Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2)

by Shana Vanterpool

  “Patty.”

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Oh, Hill. I’ve been so damn worried about you. Where are you?”

  “I’m at Harley’s house in Houston. They threw me a birthday party and a welcome home party for Dylan last night.”

  “Hmm. The Meyer boy?”

  Since she knew Bach as a child I could safely assume she knew Dylan as well. Her sharp, suspicious tone, however, hit my alarm bells. “Yes.”

  “Why would they throw you both a party at the same time?”

  I never tried to get one over on her before, but I was learning fairly quickly that it was impossible even if I wanted. “I don’t know. Harley planned it.”

  “We don’t need to be around men right now, Hillary.” Her tone was steel, the way it always was; within her anger was a refusal to be disobeyed. “In fact, that’s the last thing you need. I don’t have to work until tonight. I’m going to come get you. Give me the address.”

  I stared at the phone, surprised by the sudden rush of anger I felt. Dylan was the only thing I wanted. “I’m not even around him,” I lied. “He’s here to be with his daughter. Relax.”

  “He has a daughter?” The octave of her screech had risen.

  I flinched. “Yes. So?”

  “Address, Hill. The last thing you need right now is to be around some loser with a kid who he probably doesn’t even take care of.”

  I called her to feel loved, not to be berated and hear her judge the only person holding me together. “You don’t have to tell me what I need. I’m well aware of what I need right now.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I cringed. I wasn’t a ten-year-old asking to go to a sleepover. I was almost a nineteen-year-old woman. After that twenty, twenty-one; when would I be allowed to make my own choices?

  She snorted, as if my attempt at rebellion was cute and short-lived. “We’re not arguing about this. You have to come home. We need to meet with the DA, and you have to start thinking about school again. It’s almost been a month. If you miss any more school, you’re going to have to drop out. Classes won’t open again until next year …”

  As she talked I grew more and more fearful. Veterinarian degree? Zane? People staring at me like I wanted to be damaged? It wasn’t my fault! Classes I didn’t want? Guts and stomachs of animals I disliked? A future she planned to comfort her? DA’s that didn’t want to help me? Because in order to put a monster in jail that monster must destroy you? My breathing was so deep I sank to the floor and dropped the phone, shoving my head between my knees.

  “Hillary?”

  I looked up to find Whitney standing just inside the kitchen.

  “Hillary!” Mom’s voice screeched.

  “What’s your name?” Zane asked.

  “Hillary,” I stupidly supplied.

  “What do you want to be when you grow up?” Mom asked when I was a child. “Probably something safe. I’ve always thought being a veterinarian was special. That would be perfect for you.”

  My future was set in stone. College. Degree. Job. And animal dung. No love, no power, and no room to make my own choices—there was nothing I wanted.

  “Where’s my dad?” I asked Mom, four years old, watching Piper having a tickling fit at a picnic with hers. I wanted to giggle like that, to smile like that. I wanted that.

  “Some dads aren’t worth wasting your breath,” Mom mumbled. “Eat your food. I’m here. That’s all that matters.”

  “Hillary?” Whitney touched my hair.

  In a way she was right. Mom was there. I was thankful from the bottom of my heart because I knew what it felt like to be without one parent. But in another way, lying to me about being the spawn of a monster, about letting me love a man who destroyed my brother, was worse. What she should have said was this, “People make mistakes. Don’t want your dad. He doesn’t want you.”

  “Shh,” Whitney hushed. “Take deep breaths slowly. Pull from the bottom of your lungs.” Her arms were around me. “You have to breathe, sweetheart.”

  Instead of breathing I stopped. I covered my ears with my hands and stopped. “Come out, sweetheart.” Zane’s demonic voice had weaved its way into my brain.

  “She’ll be okay,” a deep, familiar, wonderful, comforting voice—the only voice I wanted—rumbled. “I’ll have her call you back.”

  My safe zone was there, my protection, the only man in the entire world who hadn’t hurt or left me. His dark blue eyes were hard and knowing. He’d changed too, getting rid of the mark I left on his shorts. I wanted that mark. That mark meant we’d been together, that I’d been in his arms safe. I bolted to my feet and wrapped my arms around him, inhaling his body. I was finally able to breathe. I heard a crutch hit the floor and then an arm came around me.

