Damage Me (Crystal Gulf Book 2)

by Shana Vanterpool

  “I’m your brother. What am I supposed to do?” He forced us to a stop in the living room. “Let me take you home.”

  “No. The only person I want right now is him.” And that he might not want me was a dark snarl whispered in the back of my thoughts.

  “Your mom is losing her shit.”

  “Well so am I! Just leave, Bach. Like you always do! Just like my dad. Just like Dylan wants to. You’re all selfish assholes. Like what do I have to do get one of you to love me? Be like you? Be mean and selfish? Do I have to be an asshole too?” I shoved him harder, losing my grip so fast I couldn’t be sure I’d ever regain it. “I should leave you all. I should leave everyone and just be by myself. I’ll never leave me. I’ll never hurt myself!”

  For what it was worth he didn’t deny it. His eyes were grave as he stared at me. “You have responsibilities. I’m sorry they’re yours, but they are. If I could do it for you, I would. I’d make it so you never had to face Zane again, or anyone else. But hiding out here won’t make it easier on you. All of those things are waiting. You’re hiding, Sweets, we all are, but I keep getting this feeling that we can’t hide anymore.”

  I fell against my brother. These tears weren’t because he was right. They were because I knew it. Home scared me. Everything I’d left was waiting for me. Zane, school, Mom, and the future she picked out. I wasn’t ready for these things. Around Dylan I had clung to the escape he offered, avoiding what I ran from. It might be time to stop running, to face the girl I left in Zane’s bedroom and stop blaming her—to protect her. I had to save that girl from her mistakes, or I might never free either of us.

  I wanted to be free.

  Most of all I wanted to free her.

  “I’m scared.”

  “That’s all right. I have things I’m scared of too. Things I probably always will. We just have to be stronger than it when it likes to tell us we’re not.” And then, “Dylan has to do the same thing. He’s never going to stop pushing you away. Trust me. Harley has to remind me every single day not to run.” He released me with a shake of his head. “Can I take you home?”

  Panic attacked me. I wasn’t like Harley. I didn’t have any idea how to get what I wanted. I never had a boyfriend. I didn’t know how to handle men. I probably never would. Part of why I liked Dylan so much was because he knew what he wanted from me long before I let him have it. I’d never stopped and thought about what I wanted from a man and expected him to deliver. I could imagine how empowering that would be. Even considering it put a sense of calm through me. I would go home, but I would see Dylan again as well because that’s what I wanted.

  “Yes. I’ll get Dylan’s crutches and then we can go.”

  “Harley and I will be in the truck.” He bent to kiss my hair before shuffling off.

  I gathered Dylan’s crutches and then returned to the room. His spark of relief was aimed at his crutches. Not me. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

  “I care about you, Dylan.”

  “Stop.”

  “Just tell me. Do you want me to leave?”

  He met my eyes in a flash. “Of course not. I never want you to leave. That’s why you have to go. Look at my daughter, Hillary. Did you hear the things she asked me? I can’t put that shit on you. I can’t even walk. How can I be the kind of man you want when I can’t even be one I want first?”

  “I didn’t know I wanted a man until you.”

  His face broke. He struggled to his feet, growling as he did so. “Go home.”

  “I’m afraid that if I leave this house, we won’t see each other again.” I stepped toward him.

  He moved away just as fast. “That’s what’s best for you.”

  What did he dream? He looked wild and afraid. I could almost smell his fear. “I have to see you again. I want to sit on your lap when I need to feel safe. You pull me out of the darkness every time. I rely on you.”

  “Yeah well you shouldn’t have!” he snapped. “I never asked you too. I never told you to find me safe! I warned you. I told you over and over again to get away from me. I’m not safe. You attached yourself to me. Not the other way around. I never wanted you. Now look. Look at what I’m doing to you.” His anger dissipated into sadness. “Look at how you’re looking at me. Hillary.” He reached for me. “I’m sorry.”

  It was my turn to step away. “You never wanted me?”

