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“Scott, please. I know you probably earn more than me, but I need to be treated as an equal.” I swallowed, shifting my eyes to my plate as I worried that I’d said too much.Hehad bought everything for me, telling me it was because he cared for me so that when I realized what kind of monster he was, I had nothing of myself left. I couldn’t do that again, even if it was just some damn groceries. Scott must have heard some of that resolve in my voice because he nodded instead of arguing further.
“All right, we’ll split it.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, trying to push the thoughts ofhimout of my head. Scott was nothing like the man who’d destroyed me, who’d broken me into pieces. Scott was nice and kind, and I needed to remember that. I needed to pushhimback into the box I kept him locked in.
“All right. So let’s reconvene in an hour to meet and greet the trolls, yeah?” Scott asked with a grin, making me chuckle and pull out of my thoughts. He was good at that, I realized, at making me laugh. I hadn’t noticed, but I’d laughed more since I became his roommate than I had in the whole year before that.
After washing up, Scott headed to the grocery store while I got the laundry started. By the time he returned, the laundry was all but done, and we quickly put the groceries away before moving to the couch with our books and bottles of water. We read for hours, putting together sandwiches for lunch between chapters and taking small cookie and water breaks in between. I’d just reached the end of the chapter I’d been reading when Scott’s phone rang.
“Sorry,” Scott said, fishing out his phone from where it had ended up buried between the couch cushions. I waved him on, and he smiled before picking up the call.
“Hey, Mike,” Scott said as he answered, a smile appearing on his face. Mike was his best friend, and though I hadn’t met the man, the way Scott talked about him told me he was a good person.
“Mm-hm, yeah, yeah. Okay, let me ask Luke.” He pressed the phone against his chest and turned to me. “Mike’s cousin’s friend is in town, and Mike was wondering if he could crash on our couch tonight. Would that be okay with you?”
I opened my mouth to tell him that it was his house and he could do whatever he wanted before I realized he was asking me because he wanted to know if I’d be okay with a stranger in our space. Of course I wouldn’t, but I could deal with it. I’d finish dinner early and then stay in my room until he was gone. Simple.
I nodded at him, giving him a thumbs up, and then hurried into the kitchen to start making dinner quickly. Scott ended the call after a few minutes and walked over to the kitchen. He watched me for a moment from the doorway, at a respectful distance as always. I especially appreciated it right now because the thought of having a stranger in my safe space was making me feel a bit edgy. As if reading my mind, Scott spoke. “I can tell him to find somewhere else.”
I shook my head. “Nah, your friend needs a place. It’s just one night anyway, right? I’m gonna turn in early, though, if you don’t mind.”
Scott nodded, and I did just that. I was so glad my room had an attached bathroom as I washed up before donning my pajama pants and long-sleeved shirt for bed. I settled on my bed and picked up the book I’d been reading. It wasn’t from the Bastien White series, and I didn’t think I’d ever read it with Scott since it was a gay romance, and I couldn’t see that happening. But Lane and Felix were characters who always made me laugh, and I’d reread the book many times, especially when I was having a bad day. I settled back into my pillows and chuckled as Felix made his plans to kidnap another animal into his family.
I wasn’t too surprised when I woke up from a dream I couldn’t remember—or maybe it had been a nightmare—and saw that it was just a few minutes past three a.m. Maybe I could make some tea and read while I waited for sleep to greet me again. It was what I usually did on nights I couldn’t drop off. With that thought in mind, I went into the kitchen and turned on the kettle, grabbing my box of teabags from the cabinet. I didn’t turn on the lights because the nightlights were enough to guide me, and I’d learned that Scott was a light sleeper, so I didn’t want to wake him.
A minute later, I wished Ihadturned the lights on when I felt a presence behind me. I knew it wasn’t Scott, mainly because he always stayed in the doorway unless I invited him in whenever I was in the kitchen and also because he would never try to scare me like that. I slowly turned off the kettle, my mind going into overdrive as panic clawed its way into my mind. Was it a burglar? Or someone else? Did they want to hurt me?
