Cabin Fever | ✓

(57) Are You Seriously About To Strip In The Middle Of The Woods

"What were those years like for you? When you were fifteen and sixteen?"

Marley watched his expression pinch up, "I hung around with nineteen to twenty five year olds, Marley. I went to their parties, I-" he paused and ticked his jaw, "hooked up with their girls. Smoked. Drank. Name something reckless and life endangering and I did it. The shit I went though hit me hard those two years."

Violet. Marley frowned and cursed herself for not considering to ask him about a rebellious streak, which should be a given after trauma like that after such a young age.

"These...parties. They weren't, normal parties were they?" She asked gently, watching his expression soften at the sound of her voice.

"It was around the clock, nonstop. It was burnouts and people who considered partying their full time job. I was at a dark time in my life, but the parties were even darker. Despite that, though, I kept going back because it made me feel numb. And numb was better than the nightmares."

She chewed on her lower lip, "You don't...you'd tell me if you had nightmares now, right?"

His body was relaxed so Marley was soothed by that, "Haven't for the last year and a half. At some point I realized I could fight and I didn't have to be afraid anymore, so they went away."

"You said you realized you could fight?"

He scrawled for a minute or two before he flipped the page over and responded while still scanning said paper, "It was practically a given to see a dozen fights on a good night at the parties I went to. I could hold my own with the help of close friends who liked my deep wallet. But after a while I didn't need them to step in anymore. I realized how good it felt to not be powerless against whoever provoked me or pissed me off, and that if needed I could protect myself and others...that was fuel to be better at fighting. At fifteen I could take down full grown men if I went about it strategically and used my speed to my advantage. And I told you I got into boxing later, too."

This was a whole other chapter of Aiden's past that she doesn't know. She thought knowing about Violet was knowing it all, but it barely scratched the surface. Marley was frustrated that despite knowing him better than most people, he was still a mystery to her.

Remembering something else had her pulse quickening. Leo mentioned weeks ago that Aiden has a past of running out on the people who care about him, even admitting that he's nearly overdosed.

She approached his form, copying his crouch and watching as he methodically retracted another sample with a pained chest, "You...we've never talked about it but...Aiden you almost, overdosed?"

His blue eyes flickered up to lock on hers, but were so distant the contact didn't matter, "I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt myself. I was experimenting and the guys were always egging me on." He paused to slide the last sample they needed in her bag, the clipboard in as well before he was grabbing her hand and lifting her to her feet, "I was too young to want to do anything else but fit in and forget."

He released her hand to glance down at the map, the bag over his shoulder, as he studied it critically. He turned on his heel nonchalantly, while she reeled from yet another whiplash that is Aiden Matthews' complicated past.

"Wait." Marley grabbed Aiden's arm and he turned immediately, folding the map and pulling her into his arms by her waist, his blue eyes giving her every ounce of his undivided attention. She curled his jacket in her fingers tightly, eyes scanning over his face carefully to catch every movement.

"You don't do that anymore, right? The-the drugs?"

Aiden was shaking his head immediately, nothing deceiving about his expression, "Of course not. Even when I did...last year, I never allowed it to become an addiction. I regret being involved in all that in the first place anyway, given it meant I wasn't there for Ian."