  A feeling I had never felt before began to move over me. It was worse than dark. It was dirty. It was the only safe place in my world imploding.

  “You came into my life. Not the other way around. I was fine in my shitty beach house by myself. I begged you to stop this. I warned you what would happen. I can’t let this keep going. Look at us.” He waved his crutch around. “We were just two fucked up people who found someone to be fucked up with.” His eyes flashed and pain burned in them, dark, blue fire. “You be fucked up on your own. I’m enough for myself. I have a kid to worry about. I can’t protect you both. I can’t lose you too—” He kept going, stringing illegible thoughts together. “Blood, I tried, I didn’t have a choice, not my good girl too …”

  He didn’t have to keep going. I wasn’t listening anyway. All I heard was, “You came into my life. Not the other way around.” I was a disturbance. My darkest time was a nuisance. He only wanted his daughter. That part I could understand, wanted it even, but what I couldn’t understand was how he let me. He let me get comfortable, even said he was comfortable, and then tossed my comfort in my face.

  It hurt my heart like it had never been broken. There was no fear around this ache. It was the kind of hurt you didn’t understand until you felt it for yourself. I thought we were losing each other in our selves. But I had been wrong. Dylan had only been letting me attach myself to him out of pity.

  I didn’t need his pity.

  I hadn’t ever wanted that from him.

  I thought I’d finally found a man worth opening myself up to.

  I was wrong.

  I was stupid.

  Again.

  “I’m sorry I bothered you, Dylan. I won’t bother you anymore.”

  “Hill,” he groaned, agony lacing every syllable. “This is what’s best for you. You have to know that.”

  “Is it what’s best for you?”

  He looked down, unable to answer.

  He didn’t need one.

  It was better. It was him taking pity one more time.

  I’d never wanted to cry harder. I wanted to cry. Forget what I’d read and heard. Holding it in and being a strong woman in the face of heartache felt useless. But I could be strong enough. I could last one more minute.

  “You were right about one thing.”

  “What’s that, baby?” He stared at the ground.

  “You are the biggest liar in the world.” And then I left the room and Dylan Meyer.

  I let it loose the second I closed the guesthouse door. I wanted to slam it but didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. After all, I did attach myself to him. I forced myself on him, and he let it go on for as long as he could stomach.

  I slipped into the Evan’s home and ran upstairs for the bedroom I’d been sleeping in. I donned my sandals and grabbed my purse, and then took off for the front door. I could hear women talking. I wanted out of there before I had to tell them the only reason I was here was because Dylan Meyer felt sorry for my darkness.

  Bach’s truck idled in the driveway. I paused and watched my brother smile at the love of his life. A pang stabbed me. I wanted that. I wanted to look at a man and know he loved me so much that nothing I ever did would push him away. My confusion thickened. When did that happen? When did I give in? When did I fall in love with Dylan Meyer? Was it when I woke up, and he was there? Was it when we shared our nightmares while we slept? Was it when he tasted me? Let me choose? Was it when he made me laugh or smile? Was it when he made me blush and moan? Which one of his lies took my heart?

  Or maybe it was all of those moments. Small on their own but creating one large blin
dingly painful mistake. We made promises to each other. We were supposed to try.

  Now I had to try on my own. I had to find comfort within myself. Because the only person who could give me what I needed was me.

  I walked past Bach’s truck. Past his shouts. Away from Harley’s too. I’d get myself home. I’d run until I found where that was.

  I dashed through the fields, avoiding the road. Bach would take that road. When I heard his screaming in the distance, I ran harder. I pumped my legs, running from that night. I ran from the image of me walking up those stairs. From Dylan’s lips, from the man who pleaded for me and then pushed me away. From the lies my mother kept from me, from the future she shoved down my throat because she lived in fear of the choices she had once made.

  I ran in hopes that I’d leave all of that behind. When I got to the highway and realized I didn’t have a phone, and the cars were going too fast. They were speeding away from me like nothing I was doing now mattered. But that couldn’t be true. If I was doing it, then it had to matter.

