Escaped Artist (Untamed #3)

by Green, Victoria

Dare pulled back, groaning. “Shit. Am I hurting you?”

  I shook my head, unable to speak.

  The only pain I felt was the very real fear that he would somehow slip through my fingers now that I finally had him. Like every tiny piece of happiness in my life already had.

  In this moment, Dare’s rough movements were welcome. They made me feel alive. I needed the sharp sting of every bite and scrape of his teeth, wanted his fingers to keep digging into my hips, craved the wild grind of his pelvis as he pushed so deep into me. I felt every raw, unbridled thrust with great agony and even greater pleasure.

  “Please don’t stop,” I said, begging not only with my words, but also with my body. “I love you, too. I always have.”

  Dare groaned and blazed a trail of kisses along my jawline and down my neck as his hips rocked in and out. Electricity built up anew in my core, each thrust bringing me closer to the edge of the highest cliff I’d ever climbed. Higher than any pill had ever taken me.

  I held onto every part of him, my legs wrapped around his waist, my arms clinging to his neck, my muscles clenching his thickness as my eyes stayed firmly locked on his. Tingling centered between my thighs as we moved together, his heart throbbing in sync with mine, and I was suddenly calling out his name, my body exploding into a thousand fireworks, bright sparks engulfing my vision. Dare came with me, the Ree! he cried out a sound of pure love on his lips.

  Pinned against the wall and bathed in our combined sweat and juices, I shuddered beneath him as our joint pleasure continued to course through us. Even once we both descended from the high, I tightened my grasp on him.

  This wasn’t an escape. It was real life. Dirty, gritty, magnificent.

  Dare was mine.

  I was his.

  And I was never letting him go. Ever again.

  eight

  As we lay on the bed in her tiny hostel room, our bodies woven together and our breaths flowing in unison, all I could think about was the pain I’d seen in her eyes when she’d spotted me down by the front desk.

  My heart had never hurt like this before. It had never cared so much for someone, nor been so deeply affected. Ree and I had started out as two fucked up, wounded parts who completed each other and made one another whole. But there was only so much pain two broken parts could stand before cracking. Eventually, healing had to take place.

  I had to heal Ree. Or, really, I had to make her understand that she needed it.

  I reached up and brushed a damp strand of hair off her face. There was a tiny spark of contentment in her eyes, but it was gone before it had a chance to light the rest of her face.

  She sank her teeth into her lower lip. “What’s wrong?”

  “Ree…” Her name was just a whisper as I traced her jawline with my thumb, slowly making my way up to her lip so I could free it. I was about to cross into dangerous territory. One wrong word could make me lose her again.

  Panic flooded her face—I needed to just spit it out.

  “We can’t keep doing this,” I said quietly.

  “Don’t say that, Dare. Don’t you fucking say that.” She placed her hands on my chest and tried to push away from me, but I tightened my arms around her, keeping her close.

  “Wait. Just listen.” I took a deep breath. “Listen to me, please.”

  Fuck. This was going to be hard.

  “You need help. Those pills will destroy you.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing, what I was saying. Every muscle in my body hurt from strain. I was wound so tightly, full of so many emotions. “I can’t fix you. I wish I could, but I can’t.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve tried before…with my mom…but it’s not—”

  “I’m not like your mom.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I can’t believe you think that about me. I’m not a druggie.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I’ve never used those kinds of—”

  “Drugs are drugs, Ree. It doesn’t matter if it’s heroin or those pills you take. You need to learn to deal with life without them.”

  Her voice softened as she glanced up at me and said, “But, I’m fine when I’m with you.” Her fingers brushed my cheek, soft and featherlight. “I’m always fine with you, Dare.”

  Goddamn it. It would be so easy to believe her. She was so fucking beautiful.

  And beautifully broken.

  “Except every time your family rears its ugly head.”

