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“Two evils.”
“What’s the second evil?” His brow furrows, and God, I don’t want to tell him about this. I’m already in it, though, and I can’t see a way out.
“A nightmare.”
“Daisy…there’s no fucking way a nightmare is as bad as a seizure.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I don’t know—I don’tknow?” He takes a breath. Releases it. His hands don’t shake at all. “Yes. I do.”
“You, like,reallydon’t.”
“Yes, I do,” he bursts out. “I was there the other night. I saw everything.”
I’d pull back from him, but that would mean letting the sun in. My body doesnotwant to be in the sun. “Which night?”
“The night you got shot at. Shane was still here when I got in. You were having yourfifthfucking seizure.”
“Youlied.”
“Yeah! I lied. I’d have done the same thing for anybody in my—I’d have done the same thing for anyone. Nobody wants to be seen at their worst.”
“That’s not my worst.”
He freezes, his eyes going wide. “So you’d rather do this. Jesus Christ.”
Hercules takes his hands away from my eyes so quickly that they squeeze shut on instinct. Then I’m up, in his arms, and he folds my face into his shoulder without asking permission. He swears once for every step he takes all the way back to my house.
He only stops once, his arms tense. “Fuck.”
Then we’re inside. Hercules deposits me on the couch and takes out his phone. The house goes dark. No light. It feels so good, and it’s not right, because I’ll fall asleep. A flash almost blinds me again. It’s his phone. He’s sending a message.
“What are you doing?”
“Texting Shane to get his people on the beach.”
“Why? I’m in here.”
“Because somebody else is out there, and I want to know who it is. Bad things happen in threes, and I need to know if this is the second.”
“Why don’t you go—” The couch dips, and then Hercules takes my face in his hands. His legs go on either side of mine. All my nerves spark. We can’t do this. But, like…we can. I’m not sure I’m fully awake. “What are you doing?”
“Talk,” he demands. “What are you so afraid of?”
“I don’t want to have a nightmare. I said that before. I don’t want it.” Nervousness gathers at the base of my spine. “I don’t have nightmares if I have an attack. It’s so simple.”
“…you know that your brain candiefrom seizures, right?”
“Wow. I never knew. Thank you for telling me. Also, thanks for lying about—”
“I got here when I got here. I should’ve told you about it, but I didn’t. That’s my fault. But this?” His hands hint at shaking my face. “This is fucked up. Is this why you’re in California? Because of some dreams? I’m pretty sure your family can handle that.”
“They can’t. And honestly, it’s none of your business if I’d rather choose a little pain over a horrendous nightmare.”
“It is my fucking business.” He leans in so close I can almost feel his lips on mine. I’d barely have to move my head to kiss him. To bite him. To stopthinkingabout his lips and take action. “Jesus, Daisy. If you want pain, there are other ways to get that than killing yourself.”
“Like what?”