  I kept going, pushing myself further than I had ever pushed myself, until breaking felt like something I’d done instead of something I was doing. I watched the gray sky clash with the water. The waves were churning. I traced the highway and the ocean. By the time I made it into Crystal Gulf, my feet were sore, and I’d never felt emptier in my entire life.

  I had lived in fear of that moment, of being alone with my nightmares. It was as scary as I envisioned. Just as alone as I felt locked in that bedroom. How did you save yourself when there was no key? No magic word?

  I thought I knew the answer. Maybe I’d known it all along.

  Saving myself was forgiving myself for allowing me to be hurt in the first place.

  When I got to my apartment it was blessedly empty. There was a note on the fridge and one on my bedroom door. Call me. I slammed my fridge shut and chugged my water, so tired my legs screamed. I fell into my bed and curled up with my pillow, recalling Dylan’s long body on it. That felt like years ago. But it wasn’t years or even weeks. It was just days. Days ago I had been lost; now I had to figure out where I was going and just get there.

  No pressure …

  I awoke with a gasp. My hair was matted to my face with sweat. I could smell it all over me. My heart thudded. Zane was mocking me, struggling with his zipper. His Crystal Gulf University Gators cap was pulled low, shielding his eyes. “There’s some bad people out there.”

  Bang. Bang.

  I sagged in relief but did not move. Followed by the pounding, there was a distinct male shouting. Bach could knock all he wanted. Dylan wasn’t the only man I had issues with. If we were going to be siblings I had to be able to rely on him every time I needed him, not just when it suited him. Even if I wanted his strong arms and for him to just tell me what to do. But I didn’t think Bach knew what to do any more than I did. Our father didn’t give us that. His mother didn’t either. Mine had taught me, although after learning that she was just as interwoven with Bach’s past as he was his own, it was hard to discern between her desire to fix her past and protect me from it at the same time.

  Maybe I wasn’t the only one who needed to forgive herself.

  “Hillary, please.” Bach’s heartfelt demands sounded tired and broken.

  I turned the knob and faced my brother.

  “It’s almost midnight!” he roared, hair and clothes disheveled. He shoved us into the apartment and slammed the door. “How did you get home?”

  “I flew.”

  “I don’t need your bullshit right now. You run away from me? You make me chase after you? Search the entire city and road for you? What if someone else hurt you? What if!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You Squares are going to give me a heart attack.” He shoved me against his chest and wrapped me in his arms. “Don’t do that again. I know how you feel when you run. You should never feel that way. If you want to run, call me. We’ll take off together. Do you hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  He stepped away and got his cell out. A quick tap of the keys later and Mom’s number was ringing. It rang once before her voice screeched through the speaker. “Where is she?”

  “Mom. I am an adult. If I want to leave for a couple days, I can do that.”

  “Hillary Hayes. This is the last time you take off without talking to me with men and people you don’t know.”

  She didn’t understand. Partly I knew I should comfort her the way I’d always done. Yes, ma’am. Of course, Mom. Whatever you want. She worked her butt off to give me this life. I appreciated every second. But it was a life she created. I wanted one I chose—a life I picked. I didn’t want to give in.

  “I’m moving out.”

  The words left me in a rush. A sudden decision that my brain latched on to.

  Mom snorted. “You’re lucky if I ever let you leave again. Moving out is the last thing you need.”

  “I love you. I’m so thankful that you devoted your life for mine, but you won’t even let me fall apart the way I want.” She bypassed relationships and love for me, probably a life much different than the one she wanted. She needed this too. We all needed to move on. “I’ll get a job and get my own apartment.” I kept going, unable to stop myself, all of my secrets bubbling up. “I’m not going back to school. At least not to be a veterinarian. I can’t stand animals. I want to do something different, something for people. For others who need my help. I want to know Bach. I love him. I want my brother. And I want you to be okay with me doing all of these things. Tell me you don’t need a break, Mom? When’s the last time you took care of yourself?”

