Page 24 of Still Beating

The repugnant scent of Earl’s body odor invades me, and I finally open my eyes to see him approaching us with his weapon. Dean slips out of me, but his left hand is still on my wrist, and his right has glided from my ass and landed on my hip. He’s still holding me, soaking me up for as long as he can. I feel him lift his head from my shoulder, but I twist my body to the side, unable to look him in the eyes. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“This isn’t a romantic morning after, you dumb fuck. Get the fuck over to your corner before I blow you away.”

Earl’s voice sears me, and I’m left empty and hollow. But nothing leaves a void more than Dean releasing my wrist and stepping away from me. His touch lingers on my skin, and I can still feel him tracing my artery, leaving more of himself behind than he’ll ever know. My wrist tingles and hums in the wake of his absence.

When I finally brave a look in Dean’s direction, his pants are newly secured around his waist and Earl is fastening his chains.

We have returned to our former positions.

But as sticky warmth drips down my thighs and Dean’s tears mingle with the sweat on my skin, I know we are not the same.

We will never be the same again.

Chapter Seven

“Dean.”

His name on my tongue echoes loud and grating throughout the quiet room, and yet, Dean pretends he doesn’t hear me. He doesn’t move or blink or flinch. He just sits there, slumped against his pole, facing as far away from me as he can.

“Dean,” I repeat.

Nothing.

I sigh with my chin to my chest, my eyes closing. It’s probably been an hour since… well, since it happened. He retreated back to his dark corner, then retreated into himself.

He hasn’t said a word to me. He hasn’t even looked at me.

“Can you please talk to me?” I try. I can’t imagine spending the rest of the day removed and isolated from the only other person who understands what I’m going through.

Dean finally rolls his shoulders with a soft humming sound.

Proof of life, at least.

“I’m not mad, Dean. You did what you had to do, and I underst—”

“I can’t, Cora. Please.”

The sadness in his tone almost breaks me. He sounds defeated for the very first time. “Don’t shut me out. I can’t do this alone.” I choke on the last word and my chest burns with a longing to maintain our blossoming connection.

He’s all I have.

Dean slowly shakes his head, lowering his eyes to the floor. “I can’t even look at you.”

I suck in a choppy breath. I can’t reach him right now. He is lost to his own demons and regret and impossible decisions.

It’s true that I’m not mad. Dean had a gun to his head and both of our lives were hanging in the balance. There was only one way out, and I told him to take it.

And maybe I’m going just a little bit numb.

I close my eyes and lie back, forcing myself to give him the space he needs. There will be time to talk through it—when he’s ready.

All we have is time.

Evening has fallen and our nightlight has been extinguished.

It’s been hours.Hours.

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