  “Go,” he ordered.

  “You sure?”

  “I’ve got her.”

  He had me.

  “Tell me where you are.”

  I held him harder. “With you.”

  “That’s right. And when you’re with me nothing can hurt you, can it?”

  I shook my head against him.

  I felt his lips on the top of my head. “Take a deep breath.” I did as he said, and once I had, he ordered me to take another. “One more. Good girl. Can we sit down?”

  The pain in his voice sparked an intense level of guilt. I released him and nodded, wiping my eyes. “I’m sorry,” I whispered bending to pick up his crutch. “There were too many thoughts. I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t mean to keep doing this.”

  “If you apologize for that one more time I’m going to snap. I thought we were honest with each other? I thought we were sharing this shit together?” His eyes burned.

  “We are.” My words were so low I barely heard them.

  “Then why aren’t you allowed to lose it? Lose it, baby. I don’t mind. I’ll be here every time.”

  “Do you promise?” I hoped my eyes portrayed what I really meant. Not just tomorrow, or next week, but every day after. I had this intense fear that Zane stole something from me, and if that were true, then this wouldn’t go away. Stolen pieces left painful gaps, and the empty spaces wept.

  He stared into my eyes intently. “Hill, what am I going to do later on? What am I going to do when you’re ready to leave me? Am I just supposed to be satisfied with losing this?” He motioned between us, indicating something deeper than either of us had acknowledged. “I lost it once. I can’t lose it again. You agreed. That’s what the rules are for.”

  “Promise me.” I grabbed hold of his waist, wanting to wrap myself around him once more. “I want it. You said whatever I wanted, I could have.”

  “Don’t look at me like that.” His glare was dark, but beneath that I could sense his fear. We were surrounded by that emotion. It was controlling us. The one place I felt an ounce of control was with this man. “Let’s go sit down.”

  I held him a moment longer before I conceded. After we were settled at the kitchen table, I pulled my seat as close to his as possible, so that our knees touched. I wanted to touch him. “I’m—”

  “Don’t say you’re sorry again. I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, voice breaking. “I want to go home and fade away, but then I have my daughter here, and she’s having the time of her life. And then I have you. It’s like I have one woman who gets it, who has no problem with me falling apart. And then I have my baby who doesn’t understand anything. All she wants is to be happy. I don’t want to leave her. I don’t want to let you go. I can’t look myself in the eye. I can’t—” He broke off, groaning in acute pain. “I need help. There. I said it. I can’t do this on my own.” His dark blue eyes, so cobalt they took my breath away, pleaded with me.

  I understood his pain. I felt stuck too. Stuck in my nightmares, in my future—I was stuck in everything I had been through and didn’t want. I didn’t know how to get out of it either. “What if we could help each other?”

  “How?”

  I shrugged, wanting on his lap. But this wasn’t that kin
d of moment. I didn’t think an orgasm would make either of us feel better. And truthfully, I wanted something more from him, something that went beyond the desire to forget. “I think you’re the only one who can help me. Do I help you?”

  “You’re the only one who does. Look at what I’m doing to you to have it? How can you still want to be around me? You don’t deserve some filthy bastard mauling your ass.”

  “If I didn’t want that why would I keep letting you do it?”

  “You don’t know what you want.”

  “This is my life. Don’t I get a say? Mom and Bach both tell me what to do, like they know what’s best for me. But I do too. I’m not a kid. I know what I want, and that’s to help you. I need help too, Dylan. I’m just as stuck. If we get any more stuck, we might never get free. I want to be free again.” I held my hand out, my fingers trembling. “Let’s help each other.”

  He stared at my hand. “Another deal?”

  “Yes. Another deal.”

  He ran his hand through his hair, grumbled, looked at me to stop this, and then grunted, giving me his hand. “Fine. Even though I can’t do anything for you.”

  I brought his hand to my lips and kissed the back of it. “You have no idea how special you are, do you?” I kissed his knuckles, his thumb; I kissed him all over.

