"I said to return his heart, not break it." The skeletal beast laughed in spite, rattling the chains wrapped around his motorcycle as he leaned on the handlebars. Those jagged teeth jutted outwards as his smile grew monstrous in nature, "You're making this far too easy for me, darling. Do you want him to die?"
No, of course not! It wasn't my fault that Dustin wanted something I couldn't offer. Whether my decision held intelligence or not, it at least held respect. Maybe Jake was cheating on me, everyone else seemed to think so, but he's innocent until proven guilty and I have no substantial evidence to do so at this time.
The beast climbed off his bike, strolling towards me with a jingle of metal against worn out leather, "You keep telling yourself that. At this rate, you and Dustin will both be mine long before you ever come to terms with what you know has already happened."
My focus on the beast faded away, his words echoing in my ears while my eyes trailed on a sight most gruesome. Dustin, still nestled on his throne, but coated in a color I knew all too well.
The thorns piercing his skin were gone, returned to the wood from whence they came. But their carnage remained, grisly holes gaping in random positions throughout his body. The amount of blood gushing from these holes was alarming, pooling on the ground at Dustin's feet. With each second that passed, he paled further, and soon no blood was left.
A deep, malicious snarl sounded from behind me, then the beast stomped past my trembling body as he made haste for Dustin. Once in reach, the creature collapsed to his knees, splashing blood onto his clothes and boney face.
He cupped his hands, lowered them into the crimson pool at his knees, then lifted his overflowing hands to his lips where the blood flowed past the beast's mouth and down his throat. A satisfied moan escaped him, ringing clearly throughout the darkness around us. A reptilian tongue darted out, licking up the remaining blood that dribbled down his chin.
But he didn't stop there. A moment later the beast rose to his feet almost frantically, jerked Dustin's arm out to the side, and bit into the fleshy part of Dustin's forearm.
Then ripped the skin free with his teeth.
I'd like to say I've grown numb to such repulsive displays, especially in this dreamworld from hell. But I haven't, and my chest ached at seeing Dustin's limited reaction to having his arm be stripped free from flesh. He didn't wince or cry out, he remained silent. Desolate and distant in both mind and emotion.
I looked away, hiding myself from this morbid sight. But even with my eyes cast downward, I heard a moist laugh sound from the beast, "Haven't you learned yet? You can ignore this all you want but the end remains the same." He smiled and blood dripped off his teeth like molasses, "You can't save him. And you can't save yourself."
*****
I woke up extremely late, lagging into consciousness due to my lovely nightmare that's taken up consistent residence in my mind. The sun was high in the sky by the time I managed to crack my eyes open, effectively halting that grisly display of blood and gore.
Or did it? By waking up, I was simply trading one nightmare for another; one imaginative blood soaked Dustin for the one from my reality.
Though I couldn't see Dustin from where I lay on the couch, I could hear him. Low and steady breaths at regular intervals, deep and inherent. He was still asleep, as he should be. Out of everyone at this damn compound, Dustin deserved a restful sleep more than us all. Especially after what he went through yesterday.
Slowly I stood up and folded the blanket, draping it over the back of the couch, mostly to waste time before chancing a peek at Dustin. He was laying on his stomach, his head turned towards the side with his hands buried beneath his pillow. Even from where I stood, I saw the dark bruises growing along the length of his body.
They were darker than ever and the very sight was far too similar to the Dustin of my dreams. Bruised and broken, afflicted by so much pain and anguish. It's a miracle his body hasn't given in to the injuries yet.
He shifted in his sleep, snuggling his head deeper into the pillow with a quiet groan that set my heart beating just a little faster than before. When he settled once more, I tiptoed to the door to keep from waking him, and slipped out.
In the lobby, I found only a few members. Most of them must still be sleeping. The ones that were awake looked ... eerie. They sat in silence, stooped over a drink or two as they stared off into the distance, wide eyed and blank faced.
From their reaction, and from Dustin's mood last night, I can only assume our Vice lost the fights. But it didn't matter whether he won or not. At least, not to me. Whatever the outcome, it wouldn't change the way I thought about him.
