Page 97 of All In Good Time
This was all much easier before. Before, he would walk into her room and lay next to her in the dark as he said everything he needed, or they would just lay in silence. Now, she didn’t know what he needed, and the light on the ceiling felt like a spotlight on the interaction, making it harder to tell what he wanted.
Derek was her favorite book—the one she could quote from, the one she could predict. The times that he came and wanted silence were easy to read—his body would shift away, his eyes would avoid hers. She knew when he needed just her presence and nothing else.
But this wasn’t one of those times.
He didn’t turn away. He held her gaze with such intensity, she was the one tempted to avert her eyes. She didn’t, though, because Derek didn’t want silence now. He just wasn’t willing to be the one to break it.
“Tell me what you need,” she said, her voice gently laying the offering before him.
He took a deep breath. “They came to the house again. Child Protective Services.”
Becca’s hand clenched around her messy comforter, trying to control the trembling. This topic frightened her, because it originated with her. Derek made it clear that he didn’t want her help, he didn’t want her input, he didn’t want anyone else involved. She saw how he reacted the last time, and a fear sparked inside her that this was just another order to stay away.
But he didn’t continue. He waited, watching her for a response. In the past, she would have begged him to ask them for help. Now, she realized that was exactly what had gotten her into this mess. She swallowed. “What are you going to do?”
Finally, his eyes moved away, and his hands rose to cover his face. “There’s nothing Icando.”
Becca’s heart dropped. It killed her to see him like this—it always had and it always would. In the light and in the dark, she wanted to take away his pain. She wanted to fix it all.
She knew now that she couldn’t do that.
Her hand gripped harder onto the blankets, resisting the urge to wrap herself around him and hold him.
Her lips stung where her teeth bit into them, and tears pricked at the corners.
“If we do anything,anything, and my dad finds out…” He trailed off, lifting his eyes to reveal the red rings around them. The ones that she only ever saw in the dark. “You have no idea how it’s been. He’s holding it in—everything. It seems better, but he’s going to get worse and worse and worse, and then he’ll hear something like this, and it will all go to shit. I can’t sleep, I can’t chew, I can barely breathe there without worrying when he will explode.”
Becca’s mouth was full of ash, and a boulder dragged her down, down, down.
She did this.Derek was miserable because of her.
She may not be the one who beat him down or held such nuclear rage that could explode after just months of being contained, but Derek had asked her to stay quiet. She’d promised she would. He told her why, and she’d said she understood.
It turned out she didn’t actually understand. She would never fully understand what it was like to live like Derek did.
If she had, she would never have tried to call for help, she would have never gone against what he wanted—what he needed. Just her silence for his peace.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice broke, and Derek lifted his head.
The guilt on her face had to be as devastatingly obvious as the dread on his.
“Stop,” he said, his hair bouncing as he shook his head.
“But I am. I’m so, so sorry. I should have listened to you when you told me. I should have kept my promise and trusted you.” A tear escaped Becca’s eyes, followed by more and more. “It was selfish. I wanted to save you.”
“Save me?” Derek said, scoffing with painful sarcasm.
Becca flinched as he stood up from the bed, leaving her on the spot alone.
His eyes watered, but his brows drew together as he glared down at her until she withered under his gaze.
Becca tentatively rose, hoping that being closer to him would make this easier.
It didn’t.
He still stood half a head taller than her, and she still had to look up at him. She still wanted to wipe away the tears that fell from his eyes. Her breath still caught.
“I never asked to be saved by you. I never wantedanythingfrom you. Why can’t you see that?” He stepped closer, and the space between them collapsed to only inches. She could smell him—cigarettes and leather and all.
