Page 50 of Damaged

“I’m sorry,” I said shakily. A part of me wished I’d never started this whole thing, but the rest knew if he didn’t lance the wounds inside of him now, he never would. I didn’t know his exact age, but I guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, which meant he’d been carrying the pain inside of himself for more than half his life; probably even longer since he’d been through so many families. I lifted my hand to his cheek and smoothed my fingers over the stubble. When he pushed against my hand, I settled my palm over his entire cheek and jaw. I used my thumb to keep stroking his skin.

“That day was like any other. I’d gone to school, and I’d figured my foster parents had gone to their jobs like always. But when I got home and opened the front door to the house, it was empty. No furniture, no pictures on the wall, no rugs on the floor. Everything upstairs was gone too. The bed in their room, the dresser… everything. All the furniture in my room was gone, but my clothes and personal items were on the floor.”

It was all I could do not to fall apart as he spoke each word. I couldn’t find my voice, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t need words that wouldn’t mean anything. Apologizing or telling him everything would be okay wasn’t what he needed, so I gently tipped his head down and pressed my lips against his forehead. I grasped his face with both my hands and carefully pressed my forehead against his. Dalton pulled my body against his and tightened his grip. The move didn’t frighten me, but it spoke volumes about the internal battle he was waging.

“They always leave,” Dalton whispered. I could hear his voice breaking. “Always.”

He didn’t say anything else, but it didn’t matter. Those few words had pieces falling into the jigsaw puzzle that was his life.

Neither of us spoke after that. We just held each other. The world around us fell away, but it wasn’t hard to tell when Dalton had fallen asleep because his entire body finally began to relax and his once harsh breaths evened out. His arm, though, the one around my waist, continued to hold me tight against him.

By the time my own eyes began to grow heavy, I wondered which one of us was holding on to the other the hardest. The question went unanswered because it was replaced with another.

One I didn’t want the answer to.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

What would happen to Dalton when I was forced to join the long list of people who’d left him?

Chapter 17

DALTON

He’s still here.

That was my first thought the moment the fog of sleep began to clear.

My second thought was a harsh reminder.

He’s going to leave just like all the others.

Wasn’t I supposed to be relieved by that? It meant I could go back to my quiet life of solitude. I could drink and swallow pills whenever I wanted. There would be no one to stop me. No one to care if I drank just a little too much or swallowed a few too many extra pills one night and never woke up again.

No one to miss me.

No one for me to miss.

I thought about everything I’d told Silver, who was holding me just as tight as I’d been holding him. I’d admitted things to him that I’d never told another soul.

Not even Jace, a man I considered my best friend. I supposed he might miss me for a little while, but he had a new life and family who would rightfully need all of his attention. Eventually the memory of me would disappear like ashes in the wind.

Why did that hurt now? No, I hadn’t gotten to live the life I’d planned on for so long, but what did it matter? I’d adjusted to my new life and I was living it. Well, I had been living it up until the moment that I’d spied a young man, beaten but not broken, walking alone in the pouring rain.

I carefully looked down so I could study Silver’s face. I couldn’t see much of it because his head was resting on my chest and a lock of his soft hair was blocking what little I could see. It didn’t matter because I’d memorized every detail of him, from his pale skin to his unruly golden-brown hair. I’d been mesmerized by his beauty long before the bruises on his face had healed, but it had been his spirit, his will to survive, that had called out to me. From the moment he'd started stripping in the gas station parking lot so he wouldn’t have to take my sweats or any other thing from me, I’d been so fucking humbled by his courage.

Over the past couple of weeks I’d seen how hard he worked, how thoughtful he was and how truly strong he was. I’d given him every reason to leave but instead, he’d bluntly stated the things I’d never had the strength to.

He’ll still leave.

I’d tried to ignore the incessant voice that kept reminding me of what I already knew to be true. I’d tried to convince myself that I’d only kept Silver around because of what he’d done for Jace, Caleb, and little Willa, but it was just another lie. I couldn’t blame it on my intense sexual attraction to him either because I hadn’t touched him in two weeks and yet he was all I thought of. I wanted him to be the first thing I saw every morning and the last thing I saw every night before I closed my eyes. I was a grown man, yet there were always these little butterflies in my stomach and my breath would catch when he entered the room.

I had feelings for him.

Strong ones.

Ones I’d never had before, not even for Jace, who I’d once thought myself to be in love with.

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