The lobby was musky, mildew hung in the air and suffocated the residents, clinging to their skin and bringing droplets of perspiration to their skin. Most of the men sitting at the bar didn't seem to notice, then again, most of them didn't appear in their right state of mind. But I was and I needed fresh air, free from this rot.
I stepped out the front doors of the warehouse, into the bright light of another passing day. Though the sun was high, a soft mist loitered in the distance and floated along the grass as it rolled through the hills.
Out here, more people were up and moving. Some members grouped around their bikes, talking nonchalantly about casual matters. Other members spilled from the garage area where most of them were taking this lazy Monday as an opportunity to fix their motorcycles before business as usual began tomorrow.
I didn't see Donovan amongst his people. But a quick glance through his office window told me our leader sat at his desk, head held in his hands as the Hag stood idle behind him, her grip resting lightly on his shoulders.
"Morning." A supine voice called to me. My gaze swung sideways to see Lumiere lounging in his typical chair with his sunglasses on. Just like when I first met him. He smiled and held up two mugs of coffee, still steaming from heat, "Care to join me?"
"Always." I responded, gratefully taking a seat beside him as he handed me one of the mugs. It was warm in my grasp, almost painful, but it felt good around my fingers. He clinked his mug against mine in cheers, and I nodded towards the patch of purple reaching up his face from the edge of his jaw, "Nice shiner."
He tipped his mug towards me with a smirk, "Right back at you, kid."
Lumiere has been the first to mention the slight bruise across my upper cheek from where Andy slapped me. It's wasn't a large bruise, nor was it any more painful than the others I've experienced while being here, but being exhibited across the front of my face made it seem worse than it actually was.
"So, tell me ..." I began, almost afraid to ask my next question, " ... did Dustin lose?"
Lumiere dropped his head against the back of his chair, bracing his coffee mug against his thigh as he slouched, "No ... Dustin won the whole damn thing." He turned his face in my direction though it didn't seem like he was looking at me directly, "Did you have any doubt in our Vice?"
My mouth sputtered "Well no but ... if Dustin won, why is everyone sulking?"
A sigh heaved from his lungs, his chest concaving as the air was released. Only a moment passed but it felt much longer, especially once the smile faded from Lumiere's face, "Dustin killed someone."
Chills washed through me, causing my blood to run cold in my veins. He killed someone ... he took someone's life.
So last night, when Dustin said he'd spare me from his nightmare ...
He remembered how devastated I was after killing that Reaper, how that burden nearly crushed me. So instead of sharing the horrors of what he'd done, he hid it away to save me from any further suffering.
"What happened?" My voice was no louder than a whisper, holding no affirmative strength in the question.
Lumiere rubbed at his eyes beneath his sunglasses, scrubbing away the exhaustion, "The fights went on as they usually do, Dustin kicked ass and moved up in the ranks throughout the day. One bastard cheated, cut the Vice up pretty good, but Dustin got him back. The Reapers dropped out in one of the last rotations, losing to a gang up north. But in that last fight ..." He paused, shaking his head as if that would change the outcome.
"Go on." I encouraged.
"Rosen." Lumiere spit his name, holding nothing but disdain for the monster of a man, "When Dustin entered the ring for that last fight, the outcome was already in place. The guy attacked Dustin, he was wearing brass knuckles. So Dustin threw a punch, just one ..."
The coffee mug shook in his hand, Lumiere was livid. For the sake of hearing the rest, I set my mug down and took Lumiere's hand in mine to will serenity into him. I needn't say a thing, my actions were enough.
He sighed again, sucking at his teeth in aggravation, "Dustin only punched him once. The guy's nose shattered and a few of the bone shards got lodged in his brain." Lumiere pulled his hand from from mine quite roughly, "Doc was there, so were other medics. They could have helped, they could have saved him. But Rosen wouldn't allow it, he got into the ring and wasted time with pointless chatter. Dustin tried getting to the guy but by the time Rosen authorized assistance, it was too late."
My mind reeled, "But ... but it wasn't Dustin's fault. Rosen was the one who let the guy die, Dustin tried to help-"
"It doesn't matter. Dustin threw the punch so he's held responsible." Lumiere said this through gritted teeth then abruptly chucked the coffee mug across the lot in a fit of rage, drawing eyes from those around us when the mug shattered loudly at the other end of the compound, "It's as good as losing, that's why everyone is sulking. Dustin is in some very deep shit."
