We’re going back to bed. That meant Maddie was out there, too. He had woken both her daughters and made them worry about their mother.
Shade waited a few pounding heartbeats for them to move away from the door before he muttered, “Sorry you gotta lie to them.” He swung his legs off the bed, grabbed the crutches propped against the nightstand next to his side of the bed and pulled himself to a stand.
Two more fucking days. Two more and he could stop using the crutches and brace and get back to normal.
Right. Normal.
When the fuck had his life ever been normal?
He clenched his jaw and yanked open the nightstand drawer, grabbing the pipe, lighter and tin of bud Easy had refilled for him the other day. He didn’t bother to watch Chelle’s reaction at seeing it stored in her bedroom.
He made his way to the French doors, unlocked them and awkwardly made his way through them, then shut himself outside. He sighed when the bedroom light turned on inside and cast a glow through the door over the seat he settled in. He propped the crutches against the wood railing and his foot on the only other chair on the tiny balcony. He dumped his shit in his lap so he could fill his metal pipe.
Fuck it. Chelle most likely wouldn’t approve of him smoking, but the balcony was private and unless the girls recognized the smell, they’d never know. Though, he was pretty sure Chelle’s daughters knew what pot smelled like. While they hadn’t come out and directly confessed, they’d both hinted to him they’d tried it at least once. Maybe more. But without numbing his brain, he wouldn’t get through the next few minutes, the next hour, or the rest of the night.
He was packing the pot tightly in the bowl with his finger when the door opened and Chelle came out wearing her robe and slippers since the mid-October night was cool.
He didn’t bother to look at her, but had no choice when she lifted his bare foot from the seat of the chair, settled in its place and tucked his foot back on her lap, her warm hands holding it there to prevent him from pulling away.
He didn’t bother to fight her, instead took his time to finish prepping the pipe before lifting it to his lips and lighting it. He pulled a long drag deep into his lungs, held it until his body screamed for air, then blew it up and away from Chelle.
He waited for her to bitch and when she didn’t, he took another long, deep hit, the smoke filling his lungs and slowly settling his rushing pulse.
He had the strange need to apologize to her. For what, he wasn’t sure.
No, he knew. He had a long fucking list of shit.
Starting with getting involved in her life and finishing with the reason they were both sitting in silence out on the balcony in the middle of the night while he got baked.
But if he started rattling off apologies and the reasons for them, once he was through, the shock on her face would be worse than the expression she wore after he woke them up because of his nightmare.
He had no idea what he’d said in his sleep.
But his face had been wet and his throat raw once he became aware of his surroundings. Every muscle in his body had been locked tight, too.
He hoped to fuck he hadn’t grabbed for her hand, thinking she was the mother he needed to save. Because that would be fucked.
More than fucked.
He flicked the Zippo again, lifted the pipe to his lips and held the flame to the bowl. He closed his eyes as the smoke once again filled him and began to push out the tension.
Not all of it, but most.
Because Chelle sitting quietly next to him, simply waiting, still made him somewhat tense.
He wanted her. He wanted to keep her. He wanted to fucking claim her for his very own.
But he wasn’t sure that was possible.
Not now. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
And if he couldn’t, those sick motherfuckers got to screw him all over again against his will.
They would once again manage to take from him what was his.
His mother.
His childhood.
His body.
His sanity.
Chelle.
Fuck them. They couldn’t have her. None of them could fucking have her.
She was his.
He was keeping her. He only had to find a way how.
“Will you tell me now?”
He stared out into the night. All the neighbors’ windows were dark. They seemed to be the only ones awake. Like it was only the two of them who existed right now. No one else. “Chelle, you don’t wanna know.”
“If I didn’t, I wouldn’t ask.”
If he told her what she wanted to know, it would no longer be just the two of them. They would be inviting unwelcomed guests. Monsters he didn’t want to share her with.