  “No, it’s not like that—I’m not like that. I’m NOT an addict.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she broke from my grasp and scooted up to the headboard, her knees pressing into her chest. “I’m NOT, I’m not, I’m not,” she said, but with each not her voice got quieter and quieter as if she believed the words less and less. “I just…sometimes I just don’t want to FEEL. That’s all, Dare. I’ve stopped before. I don’t need it when we’re together. Not usually.”

  “Ree, listen to yourself,” I said, not unkindly. “I’ve been through this. I’ve heard all the excuses. And I fucking love you. I’ve never said that to anyone before. I’ve never felt this with anyone. You are everything to me. Every-fucking-thing. I need you.” I was in front of her now, wrapping my hands around her waist, pulling her onto my lap. “But you have to get well if we’re going to work. Because we’re never going to make it if you keep letting those pills rule your life. Look at everything that has happened already. That’ll be our life if you don’t get better. It will tear us apart.” I pressed my forehead to hers, lowered my voice to a whisper. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose you ever again.”

  She shivered in my arms, her expression so wounded I expected her to flee. But she didn’t.

  “I don’t know how to stop,” she finally said, pressing her lips together. “I’m a fucking mess. Look at me.”

  “You’re not a mess.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “You’re my other half.” I knew that without a shadow of a doubt. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t be the one to fix her. Not entirely, anyway. I could be here for her while she fought her demons, help her get the help she so desperately needed. “I don’t know how to make you stop either, but you can go someplace for help.”

  She stiffened. “Rehab?”

  “There’s a center right outside of town,” I said carefully. “One of the artists at Vogel Tattoos stayed there last year for a bit. He’s been clean for ten months.”

  Ree was quiet for a long while, lost in deep thought. Her eyes, though, never left mine. The blue hues of her irises were so uniquely distinct that no matter how many shades of paint I employed, I could never quite capture their true splendor. Right now, her gaze was as dark and turbulent as the restless ocean before an oncoming storm.

  “I don’t want to be like this anymore,” she finally said, pressing her cheek to my chest. A wave of relief flooded me. “I don’t want to be afraid or broken or weak. I want to be Real Ree.”

  Her words shook me to the core.

  “You are real, Ree,” I said. “And so fucking strong.”

  “Doesn’t feel like it.” She sounded small, lost.

  “I know you can do this.” I crowned her head with kisses. “It’s only twenty-eight days, baby. That’s all.”

  Her shoulders stiffened. “Twenty-eight days? A whole month without you?” She shook her head and started to pull away. “I don’t know—”

  “Not without me.” I tightened my grip, keeping her safely locked in my grasp. “I’ll be by your side the whole time. I’m not going anywhere. You won’t be a prisoner there. You can leave whenever you like. And I can visit.” I tilted her chin up so I could look in her eyes. “But it’s important for you to stick it out if you’re going to get better. You have to be the one to do this. If we’re going to have a chance, you have to CHOOSE this.”

  “I do,” she said slowly. “I’ll go.”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Once again, she stiffened. But a few seconds later, she nodded.

  “I’ll take you,” I said, pressing my lips to hers.
“It’ll be okay. I promise.”

  Her arms instinctively wrapped around my neck as she returned my kiss. “Don’t give up on me. Promise you won’t.”

  “I won’t.” I cupped her face with both of my hands. “But you can’t give up either.”

  She shook her head. “I won’t.”

  I would be here for her. Waiting patiently.

  Two parts, one whole.

  Together, yet divided.

  At least for now.

  nine

  The first words out of Dare’s mouth the next morning while I was packing up my stuff were: “Where is it?”

  I swallowed hard. My bottle of pills. He didn’t have to say it; I knew that was what he meant. And I knew what he wanted me to do with it.

  I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I could do this. I could say goodbye to my old friends, the one constant in my life for the past seven years.

  Oh, dear god.

  My hands were shaking when I picked it up, and I didn’t even turn around to see if Dare was standing in the bathroom doorway. I knew what I had to do, no matter how fast my breaths came nor how hard my heart pounded.