"How can he be blamed for this? Everyone saw Rosen." I argued, feeling almost defensive of Dustin's innocence. If not for the tribe's sake, then for Dustin's. He's ruined over this, that much I witnessed last night when he returned. He was a mess, completely beside himself with grief. I assumed it was because he was still angry with me.
How could I have been so selfish to think such a thing?
"I admire your faith, Sadie, but things don't work that way around here. As Vice, he's obligated to accept such treachery." Lumiere said, his jaw clenched. He was angry, both because of what happened and because of who it was happening to, "Dustin doesn't deserve this. He never wanted any of this, not the title, not the Tribe-"
A memory came forward, from the night I killed that Reaper. I had asked why he wanted to hurt Dustin, to which the Reaper replied how new I must be if I didn't know what Dustin did. At the time, I thought nothing of it, I was too preoccupied with keeping myself and Corinth alive. But now, after hearing Lumiere's confession, it all began adding up even though Dustin's past was a mystery.
I was missing something though, one last little piece.
"What do you mean?" I wondered, speaking in hushed tones to calm Lumiere and to limit the possibility of being overheard, "Dustin never wanted to be Vice?"
Lumiere noticed my intrusive question and gave me that look I've become all too familiar with, "We both know Dustin wouldn't want me telling-"
"Please! We have a deal remember?" I replied quickly, leaning closer, "I ask, you answer. Besides, everyone seems to know about it. Everyone except for me and ..." My lungs inflated with a deep breath and held it in when my next words were freed, "I want to be able to help him."
Lumiere was doubtful, "And just how do you plan on doing that?"
"I don't know, I don't even know if it's possible. But I want to try." My eyes met his with assurance, "I can't do that if I don't know what he's been through."
"Sadie, it will take me the rest of our lives to tell you everything he's been through."
"Lumiere, please." I wasn't quite begging but I was well on my way. This was important. I didn't want to know for my own benefit as I had when Lumiere and I started this arrangement. Now I want to know with the honest intentions of being able to help Dustin. It's a long shot but if I better understand him and his past, maybe I can help with his future.
Lumiere watched me a while longer, examining every inch of my face, looking for signs of deception. But eventually, I saw him crack and his head hung forward, his essence taken over by sorrow, "Like I said, Dustin never wanted the title of Vice. In all honesty, he never should have gotten it either."
Wow, that's a little ... harsh. Especially coming from Lumiere. He claimed to be Dustin's best friend but that didn't sound like something a 'friend' would say. Lumiere saw the shock on my face at his words and he waved a hand lethargically, "I didn't mean it like that."
"Well if he didn't want it, how did he get it?"
"The title was passed to him." He monitored my reaction when he said, "His family has been in charge of the Tribe for a very long time. Dustin's father was the leader before Donovan."
My teeth gritted together to keep my jaw from hanging slack. I shouldn't be surprised, all the signs pointed towards this result, but I'd be lying if I said shock eluded me. I nodded slowly, using this as an excuse to wrap my head around what Lumiere just voiced, "Uh huh, okay. Yeah. Sure. Got it."
Lumiere feigned praise, "Wow. Smooth."
I narrowed my eyes, "Thank you. Please continue."
He removed the sunglasses from his face, tossing them aside without much care about where they landed, "When a family is in rule, positions get passed along from oldest to youngest meaning the title of Vice should have gone to Dustin's brother."
This time shock hit me full force without any way to hide it, and I almost fell out of my chair, "Dustin has a brother?"
Lumiere's words were hollow, "Not anymore."
My eyes closed briefly. I should have expected this.
Lumiere cleared his throat, possibly to bring back his voice, "Dustin had two brothers, Noah and Charlie. Since Noah was the oldest, he should have become Vice. Then Charlie after him, and Dustin after that. But sometimes the hierarchy isn't followed in correct order."
My ears caught the meaning behind Lumiere's words, "Why did the title go to Dustin?"
The remorse devouring Lumiere's gaze turned dark, furious while still dismal. I was so used to Lumiere's cheerful, carefree manner but this wasn't anything like the man I've come to know. This resentment and sadness crowded those emerald eyes, blocking out the light.
