So I resist, even if the itch is there. Because finding Kash is fucking amazing, it’s a miracle—but it’s been a stressful couple of days and nights, and seeing Kash so battered, so out of it, it just… flipped that switch.
The switch I’ve been fighting to forget about.
I wipe my hands on my sweats and rest my gaze on Kash. Sydney is sitting beside him, her hand over his. His hair is so long it looks like it hasn’t been cut in months… He has some scraggly blond hairs on his chin. Probably doesn’t grow a beard, or it’s so fair it barely shows. So fucking thin, as if he has been starved.
I fucking hate to see him like this. He’s quiet, munching on his sandwich, his face strained with exhaustion. I’m dying to ask him about where he’s been, and what the hell happened, but I realize he’s falling asleep where he’s sitting.
Nate takes the sandwich from his hand when his chin dips forward. “Nap time,” he intones with a faint smile, and lifts him to his feet and guides him to lie down on the sofa.
Sydney covers him with a blanket and we stand guard around him for a while, just looking at him, silent sentinels. His face is relaxed, one arm flung behind his head. He looks so fucking young like that. I have to remind myself he’s my age, and my height, and when he’s well again, he’ll be able to take me down single-handed and blind-folded. Seeing him so vulnerable is opening closed boxes inside my mind I don’t want open.
I don’t wanna be vulnerable. I don’t want to open up all the way. If that happens, I’ll fall like a house of cards.
So I make myself move away and busy myself calling work, washing the dishes, cleaning the counters and avoiding the sponge and bleach, telling my brain to suck it.
Not that it works, but then Nate and Syd are there, dragging me away from the kitchen, distracting me.
“I’m gonna go grab his medicines,” Nate is saying, and I’ve no idea why they’re hauling me to the bedroom, seriously. Not that I’d complain. Not now. “It’s almost time for the antibiotics, and we should have grabbed the vitamins for him to take with the food.”
“He’ll be fine,” I mumble, dropping on the bed and stretching out with a groan.
“I’m going to take some of his clothes and get them washed,” Syd says. “You’re staying with him, right? Until we’re back?”
“I took a day off work today. I’ll be here but...” But don’t leave me now, please, not when I’m so damn jittery I can’t stand myself. But I stop the plea
from leaving my mouth, replace it with something else as I sit up. “Go ahead. We’ll be fine.”
Besides, Nate won’t be long, I tell myself, Sydney either. Kash is here.
And I can’t control myself. I’m an adult. No need for fucking babysitters.
Why the hell am I so strung up? I close the door behind Nate and Syd and lean against it, closing my hands into fists to control their shaking. Everything’s fine now. Everything will be just fine.
Kash sleeps peacefully and I can’t keep watching him like a creeper. I go tidy up the bedroom, then the bathroom, thoughts crowding in my head, a warning pulsing about bad things about to happen and leaving, and somehow I find myself on my knees, scrubbing the shower and whispering under my breath.
I’m cursing, and repeating Kash’s name like a charm against evil, over and over. I match the chanting with the circles I scrub over the tiles, and
I can’t stop. If I stop, it will fall apart.
If I stop, I’ll leave. If I stop, something will go wrong.
Kash.
Kash.
K—
“West.” Kash is standing behind me, one hand braced on the wall, cheeks paling. His voice is soft. “What’s wrong, mudak?”
It takes me long seconds to process that I’m on my knees, stinging suds clinging to my hands and forearms.
And that he’s there and looks about to fall over.
Shit. The chant is still going on inside my head, but I put the sponge aside, wash my hands and drag myself to my feet. “You should be lying down.”
“I couldn’t find you,” he whispers. “Any of you. I thought… I thought I had dreamed it all.”
His gaze is haunted.