  His frown was so heavy, so disbelieving, it broke my heart. When had anyone ever told Dylan he was special? Worth it? Important? He looked like I’d just told him I was part dinosaur. He pulled his hand free and looked away, as if he couldn’t stand to hear me say that to him.

  “Can I have on your lap now?”

  “No.”

  I got up anyway. “Please?”

  “Don’t come any closer.”

  I touched his knee. “Please, Dylan?” I pressed my forehead to his. This close up his eyes were midnight, the deepest darkest blue. Our eyelashes caught, gold and brown tangling together. His warm breath, smelling strongly of raspberries, caressed my lips. “You’ll be here every time, won’t you?” I sat on his left thigh, wrapping my arms around his waist.

  He sighed into my mouth, making my core tighten. “You don’t want me, Hill. Trust me. I’m the worst thing for you.” But his arms came around me, making me think he still wanted me despite his inability to have me.

  I shook my head, brushing my lips against his. They were so soft, rimmed in his stubble. I wanted to take his mouth, have his mouth take me. I wanted to be taken because I was drifting on my own. “So far you’re the best thing around.” I kissed him delicately.

  “I’ve done bad things.”

  I kissed the tear that trailed down the side of his face. “Still the best.”

  His breath caught and the pain that spilled out ripped me apart. “No,” he insisted. “I’ve done bad things.”

  I kissed his new tears. “What kind of things?”

  His hands dug into my skin, holding me so tightly it hurt. I had the feeling he was holding on to me for him; I endured the pain because he had done so for me. “The kinds of things you don’t want to know.” His eyes opened. They were raw, bleeding, pain cracking within their dark blue depths. “You know the worst part? I don’t want you to leave. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you. I want to make deal after deal with you, because when I’m with you, I’m not a piece of shit scumbag. I’m not a crappy father. I’m not a man with a broken leg. A man who got shot. I’ve been that man for so long. I don’t want to be him anymore.”

  I wrapped my arms around him and cradled his head, rocking us back and forth, letting his tears dampen my skin, holding him the way he’s held me. “Deal,” I whispered, kissing the space below his ear. I twisted my fingers in his hair and held on for dear life.

  Dylan thought he wasn’t worth it. I could sense his self-abhorrence, hear it in his words. He disliked himself. What if the bad things he thought defined him, were really just the bad things he’d never fought?

  “I’m supposed to be comforting you.”

  “You are.” I kissed him again. “Trust me, Dylan. You comfort me.”

  We stayed that way, wrapped around the other until our tears ebbed and our hearts stopped trying to beat us apart. His scent and warmth encompassed me.

  “What the hell’s going on?”

  My spine straightened at the sound of Bach’s enraged voice. Crap. When I tried to pull away, Dylan wouldn’t let me. “Let go.”

  “He should know.”

  “Know what? That my sister’s wrapped around you like this isn’t the first time?”

  Dylan’s arms increased their hold on me. “He should know that this sweet, beautiful girl is the only thing keeping me from losing my shit.”

  I expected a lot of things. Anger, shouting, and maybe even a fight. Instead, Bach sighed. I heard a chair move and then his body fall into it. “We’re all losing our shit, D.”

  I felt for the first time that Bach was actually my brother and not my boss. I settled against Dylan and inhaled the smell of his neck, his hair, wanting to be alone with him so I could make him forget. I didn’t have a plan, but I knew it would involve lots of kissing and possibly my tongue.

  “Your mom just called. Wants to know why her daughter is hanging out around the piece of shit Meyer boy. I’d like to know the same thing.”

  “Dylan makes me feel better.”

  His lips found my temple.

  All three of us were crumbling. Bach before I met him. Dylan probably too, but something was pushing him too far over the edge. And I had been breaking the moment I agreed to follow Zane upstairs. Three separate breaks were compounding into this silent damaging fracture. I didn’t think we had the luxury to crack further.

  “Aubrey’s waiting, D,” Bach said.

  At the mention of his daughter, Dylan took a deep breath, met my eyes briefly, and then nodded, hiding his cracks within his strength. I rose from his lap, took my own breath, and admitted I didn’t have that kind of strength.