"Noah was murdered." Lumiere said quietly.
This time I did fall out of my chair.
He gave me a strange stare from where I now sat on the pavement next to an overturned lawn chair before he shook his head, "Maybe we should stop for now-"
I scrambled back into my seat, pulling roughly at his arm, "No I'm okay, see? Please, keep going. Noah was murdered ..." I prompted this last part, hoping it was enough to maintain his resolve to explain Dustin's past. My efforts were confirmed.
Lumiere wilted in his seat, sinking in on himself, "It wasn't just Noah. The whole family was murdered, except for Dustin."
I let my mouth gape open, "How? What happened?"
His gaze didn't quite meet mine when he answered, "A girl happened."
My mouth snapped shut ... I wasn't expecting that one, "A girl?"
Lumiere nodded, "Believe it or not, there was once a time when Dustin wasn't blindly devoted to the Tribe. There was a time when he was willing to leave all of this behind just to be with the girl he loved."
My eyebrows shot up, and I couldn't explain the odd pang in my heart, "I don't understand ..."
"Her name was Katrina. Dustin met her during our freshmen year in high school but it took him two years to find the courage to ask her out." Lumiere looked down towards the floor, he was smiling fondly at a memory I hadn't the luxury of knowing, "I've known Dustin since first grade, and I have never seen him as happy as when he was with Katrina. They were inseparable I tell you, they went everywhere together. It was rather annoying actually."
He ended that last sentence in forgotten joy, reminiscent of a time he didn't know he missed. My head tilted at that tone, "But ... they didn't stay together?"
Lumiere's smile vanished and was replaced with a grim frown, "No. They didn't." His body tensed, muscles locking, and he folded his hands in his lap as if he were discussing a business proposal rather than this atrocious tale of bloodshed, "You have to understand something, Sadie. In our world, tradition is law. And tradition says responsibility comes before all else. Before family and before love. So when Dustin went to his father with plans of moving away so he could start a life of his own with Katrina, tradition stepped in."
The shiver that crept down my spine just then brought goosebumps to the surface of my arms, "Do you mean-"
Lumiere's voice didn't waver when he said, "Katrina was killed."
Oh god, her too?
"Dustin's father wanted to make an example for the rest of his crew. So one night, while Katrina was visiting Dustin, Noah and Charlie held Dustin down and ... and their father carved out Katrina's heart." Lumiere didn't blink, didn't breathe, "Right in front of Dustin."
My stomach churned at those words, and I held a hand over my mouth to both hold down my my last meal and to muffle the gasp that escaped me. Lumiere's hands twisted tighter in his lap and the amount of misery in his eyes was heartbreaking, "I've seen Dustin go through a lot of shit but being forced to watch that ... it destroyed him."
My own hands were shaking, "So then ..." I didn't want to ask this, " ... did Dustin kill his own family, for what they did?"
Lumiere shook his head, "Dustin's brother's were a lot of things but above all, they were soldiers. They were a product of how they were raised, always following orders. Dustin has only ever blamed his father for what happened that night. And the weeks after." I saw Lumiere lick his lips nervously, as if he were reliving those moments so long ago, "But what no one knew, not even Dustin's father, was that Katrina came from another gang."
I blanched and if I weren't sitting, my legs would have buckled by now. I gripped the armrests on either side of my hips, curling my fingers around the plastic in an attempt to expel my uncontrollable nerves, "You mean the rivalry ..."
Lumiere nodded without the conscious decision to do so, his concentration lost to the memories he no doubt recalled in that moment, "Katrina was Rosen's daughter, his only daughter. You see, back then there wasn't a rivalry. Dustin and Katrina thought that if they were to get married, it would merge the two gangs." He leaned back in his seat to relieve some of the stress on his shoulders, closing his eyes, "When Rosen discovered that his daughter had been brutally murdered, he came looking for retribution."
I already knew where this story was heading, yet I still wasn't prepared to hear Lumiere's next words.
"Rosen and his six sons stormed the warehouse, herded Dustin's family into a room, and killed them off one by one." Lumiere's voice cracked in the middle, "They killed Dustin's mom first as a way to be merciful since she held no part in Katrina's murder. But Rosen took his time on Dustin's brothers, tortured them for hours and finished them off once they were too weak to scream."