I went to turn away, and suddenly, there he was, pressing me into the counter. And then I was back inhishouse, inhiskitchen, and he was pressing me against the counter. I knew what was going to happen next. He would pull my pants down and force himself into me, without warning, and he’d fuck me hard, relishing my pain as he threatened to push my fingers into whatever appliance was the closest if I didn’t enjoy myself too. This couldn’t be happening. I’d left him. I’descaped.
“Hey, baby,” the man whispered in my ear, and it washisvoice, the scent of his alcoholic breath threatening to make me dizzy. No, no, no. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again. Not again.
My eyes fell on the knife lying on the cutting board, and I grabbed it, pushed the man away, and whirled around to face him, pointing the knife at his face even as my hand shook. I tried to make my voice firm as I said, “Stay away from me.”
The man’s eyes fell to the knife in my hand, and he raised his hands above his head, staring at me with wide eyes. “For fuck's sake, dude, I was just trying to have some fun.”
He shook his head and walked away, and then he was gone. It was only then I remembered about the guy Scott had offered the couch to and realized it must’ve been him. I didn’t have the energy to process what that meant. I jumped when I heard the front door slam shut and dropped the knife before sinking to my knees. I shuffled away from it, stuffing myself into a corner between the counter and the wall. I curled my arms around my knees, my eyes on the knife, and panic crashed through my body like a tornado as I shuddered.
It had been almost six months since I’d cut. I hadn’t felt this strong an urge for months. But I needed it now. I needed it to release this tornado, this pain, this fear, and hurt, and anxiety that was brewing inside me. I needed to get it out, out, out before it drowned me. I felt like I would burst into a million pieces if I didn’t let it all out of myself.
I’d been so good about it for so long. I didn’t want to start again. But I needed it. It wouldn’t be as clean with a knife, though. Maybe I could go into the bathroom, grab a blade. But I didn’t think I could move, not even enough to grab the tool that was lying just a few steps away. I tried to breathe through it, to think about something else, anything that could keep me from drowning in this overwhelming storm of emotions.
Scott. What would Scott do? He didn’t know anything about my past. I knew he could see that I was broken, but I didn’t want him to see just how fucked up I was. If he found me bleeding in the kitchen—or if he saw what I did to myself—he’d know.
It was that thought that finally gave me the strength to stick my foot out and kick the knife away, out of my line of sight. I couldn’t bear to see that look of pity or, worse, disgust and horror on his face. Couldn’t bear for him to avoid me, to not talk to me. To be repulsed by me. To hate me.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t.
6
Scott
Iwokeupatsix-thirty like every day, stretching my arms above my head as I sat up. I loved this time of the day, when the sun was just peeking above the horizon and my room was lit in the faint glow of the dawn light. I’d gone to bed a lot later than usual yesterday since Dylan, the guy I was lending our couch to, had arrived just shy of midnight, drunk off his ass. I had wanted to send him away right then, not wanting him anywhere in our house or near Luke, but I’d made a promise. I hoped he was already gone, even though it was highly unlikely he'd be up so early considering how hammered he was.
Freshening up, I made my way to the kitchen, debating whether Luke would prefer some pancakes or eggs and bacon for breakfast. I was pleasantly surprised to find Dylan was indeed gone when I walked into the living room. He could’ve been in the bathroom, except his bag was gone too, so I didn’t think so. Thank god for small mercies.
I walked into the kitchen and frowned, coming to a stop just inside the doorway. Something was off. My eyes immediately fell on the knife lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. Who the fuck dropped it there?
Shaking my head, I walked over to the knife and knelt to pick it up. That’s when my eyes fell on Luke. Somehow, he’d stuffed himself in the narrow space between the counter end and the wall. His eyes were trained on a spot near his feet, and he wasn’t moving at all. I might not have even noticed him if I hadn’t kneeled down. What the hell was going on?
