Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) (7 page)

This wasn’t an escape. It was real life. Dirty, gritty, magnificent.

Dare was mine.

I was his.

And I was never letting him go. Ever again.

eight

A
s we lay on the bed in her tiny hostel room, our bodies woven together and our breaths flowing in unison, all I could think about was the pain I’d seen in her eyes when she’d spotted me down by the front desk.

My heart had never hurt like this before. It had never cared so much for someone, nor been so deeply affected. Ree and I had started out as two fucked up, wounded parts who completed each other and made one another whole. But there was only so much pain two broken parts could stand before cracking. Eventually, healing had to take place.

I had to heal Ree. Or, really, I had to make her understand that she needed it.

I reached up and brushed a damp strand of hair off her face. There was a tiny spark of contentment in her eyes, but it was gone before it had a chance to light the rest of her face.

She sank her teeth into her lower lip. “What’s wrong?”

“Ree…” Her name was just a whisper as I traced her jawline with my thumb, slowly making my way up to her lip so I could free it. I was about to cross into dangerous territory. One wrong word could make me lose her again.

Panic flooded her face—I needed to just spit it out.

“We can’t keep doing this,” I said quietly.

“Don’t say that, Dare. Don’t you fucking say that.” She placed her hands on my chest and tried to push away from me, but I tightened my arms around her, keeping her close.

“Wait. Just listen.” I took a deep breath. “Listen to me, please.”

Fuck. This was going to be hard.

“You need help. Those pills will destroy you.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing, what I was saying. Every muscle in my body hurt from strain. I was wound so tightly, full of so many emotions. “I can’t fix you. I wish I could, but I can’t.” I took a deep breath. “I’ve tried before…with my mom…but it’s not—”

“I’m
not
like your mom.” She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “I can’t believe you think that about me. I’m not a druggie.” Her voice shook as she spoke. “I’ve never used those kinds of—”

“Drugs are drugs, Ree. It doesn’t matter if it’s heroin or those pills you take. You need to learn to deal with life without them.”

Her voice softened as she glanced up at me and said, “But, I’m fine when I’m with you.” Her fingers brushed my cheek, soft and featherlight. “I’m always fine with you, Dare.”

Goddamn it. It would be so easy to believe her. She was so fucking beautiful.

And beautifully broken.

“Except every time your family rears its ugly head.”

“No, it’s not like that—
I’m
not like that. I’m NOT an
addict
.” Tears glistened in her eyes as she broke from my grasp and scooted up to the headboard, her knees pressing into her chest. “I’m NOT, I’m not, I’m not,” she said, but with each
not
her voice got quieter and quieter as if she believed the words less and less. “I just…sometimes I just don’t want to FEEL. That’s all, Dare. I’ve stopped before. I don’t need it when we’re together. Not usually.”

“Ree, listen to yourself,” I said, not unkindly. “I’ve been through this. I’ve heard all the excuses. And I fucking
love
you. I’ve never said that to anyone before. I’ve never felt this with anyone. You are everything to me. Every-
fucking
-thing. I need you.” I was in front of her now, wrapping my hands around her waist, pulling her onto my lap. “But you have to get well if we’re going to work. Because we’re never going to make it if you keep letting those pills rule your life. Look at everything that has happened already. That’ll be our life if you don’t get better. It will tear us apart.” I pressed my forehead to hers, lowered my voice to a whisper. “I can’t let that happen. I can’t lose you ever again.”

She shivered in my arms, her expression so wounded I expected her to flee. But she didn’t.

“I don’t know how to stop,” she finally said, pressing her lips together. “I’m a fucking mess. Look at me.”

“You’re not a mess.” I pressed my lips to her forehead. “You’re my other half.” I knew that without a shadow of a doubt. But no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t be the one to fix her. Not entirely, anyway. I could be here for her while she fought her demons, help her get the help she so desperately needed. “I don’t know how to make you stop either, but you can go someplace for help.”

She stiffened. “Rehab?”

“There’s a center right outside of town,” I said carefully. “One of the artists at Vogel Tattoos stayed there last year for a bit. He’s been clean for ten months.”

Ree was quiet for a long while, lost in deep thought. Her eyes, though, never left mine. The blue hues of her irises were so uniquely distinct that no matter how many shades of paint I employed, I could never quite capture their true splendor. Right now, her gaze was as dark and turbulent as the restless ocean before an oncoming storm.