My throat closed, " ... and Dustin's father?"
Lumiere's voice had fallen to a whisper, no strength lingered to speak any louder, "They ripped him apart. By the time Rosen was done with him, there wasn't much left."
My heart was pounding, causing my pulse to thunder in my ears, "And Dustin?"
Lumiere ran his fingers through his hair, the term 'distressed' didn't begin to cover what I saw rolling over him, "Rosen knew Dustin treated Katrina as good as any man could, and for that Rosen spared his life." Lumiere sighed yet again, shaking his head in defeat, "But they should have killed him. Death would have been less painful than what Dustin had to go through."
Absentmindedly, my eyes drifted towards Dustin's room where he was still recovering. I've been thinking the worst of him for so long, tying his anger to an inability to control himself. I've been hating him for what he did to me, for kidnapping me. But it wasn't his fault. After all he's endured, it was no wonder he acted like he didn't care about anyone or anything. Because the last time he cared about someone, he watched them die. First with Katrina, then again with his family.
"So that's the reason for the rivalry?" I whispered, looking for something more. Something that would make all of this better.
But nothing could make it better.
Lumiere scratched at his head, "Mostly."
One eyebrow rose.
"Technically, everything was settled. Katrina was dead, her murderers were dead, everything was in balance. But the Reapers were still bitter, as was the Tribe. They blamed each other for the deaths of their members. Tensions were high and ..." He stopped to give the smallest of laughs, "Well, would you believe me if I told you I wasn't always a Tribe member? Back in the day, I was a part of the Reapers, born and raised."
His confession left me dumbfounded and at a loss for words.
He chuckled at my reaction, "Yeah, I know. Hard to believe. Katrina and I were friends through the gang but Dustin and I were friends through school. When they got together, I thought we were in for a better life. But after all the hostilities, my gang hated the Tribe. More so, they hated Dustin." He shrugged to himself, twiddling his thumbs around one another, "But he was my best friend."
A small headache grew at the crown of my head and dispersed outwards, "What does this have to do with the rivalry?"
Lumiere grimaced, "My father was a strongly opinionated man, and an abusive coward. I've taken a fair share of punches in my time but when my old man found out I was still hanging out with Dustin after what happened with Katrina..." He thought back, "Well, let's just say he wasn't happy. I switched over to the Tribe after that and haven't looked back since."
My sympathy for him heightened when his countenance twisted in an emotion I couldn't quite place. Somewhere between regret and relief, "Is your dad still pissed at you?"
Again, that tormented look passed through him but this time, it came from something much more personal, "No actually. He died last year."
What a surprise, who could have guessed, "How did he die?"
"Oh, come on. You've heard this story." Lumiere became sheepish in a way that made me wary, "It's the only murder Dustin has ever been caught for."
Just then, everything snapped into place. After school on the day I was kidnapped, Kendra and Jake had been telling me about Dustin's incarceration. A body sporting Reaper colors had been found on old highway 57, shot in the face so many times that he was almost unidentifiable, "That was your father? Dustin did that to him?"
Lumiere nodded, "He came looking for me on the anniversary of Katrina's death. He was drunk, like always, and wanted to punish me for switching gangs. When he pulled a gun on me, Dustin pulled his first. We tried hiding the body but Rosen must have known what happened. Jeremy came forward the next day as a witness, but we all know if he had truly seen the crime, he'd be dead." A second later, Lumiere added, "Guess it doesn't matter, he died anyways."
That last part was said to divert the conversation. Lumiere was keeping something from me but at this point, I was too overwhelmed to ask him about it.
My hands were trembling when I buried them in my hair, this was too much. I prepared for hardship, I was expecting a history of despair, but this transpired past what I ever could have imagined. There was so much pain and misery, too much for any one person to bare. So how did Dustin do it? How did he still get up each day after what he's witnessed.
"The rivalry started after that?"
"Officially? Yeah. But the hatred between gangs has been going on since the moment Katrina was killed. Retaliations from both sides have been endless."