  Bach rubbed my arms, staring at my phone like he knew Patty hadn’t been free either. Past hurts didn’t heal if you shoved them down. They didn’t go away because you wanted them to. You had to face them, so they could leave. My father hurt her, maybe she even hurt before him. He left her with me. Her struggle had been hard, but she succeeded. Now it was time for all of us to do the same.

  “What are you talking about? You can’t dropout. I didn’t raise a dropout. Two more years and then you’re done. Why move out when you can save money living with me? You’re only nineteen, Hill. You’re not ready. We’ll talk about this in a few years. I’m not ready to let you go yet. Not when you’re still hurting.”

  I would be hurting regardless of where I was. In her house, on my own—this hurt wasn’t going to be any less painful if I stayed here. Me staying comforted her, the way it had my entire life. Everything I’d done until this point was to please my mother. My failures were painful, but I’d followed her rules enough to know that following them any longer would end up with me losing myself completely. “You have to let me go.”

  “Hillary,” she groaned. “Where’s this coming from? You’re not in the right frame of mind. I’m coming home right now. We have to talk.”

  I wanted to deny her. She’d find a way to persuade me and make me want what she’s always wanted. But I didn’t feel moveable right now. “Come home. We should talk.”

  She was quiet on the other end save for her heavy breathing. “Hill. Don’t do this to me.”

  My heart broke for her. Maybe in giving me the future she wanted, she was fixing the bad things she’d done, and as much as I wanted that for her, it wasn’t going to work. If I gave in now, I’d be giving in forever. “I’m not doing anything to you, Mom. I’m doing this for us.”

  “You want me to stay?” Bach asked after I hung up and handed him back his phone.

  “I love you,” I stated simply. “I want you in my life as a real brother and not my boss. If you can’t give me that then as hard as that’s going to be we’re going to have to part ways too.” We had to have this talk as well.

  He held my gaze, choosing between his self-doubt and me. “I love you too. I want to be in your life. I’m here, Sweets.”

  I exhaled in relief and walked forward into his arms. I was so tired it was unbelievable. Bach walked me over to the couch, and
then I curled up against him, staring into space. Too many things were changing and exploding. I wanted to cover my ears and ignore them, hide one more day, but as Bach said, we couldn’t hide anymore.

  “You want to watch something?”

  There’s no point, I thought darkly; I’m just going to think about Dylan.

  But I nodded, because it was easier than admitting that my safe zone considered me an aggravation. Bach reached for the remote and then scrolled through the channels.

  Dylan and I lost ourselves in each other. When we kissed, it wasn’t empty. It was emotion and desire, two things that lit me on fire and made me feel confident. I wasn’t a fragile, broken girl to him when we were intertwined, but a woman he was resurrecting. How could someone who made me feel so secure make me feel so astray?

  “How do you know when you love someone?”

  He shrugged against me. “Like running after your sister all night love, or hooking up with my best friend love?”

  My lips lifted into an unexpected smile. “The second one.”

  “You going to make me be a pussy too?”

  “Mhm.” I snuggled against him.

  “I can only speak for myself. When I think of Harley, everything feels better. The darkness around me doesn’t look so bleak. When we’re together, it’s just us and how we feel. She makes me want to be better. Her good is so strong that it overshadows my bad. I think that’s love. It’s wanting someone not because you can have them, but because you’d have nothing if they were gone.”

  My breath left me. “How long does it take to happen? In books and movies sometimes it’s sudden. Sometimes it takes a long time. How long does love take?”

  “It took me twenty-two years, Hillary, to even know what love was. But I think even after everything we went through, I loved Harley the second she walked into my apartment with Dylan’s pain in her eyes. I wanted that pain to be mine.”

  Did Dylan do to me what he did to her? Lie? “Did our Dad really not say I love you?”

  “The only thing I heard were his fists.”