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All the warm thoughts I’d been having turned to rot as my body went numb. The urge to escape the room was so strong that my entire body began to shake.
I hated him in that moment. He was like all the others. Good-looking or not. Gentle or not. Patient or not. It was all an act. This was the real Lincoln. He liked toying with me. He liked thinking he wielded some kind of power over me because he knew one of my secrets.
I turned the need for my razor blade inward and let the white-hot anger mix with the nothingness. I mentally focused on the balance the two emotions would bring when they collided.
Air began to flow through my lungs again as my brain adapted to the situation.
Just play the right role, Theo.
“It will be a good reminder of my stupidity,” I said easily. “Didn’t you say you wanted to dress the wound again?” I laid my arm on the bed, leaving the large cut as well as its many predecessors exposed. He’d already seen all the other scars on my arm and likely the ones on the rest of my body as well, so there was no reason to hide any of it.
Fake Theo was good at not hiding. He said the right things at the right time.
Lincoln wasn’t so good at hiding. At least not at the moment because his eyes exposed his confusion for several seconds before going blank.
“Yeah, I did say that,” he responded before rising to his feet.
I should have been pleased at my victory but something about the way Lincoln looked at me just before he turned away made my stomach tighten. I could feel the fake balance inside me shake.
No, not happening. He doesn’t get to see any more of me.
Unfortunately, the words didn’t do much to stabilize me. I could feel that tightrope beneath my feet being stripped away from me bit by bit. I managed to hold out long enough for Lincoln to leave the room via the connecting bathroom, but the second he was out of sight, I threw back the covers to reveal my left thigh. I began pounding the same spot on my outer thigh as hard as I could. It took nearly a dozen strikes before I felt that tightrope widening again. The chaotic tornado was still there beneath me, but I wasn’t at risk of falling into its roaring darkness anymore.
I threw the covers back over my leg just seconds before Lincoln returned.
Only he was empty-handed. He gave me a quick glance before saying, “Damn bag’s in here.” He shook his head slowly and in a self-deprecating voice said, “Idiot.”
He returned to the bed with the bag and quickly got what he needed from it. As he wrapped my arm, he began issuing instructions about not getting the bandage wet and to let him know if I felt or saw any signs of infection. It was the same speech I’d heard from the ER doctors who’d had to do the same thing for the pathetic, broken kid who liked cutting himself with razors.
The tightrope began to shake beneath me again.
“All done,” Lincoln said as he secured the bandaging. “Let’s get this out too,” he added as he motioned to the IV port on the back of my hand. He gave me a little smile and then went to work removing the IV and covering the small injection site with a bandage. “That should do it. Any questions?” His voice was patient but emotionless.
I shook my head and tried to pull Fake Theo back together for the next part but there was no next part. Lincoln gave me a simple nod, gathered his things and left the room. There were no words about how I could talk to him about anything, no probing questions about why I did what I did, no pleas for me to never do it again. He was there one minute and gone the next.
Fake Theo had done his job.
Easily.
I listened as the door on Lincoln’s side of the joint bathroom shut.
Maybe too easily?
CHAPTERSEVEN
LINCOLN
Ididn’t see Theo for a week after the episode in his room.
The one where he’d so easily slipped into an artificial version of himself.
The one where he’d used his fist to pound on some part of his body to escape the pain that was ripping him to shreds inside. I’d heard every strike of that fist. He may as well have been punching me in the gut. To know that I’d done something to cause him to take his rage out on himself had shattered me to my core.
I was always the guy who knew what to do in most any situation. Iknewwhat to do in a medical emergency. Hell, I knew how to deal with just about anything. I’d seen so much death—felt it—that it had grounded me; it had taught me patience, compassion, and the ability to stay calm in any situation. I knew how to take control. Whether it was when my unit had come under heavy fire as I’d treated a fallen brother-in-arms, or when I was explaining to a family what to expect as they watched their loved one take their last breaths.
But Theo… I had no fucking clue how to deal with Theo. Every time I’d managed to steal past the armor he wore around him to shield from the real world, I’d felt that knot inside my belly that had somehow become a fixture within me from the second I’d shaken Theo’s hand loosen just a little bit. Those moments had been like the warm sun caressing my skin or a wisp of cool air dancing across my face.
Then that trap snapped shut and I was once again left in the darkness.