"But Katrina was only one person. Rosen killed Dustin's entire family-"
"Responsibility comes before family." Lumiere repeated as if that mantra has been etched into his head for years, "Being the only one left, Dustin's responsibility was to act like a leader but he let his emotions get in the way. Killing my father only confirmed what Rosen already knew, there was no way to mend the gangs after what happened. Even after all this time. It's been four years but nothing has changed. We all put on a brave face but beneath the surface, those old scars will never heal."
I refused to accept that, "But-"
"That's the whole reason why Donovan took over. According to our laws, Dustin rightfully inherited all of his father's responsibilities once he passed, but the Elders were afraid Dustin was too young and vulnerable to lead. So Donovan agreed to take his place until the Inner Circle decides that Dustin is fit to rule."
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on just one darn tooting second ...
"Of course, each leader gets their own Inner Circle so once Dustin takes over and I'm appointed as his Vice, I say we kill every last Reaper member to make up for what they did." Lumiere continued to ramble but I wasn't listening any more.
Dustin isn't supposed to be the Vice of the Tribe ... he's supposed to be the leader. That's why everyone is so terrified of him, why no one will cross him. Why Donovan can't control him. Because one day he'll be in charge with nothing but bloodlust to satisfy. And no one wants to be between the devil and his next victim.
"You okay, Sadie?" Lumiere's voice broke through my thoughts like an axe through ice, his eyes squinting in concern, "You look a bit pale."
My quivering hands rose to rub at my temples, "So you're telling me that Dustin is-"
"Dustin is what?" A deep voice asked from behind us. Lumiere and I both craned our necks backwards to see Dustin standing there, dressed in his jeans from yesterday and an old t-shirt, sipping at his own cup of steaming coffee.
He looked awful. Still handsome but blemished by his injuries. His hair was a mess, his dark blue irises shining purple over the heavy bags under his eyes, and scruff grew along his jawline from several days of neglect. Luckily, his shirt hid most of his bruises though several spilled down the length of his arms and one particular bruise crept up the side of his neck from under the collar of his shirt.
Awful indeed, but sexy as hell.
Lumiere jumped up, offering his seat with a grand gesture, "Good morning, how you feeling?"
Dustin didn't argue and sat down with a slight grumble of pain, rubbing subconsciously at his chest. I spied Lumiere watching him closely, worried. As were we all. From what I saw last night, and now from what Lumiere has told me about the fight yesterday, I'd say Dustin's injuries were far more serious than he wanted people to believe.
"I'm fine." Dustin responded, as always.
For someone who hated liars, he lied like a sinner at confession.
"Morning, Dimples." The Vice said through a wince, rolling his head on his neck. Joints popped, bones cracked.
He's in pain, so much pain. All the time. It started years ago with the death of Katrina and continued with each passing day. How could I have treated him so poorly? He could have killed me that first night, it would have saved him a lot of trouble. And proper regulation calls for all witnesses to be put to death. But Dustin showed me mercy, he gave me a second chance.
He gave me a home.
It wasn't weakness, it was compassion. It was Dustin trying to make up for the savagery of his people, wrongly committed against Katrina.
Under the circumstances, Dustin has been a saint in keeping me safe from this world he's grown accustomed to. I didn't know the dangers lurking here, but Dustin did, and he tried them anyways to keep me protected. After all the death he's seen and all the injustice done unto him, Dustin still found enough kindness in his heart to save a foolish kid.
My penitence nearly ate me alive and I shied back into my seat due to the sheer mass of my transgressions, "Morning."
Dustin's shock didn't go unnoticed. He turned towards me with eyebrows lifted and expression startled, "What, no snarky comeback? No desperate plea for me to go to hell?"
He'd already been to hell. Who was I to ask him to return?
My voice couldn't be trusted so I only gave him a small shrug before I stood and started for the warehouse with Lumiere holding close surveillance. I vaguely heard the Vice asking what was wrong but I slipped through the doors before anymore could be said.
Luckily, most people were either lost to their thoughts or still passed out. Once far enough into the lobby, my gaze drifted upwards to the line of photos resting over the hall doorway. At the end was a mugshot of a man who looked similar to Dustin, the same dark hair and deep blue eyes. Now I knew the significance of the resemblance.
It was Dustin's father.
