Page 83 of Pretty When He Bleeds

He jerks and the brush clatters to the floor as he snaps out of whatever trance he was in. His eyes dart around wildly before finally landing on me, and for a second, there’s nothing but raw confusion in them.

Like he doesn’t even know where he is. Like he doesn’t knowme.Fuck, it’s like Caleb all over again.

His chest rises and falls in quick, uneven breaths, his fingers twitching at his sides. He finally blinks, and when he looks at me, it takes him a second to see me. I’ve never hated anything more than the fucking emptiness I see in his eyes right now.

“Hey,” I say, my voice softer now as I cup his face in both my hands. “You with me, baby?”

His brows furrow like he’s trying to piece himself back together. And then, as if the weight of whatever was pulling him under hits him all at once, his knees buckle, and he sinks to the floor.

I catch him before he hits the ground. “Fuck,” I mutter, gripping his shoulders, trying to pull him out of whatever this is. His hands are shaking, smudges of black paint staining my arms as I hold onto him.

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just breathes, unsteady and shallow, his hands twitching against his own thighs.

Then, his voice breaks through the silence. “Why didn’t you come to Caleb’s funeral?”

I freeze and the room goes deathly silent. My whole body locks up, my breath catching in my throat. “What?”

Damon’s eyes are still on his hands, but there’s something lethal in his tone when he repeats it. “Why didn’t you fucking come?” He finally looks up, and there’s a sharp edge to his expression, his green eyes cold and accusing. “You were his best friend. You were supposed to be there.”

I swallow against the lump in my throat, my jaw clenching. “I couldn’t.”

He draws his brows together and his lips part like he wants to say something, but he just stares at me as if he’s searching for something I can’t fucking give him. Then he shakes his head and scoffs under his breath. “That’s it? You couldn’t?”

My chest feels like it’s caving in. “Yeah.”

Damon breathes out, dragging a hand through his hair, smearing paint through his dark curls. “You loved him.”

I flinch. “I know.”

“You were with him for three fucking years.”

My heart stutters. “I know, Damon.”

He stands abruptly, his body tense, his fists clenched at his sides. “Then why the fuck weren’t you there?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, exhaling slowly, trying to push down the way my stomach fucking churns.

Because I saw him.

Because I climbed into his window like I always did.

Because I walked in and—

I get to my feet and shake my head, my throat so fucking tight I can barely get the words out. “I couldn’t, Damon. I—” I break off, raking a hand through my hair, trying to steady myself, but it’s fucking impossible.

“I found him,” I finally say, and Damon stills, his beautiful green eyes widening in shock. But I have to push through. I fuckingneedto tell him.

“I found him,” I repeat, something cracking inside me as I say it out loud to the one person who could break me. “I climbed through his fucking window that night, just like I always used to, and he was just—”

I choke on the words, my breath shuddering. “I saw him, Damon,” I rasp. “Isawhim, and I just—I froze. I couldn’t fucking move. I couldn’t breathe as I watched him swaying. I—” I squeeze my eyes shut and try to catch my breath. “And when I finally did move, I just—” I swallow, shaking my head. “I fucking left.”

Damon doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me, his eyes stormy, like he’s trying to make sense of something that doesn’t make sense at all.

I force a breath into my lungs, barely holding myself together. “And today, when you weren’t answering your phone, when you were so fucking quiet—” I break off, shaking my head as my stomach twists. “I was scared. I was fuckingterrifiedof walking through that door and finding out I was too late again.”

His breath hitches and something flickers in his expression, something raw and painful and too fucking real. For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, finally, he moves.

His grip on my wrists tightens as he yanks me forward, crushing me against his chest, his arms wrapping around me so fucking tight I can barely breathe. I freeze for half a second before I melt into him, my body sagging against his.

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