  “Come with me?” he asked, struggling to get his crutches under his armpits. “The kids are getting riding lessons.”

  Horses? I scrunched up my nose and looked away. Horse crap, big teeth, and hooves that could crush me? Just what I wanted. “Oh, joy.”

  “You’re going to be a vet. You should be excited.” Bach slung his arm around me as we walked behind Dylan. “Couldn’t help yourself, could you, Sweets? Just had to have the best friend, didn’t you?”

  For the first time in days, I smiled. “You don’t sound mad.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Why?”

  “Because who am I to tell anyone they can’t want someone else? Plus,” his voice dropped so only I could hear. “He’s gone. You are too. Harley saved me.” He shrugged. “I’m not going to get in the way of your relationship if it helps either of you.”

  “We don’t have a relationship exactly. We’re not dating or anything if that’s what you mean. We’re just …” I didn’t know what we were. “He makes me feel safe. I just want to feel safe.”

  “Feel safe then. And if Dylan stops working I’m here.”

  I exhaled in relief. “Thank you.”

  He let me go so we could follow the path in the backyard that wound around the pool house. The dry expanse of land on the property swayed, pock-marked by the occasional green weed. The dry plants tickled my ankles as we stepped within the overgrowth. In the distance I could spot a stable and barn.

  “Just know one thing. You’re not like other girls. I know, because I’ve got one. When you’re ready to move on, take it easy on him. Some girls leave their mark.”

  Why did both of them think I would leave? I had never wanted to be in one place more than when I was around Dylan. Although, I had to consider if they were right. What if Dylan had a point? What would happen at the end of this strange connection? If he decided he was done forgetting, where would that leave me when my nightmares were unending? The thought sent me into a dark spiral. My attack from the kitchen returned full-force, sucking me down this toxic hol
e. Except this time, there were children around, and Dylan was giving Aubrey that look again.

  The Evans family had two saddled horses the color of cocoa. Harley’s cousins were in the middle of arguing which one would get to ride first while Aubrey chased a butterfly. There were blankets set out with coolers. Bach fell onto one and kissed Harley’s mouth so deeply I looked away. There was a lone blanket furthest from the horses. I chose that one, sitting down alone with my legs crossed.

  “Daddy!” Aubrey shouted, grinning at him in her adorable yellow sundress. Her hair had been put into a pony-tail, and her eyes were so much like Dylan’s it was unnerving. Except her eyes were pure, good orbs. Dylan’s were fused with pain. She pointed excitedly. “Horses.”

  “You’re not getting on them, are you?” He looked horrified by the idea.

  She paused, forgetting her butterfly. She stared up at her father with a frown in her brows. “Horses, Daddy.”

  “They’re dangerous, Aubrey,” Bach spoke up, giving her the same look Dylan was.

  Aubrey looked at Dylan and Bach, clearly unhappy. Harley looked away, hiding her smile. I had to admit the unhappiness on her face was adorable. She looked flabbergasted by these two men.

  “I’ll save you the trouble. No.” Bach glared at her, but I could tell he was fighting his lips.

  Aubrey did the same, trying not to laugh. She walked over to him and pressed her forehead against his, initiating a staring contest.

  “You really want to do this?” he asked, all serious.

  “Do it,” she said, hands on her little hips.

  “First one to laugh loses. I win you forget about the beast. You win you can take a ride. Do the honors, babe.”

  “On three,” Harley announced. “One … two … three!”

  “You’re going down, chump.”

  “What’s a chump?” she asked.

  “Daddy.”

  She glared harder, probably trying to hold her laugh in. “You’re not funny, Uncle Bach.”

  “You want to know something that is funny?”

  “Your face?”

  And just like that Bach lost. He tossed his head back and laughed at the sky, the most alive I’d ever seen him. “Brat. Fine. You win. But you’re not getting up on it alone. And before you ask, I’m not doing it. Mommy’s at work. Daddy can’t. And Harley’s wearing a skirt, so I guess you won this battle for no reason.” He gave her a fake pouty face.