A sharp pain tore through my chest. Dustin watched the girl he loved die right in front of him – no, not only die, Dustin was forced to watch as his own father carved out her heart. And then to have to watch his entire family get slaughtered ... it's been one bloodbath after another since the moment that sigil was branded onto Dustin's skin. And now he stood against it all, alone. Everyone he's ever cared about is dead. Gone.
Stolen.
What kind of life was that? The photo of Dustin's father glared down upon me and I found myself pitying him from wherever he rested beyond this world. I wasn't sure whether heaven or hell is real, but if they are, I can guess where Dustin's father is.
And he sure as hell isn't looking down on us as his mugshot is.
"Hey, Sadie, wait." Dustin called as he stepped through the front doors of the warehouse. He strolled towards me, limping though he tried to hide it, "Are you okay?"
He still cared even though our argument last night left us both seething. I cleared my throat and crossed my arms to reduce as much exposed body as possible, "Yeah. I'm fine."
He set his cup of coffee down on a nearby table. When he stepped towards me again, I caught a whiff of day old cologne, mixed with the coppery scent of dried blood. And for some bizarre reason, it made my knees weak, "I know we're still ... sorting things out, but let's forget about all of that for a second. What's wrong?"
I forced my eyes away, "Nothing's wrong."
His lips pursed, "You're lying."
"You're annoying." I countered.
He glanced to his left and his right, then glided closer still, bowing his head to maintain a sense of privacy to those around us. His gaze was surprisingly concerned, "I know things haven't been easy the past few days and I suppose a good portion of that is my fault. So if it's an apology you're looking for then consider this my amends. I'm sorry for the way I acted that first night of the ceremony, I was out of line, and drunk. And last night was just a bad situation but I shouldn't have taken it out on you-"
I couldn't bear anymore, "Please stop."
My request processed. I anticipated his heated response to my interruption but it didn't come. Instead he closed his mouth and waited, noting any trace of emotion that presented itself across my face.
My heart wouldn't let me get past these feelings of regret. Dustin may deserve a good kick in the pants every now and then, but he didn't deserve all this torture. He didn't deserve to accept a title he didn't want or to rule over people who thought so little of him. The next generation would be different, Corinth and Eli proved that. But those men out there, the ones who followed Dustin's father and now his uncle, they'll never accept Dustin. Not entirely.
The burden of knowing he'll never be good enough must weigh on him every time he looks into the eyes of his people.
Yet, even with all of this other bullshit going on, here Dustin stands, trying to console a stupid child who has no right to his humanity. I didn't deserve it, any of it. Dustin's charity has been wasted on the likes of me.
I tucked my hair behind my ear, my cheeks burning at his unrelenting stare. He studied my every movement, from the twitch of my fingers to the nervous breath of insecurity, "I'm fine. I just ..."
He waited even longer for my explanation. But when it didn't come, his fingers brushed at my elbow, and his voice came to me, melodic and slow, "Talk to me Sadie, I'm here to listen."
My legs nearly gave out. An inner part of me was begging with an intensity greater than my entire being to pull this poor, broken boy into my arms and never let go. That unexplainable urge grew and grew until I felt myself shaking to keep from doing so.
"Could you do me a favor?" I finally asked. He was nodding before I finished my question. I swallowed nervously, "Do you think ... well, do you think we could go for a ride?"
Astonishment exploded across his face and if he weren't holding onto me, surely he would have stumbled backwards, "Really? You actually want to go for a ride ... with me?"
A trifle grin tugged my lips upwards only enough to display pleasantry, "Is that really so hard to believe?"
"Yes, yes it is." He replied with a fleeting moment of perplexity, then quickly added, "I'm not complaining though, just curious about the sudden change of mind."
More like a change of heart.
I ran my hands down my face to conceal the way my cheeks further tinged red, "I just ... I just need to get out of here for a while. It's been so long since I've been outside the compound. I think a change of scenery could be good." Not a total lie.
Dustin laughed knowingly, obviously recognizing the feeling from personal experience. His grip on my elbow became stronger, more comfortable and confident. Then he nodded and graced me with a dazzling smile that stole my breath, "Sure, Dimples. I know just the place."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Friday updates!! How we feeling, what we thinking?
Next chapter (almost entirely written btw) is one of my favorites ;)
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Thanks again my darlings!
xoxo