Page 18 of The Wrong Drive

“I can just take the band aid off,” she laughs, her voice light. She’s trying so hard not to be a burden, and I almost feel guilty for what I told her earlier. But it’s the truth. I didn’twanther to be here. I still don’treallywant her here, but here she is.

And I want to touch her again.

“I’ll do it.”

Emersyn stills, and I notice the darkened spot on her sweater from the water at the sink. “Okay, fine.” She approaches me, stopping a foot away and extending her injured hand.

Heart pounding in my ears, I take her wrist in my hand and peel back the bandage with the other. She doesn’t wince, and I take in the burned flesh around the closed gash, the sight beckoning me backward. I don’t hear what she says then. All I hear is the click of a magazine and screams lighting up in my ears, exhilaration taking over body. My mouth grows dry, and my gut furls with impending excitement.

I should tell her to run. Run as far and as fast as she can.

I drop her hand as Gunner’s collar jingles, and within seconds, he’s there, pawing at my leg. I blow out a sharp breath, and the desire to play war fades from my mind. Gunner’s whine replaces my mind’s chaos as I stroke the black fur on his head.

“Are you okay?” her voice comes next, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to tell her. No one ever asks me that. Not anymore.

“Yeah, he just needs to go out,” I clear my throat, avoiding her gaze as I lead him toward the back door. The back porch is screened in, and while it’s cold as fuck, duty calls. Gunner has to do his business on artificial turf, but it’s better than nothing. I swing the door open, the sharp winds whipping through the house.

I don’t look back at her as I step outside with my dog. I don’t think she has any idea of the threat looming here. It’s better that she doesn’t. I take a long breath. The way the sharp breeze cuts through my shirt reminds me that I’m still fucking alive, and I close my eyes. Having her here is a good exercise of self-control, and I could use the restraint training. Maybe sheisa challenge.

“Do you want a coat?” Emersyn sticks her head out the door, her nose scrunched up. “It’s freezing out here.”

I shake my head. “No.”

Her green eyes tug at me, and grief of my reality threatens to take hold. She’s got this new way of making me not like being a trigger-happy lunatic. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you should go to bed.” My tone is rough, and borderline condescending. I know I sound like an asshole, but she doesn’t realize I thought of killing her a few minutes ago.

“I’m not really tired.”

I glare at her, shaking my head. “I didn’t ask if you were tired.”

She doesn’t say anything to that, and as the winds howl and snow blows, she disappears back inside. The door closes quietly, and I stay outside with Gunner for a few moments longer, letting him finish. He’d been a gift from my brother when I was discharged…

And I wonder, if even from six feet under, he still thinks the damn dog would fix me.

“If he only knew,” I grunt, my eyes casting out toward the place where all my sins are buried beneath the snow. I zone out for a few beats, and then when my fingers grow numb, I head back inside, taking in the room.

Her bags are gone, and my guess is that she lugged them to my room. The only signs of her are the pair of jeans and women’s hiking shoes by the fire. She missed those. My eyes dart down the hallway as I pass it, making my way to the kitchen. I turn the light off, and let the house fall into darkness aside from the fire—but even that is dying down.

Checking the time, it’s late enough I could sleep. However…That’s also when the worst of my urges have always started. It all starts with me going to bed, and then I wake up, lost in my head.

With another warm body in the house, will it trigger me?

I eye the bedroom door and then glance back at Gunner. If I have any shot of not killing her, I need the bottle of pills from the nightstand. I haven’t slept since Emersyn arrived, and things will only get worse if I keep putting it off.

I’ll just have to go get them.

Because you know, of course, being sleep deprived can be a trigger, too. Fuck, in the right setting,anythingcan set me off, especially when I’m on edge. I take in a deep breath and push forward, heading down the hallway to the bedroom door. I knock twice on the door, and then wait.

Within seconds, it swings open, Emersyn in the threshold. She peers up at me, curiosity in her gaze. The low light dancesacross her face, mixing with shadows, but I can see make out the light splash of freckles on her face. She’s growing on me. And I know that’s a bad thing. She clears her throat—and I realize I’ve been staring at her like a fucking creep.

“I just need to get something,” I say, eyeing her as she steps to the side. “Then I’ll be upstairs for the rest of the night.” I don’t know why I tell her that, and honestly, I’m starting to get loose lipped with her.

“You really don’t have to sleep on the floor,” she reasons. “I can sleep on the couch or something.”

“I don’t sleep a lot, so it’s fine.” I make my way to the nightstand, ripping it open and pulling out the bottle of sleeping pills. “And with these, I can sleep anywhere.” I mean it as a joke, but it comes out so fucking flat that she just stares at me blankly.

Jeez, I’m bad at this.Gripping the bottle, I shut the drawer, and head back for the door.

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