see you!” I still take classes during the summer, but not as many, so I’ll have more time to spend on other things.
“Cool, cool!” she says and I can’t help but laugh at how infectious her positivity is.
We chat for a few more minutes and then Sylas comes back on, telling me he’ll be back tonight. I tell him to take his time because I still have a ton of work to do and he’s very distracting.
I’m just switching from one textbook to another when there’s a knock at my door. I didn’t order food and Sylas is gone so I can narrow down the list of people it could potentially be. I look out the peephole and wish I could pretend I’m not home and not open the door, but that’s not going to happen.
I hit the deadbolt and remove the chain before I open the door.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hello, Ladybug.”
I want to roll my eyes at his use of the nickname. It’s not going to undo what happened yesterday.
“What do you want?” I ask, leaning against the door and not asking him if he wants to come in.
“Can we talk?” He looks even worse than he did yesterday. It’s clear he’s gotten no sleep. I sigh and move aside so he can come in.
“I guess,” I say, walking toward the couch and sitting down. He comes in and sits down on the chair across from me. I cross my arms and wait for him to speak. I’m hoping against hope that he’s here to tell me that he changed his mind.