  But what if I wasn’t strong enough to live without them? What if the nightmares came when Dare wasn’t around? What if I couldn’t face my past sober?

  My life was about to be picked apart and then put back together. And while I was looking forward to the latter, I’d have been lying if I said the other didn’t scare the living shit out of me.

  I’d have to bare every one of my dirty secrets—to be heard, to be seen, to be judged.

  Okay, I wasn’t sure if I could do this.

  Shit.

  I turned to look at Dare standing behind me, and was taken at the love in his eyes. His strength ran through me, empowering me.

  He believed in me, so I had to believe in myself.

  I had to do this. For me. And for us.

  I unscrewed the lid of the bottle and tipped out its contents. The pills cascaded into the toilet below. All of them.

  Every. Single. One.

  “Are there any more?” he asked quietly.

  I shook my head, still staring as they sank to the bottom of the bowl in all their colorful glory. For years now, I’d only been able to function with their help—the uppers when I wanted to feel, and the downers when I needed to forget. I had no idea how I was going to survive without them.

  My heart pounded even as I tried to calm myself.

  It was going to be okay.

  I was going to be okay.

  Fuck it all, I could do this.

  “I have to stop by the shop before we head out. Do you mind?” Dare said as he folded me into his arms. I clung to him, inhaling his scent, wishing I had a bottle of that to take with me.

  It was only twenty-eight days.

  I COULD DO THIS.

  But did I mind delaying the start of that by a few hours? Nope. Not at all.

  When we got to Vogel Tattoos, Dare disappeared into the back room in search of his boss while I sat in the waiting area and flipped through one of the well-worn black binders full of butterfly tattoo designs. Delicate to ornate, simple to highly detailed, and in every color imaginable, they were beautiful, though they paled in comparison to the radiance of my phoenix.

  My phoenix. I wondered if Dare still had it. In everything that had happened, I’d totally forgotten to ask. And now that I no longer had my pills, I didn’t know what I was going to do without my bird, how I would make it through the hell that was sure to follow in the next twenty eight days.

  I started wishing I’d agreed to rehab AFTER I got my tattoo, because then at least I’d have it with me.

  If he even still had the damn drawing.

  Oh, god. He had to still have it.

  A shadow fell over me and I ran my eyes up a pair of toned legs, a bare, pierced midriff, and tattooed arms, to Sia’s face. I smiled at her and she sank down next to me on the deep red leather couch.

  “So,” she said, leaning forward, a cold, calculated look on her beautiful face, “I happened to overhear Dare telling Jasmine that he’s taking you to Feniks Centrum.” She widened her eyes and shook her head. “You poor thing.”

  Happened to overhear, my ass.

  “Feniks Centrum?”

  “The rehab center. Feniks means ‘phoenix.’ I’m sure it’s supposed to be some great symbol of change.” She rolled her eyes. “Like anyone actually can change. People don’t, though, do they? Especially not addicts.” She moved closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Hun, I’ve had SO many friends go through rehab and not one of them made it stick. Once an addict, always an addict. That’s just the way things are, you know?”

  God, what a bitch. But…what if she was right? My pulse sped up. What if this was all going to be a waste of time and money? This place wasn’t cheap, and it was going to take all of the money I’d saved up to pay for my stay. When I got out, my bank account would be as empty as my parents’ hearts. I’d have to start all over again.

  Which would be fine…if the treatment worked. But if it didn’t—if I failed—then I’d be out of money…and out of Dare. I knew there was no way he would stick around if I kept using. He’d made himself clear. No matter how much he cared for me, our love wouldn’t be enough to withstand the devastation my addiction would leave in its wake.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back against the couch, feeling the room swim. I couldn’t lose him. Not again.

  The name of the rehab had to be a sign. That was something I could cling to, even if I didn’t have my drawing. Dare wouldn’t have suggested this place if it didn’t have a good success rate.

  I opened my eyes to find Sia studying me.

  “I can’t believe you’re doing this to him after everything he’s had to endure with his mother.”

  “What?”

  She shrugged her slight shoulders. “I mean, the guy just can’t catch a break. First his whole childhood is spent dealing with a druggie mom and now his girlfriend is one. He must have a lot of bad karma he’s working off.” She tilted her head to one side as her dark eyes dimmed. “He deserves better than this. Better than you. I guess I had you pegged all wrong when we met yesterday.”

  “You know what? Fuck you.” Goddamn it. I wasn’t his mom. I would prove it to Dare, prove it to everyone. “You don’t even know me, Sia. You have no right pegging me.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But I do know Dare. VERY well. And I know that you’re a selfish bitch to be putting him through this again.”

  “And you’re a—”

  “You ready to go, Ree?” Dare called as he came out of the back. Sia beamed up at him, stood, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then shot me a nasty look. “Thanks for loaning me your car,” he said to her as he held out his hand to me. “Ready?”

  I watched Sia walk away, not even deigning to look over her shoulder at me, and then I stood up.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said, but inside I was quaking.

  Sia wanted Dare. That was clear as day. I’d gotten the feeling they had some sort of history when he’d first mentioned her three years ago, but it was obvious that for Sia it wasn’t totally history.

  And I was about to go away, while he’d be working with her. Side by side. Every day.

  Fuck. Me.

  What if he decided he wanted her instead? What if she convinced him that I’d never completely let go of the pills? What if she—

  “Here.” Dare held out a very familiar folded-up piece of paper, and I gasped at the sight of it in his hand. My phoenix. “Carry this with you—a piece of me that you can always have whenever you need it—and when the twenty-eight days are up, I’ll start on the tattoo.”

  “Really?” My vision became blurry and my eyes stung as my fingers closed around it. “I won’t be able to pay for—”

  “Ree,” he said, and I looked up into his fathomless dark eyes. “I’m doing it. You’re not paying me for anything. I’m doing it. For you.”

&nbs
p; When Dare left me at the rehab center, I felt pure panic. I had my phoenix in one hand, my suitcase in another, but I had no idea what my life would be like twenty-eight days from now.

  I had to finally face my past.

  That, more than anything, scared the shit out of me.

  ten

  “Bloody hell. What did the poor toast do to you?” Synner hovered above me, watching me butter the bread. Or what was left of it.

  Thirteen days without Ree. If I was a chick, I’d probably know the exact tally of hours, minutes, and seconds. That would definitely push me over the brink of insanity, especially considering I was already teetering on its edge.

  He leaned down to take a closer look at my plate, then turned to me and said, “Did it fuck your girl, too?”

  “Fuck. Off.” I pointed the knife at his face. “I’m not above committing murder today. I’ll happily live out my twenty to life here if it means shutting you up.”

  “You’re not living here happily now,” Synner said. “And I sincerely doubt that’s going to change, if the last two weeks are any indication.”

  “I’d be a lot happier if you’d go away,” I said, still holding the knife out at him.

  Indie walked into the kitchen and pushed the blade down toward the table. “Don’t stab him Dare,” she said, beelining for the coffeepot. “The guy is so perverted he might actually like it. Then you’ll never get rid of him.”

  “You wish YOU’D never gotten rid of me,” Synner said with a smirk. “Admit it. You miss the kink.” He spanked her ass and reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his cigarettes.

  Before he could pull one out, Indie had already smacked the pack out of his hand, sending it flying to the floor. “Not in the house,” she said.

  Synner groaned. “Why do you always insist on being such a bloody ice queen, Blue?”

  Her lips parted and her expression softened the way it always did whenever he called her that. Then, just as quickly, it grew hard again. Synner grabbed for his smokes, and Indie rolled her eyes, though she didn’t protest this time.

  “Someone has to keep this band from sinking.” She glanced over at the pink panty-clad ass peeking out from behind the open fridge door. “We’re not running a bed and breakfast here, Synner,” she said loudly enough for his groupie-du-jour to hear. “And even if we were—it’s five o’clock in the afternoon.”