“I don’t want to be like this anymore,” she finally said, pressing her cheek to my chest. A wave of relief flooded me. “I don’t want to be afraid or broken or weak. I want to be Real Ree.”

Her words shook me to the core.

“You are real, Ree,” I said. “And so fucking strong.”

“Doesn’t feel like it.” She sounded small, lost.

“I know you can do this.” I crowned her head with kisses. “It’s only twenty-eight days, baby. That’s all.”

Her shoulders stiffened. “Twenty-eight days? A whole month without you?” She shook her head and started to pull away. “I don’t know—”

“Not
without
me.” I tightened my grip, keeping her safely locked in my grasp. “I’ll be by your side the whole time. I’m not going anywhere. You won’t be a prisoner there. You can leave whenever you like. And I can visit.” I tilted her chin up so I could look in her eyes. “But it’s important for you to stick it out if you’re going to get better.
You
have to be the one to do this. If we’re going to have a chance, you have to CHOOSE this.”

“I do,” she said slowly. “I’ll go.”

“Tomorrow.”

“
Tomorrow
?” Once again, she stiffened. But a few seconds later, she nodded.

“I’ll take you,” I said, pressing my lips to hers. “It’ll be okay. I promise.”

Her arms instinctively wrapped around my neck as she returned my kiss. “Don’t give up on me. Promise you won’t.”

“I won’t.” I cupped her face with both of my hands. “But you can’t give up either.”

She shook her head. “I won’t.”

I would be here for her. Waiting patiently.

Two parts, one whole.

Together, yet divided.

At least for now.

nine

T
he first words out of Dare’s mouth the next morning while I was packing up my stuff were: “Where is it?”

I swallowed hard. My bottle of pills. He didn’t have to say it; I knew that was what he meant. And I knew what he wanted me to do with it.

I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I could do this. I could say goodbye to my old friends, the one constant in my life for the past seven years.

Oh, dear god.

My hands were shaking when I picked it up, and I didn’t even turn around to see if Dare was standing in the bathroom doorway. I knew what I had to do, no matter how fast my breaths came nor how hard my heart pounded.

But what if I wasn’t strong enough to live without them? What if the nightmares came when Dare wasn’t around? What if I couldn’t face my past sober?

My life was about to be picked apart and then put back together. And while I was looking forward to the latter, I’d have been lying if I said the other didn’t scare the living shit out of me.

I’d have to bare every one of my dirty secrets—to be heard, to be seen, to be judged.

Okay, I wasn’t sure if I could do this.

Shit.

I turned to look at Dare standing behind me, and was taken at the love in his eyes. His strength ran through me, empowering me.

He believed in me, so I had to believe in myself.

I had to do this. For me. And for us.

I unscrewed the lid of the bottle and tipped out its contents. The pills cascaded into the toilet below. All of them.

Every. Single. One.

“Are there any more?” he asked quietly.

I shook my head, still staring as they sank to the bottom of the bowl in all their colorful glory. For years now, I’d only been able to function with their help—the uppers when I wanted to feel, and the downers when I needed to forget. I had no idea how I was going to survive without them.

My heart pounded even as I tried to calm myself.

It was going to be okay.

I
was going to be okay.

Fuck it all, I could do this.

“I have to stop by the shop before we head out. Do you mind?” Dare said as he folded me into his arms. I clung to him, inhaling his scent, wishing I had a bottle of that to take with me.

It was only twenty-eight days.

I COULD DO THIS.

But did I mind delaying the start of that by a few hours? Nope. Not at all.

When we got to Vogel Tattoos, Dare disappeared into the back room in search of his boss while I sat in the waiting area and flipped through one of the well-worn black binders full of butterfly tattoo designs. Delicate to ornate, simple to highly detailed, and in every color imaginable, they were beautiful, though they paled in comparison to the radiance of my phoenix.

My phoenix
. I wondered if Dare still had it. In everything that had happened, I’d totally forgotten to ask. And now that I no longer had my pills, I didn’t know what I was going to do without my bird, how I would make it through the hell that was sure to follow in the next twenty eight days.

I started wishing I’d agreed to rehab AFTER I got my tattoo, because then at least I’d have it with me.

If he even still had the damn drawing.

Oh, god. He had to still have it.

A shadow fell over me and I ran my eyes up a pair of toned legs, a bare, pierced midriff, and tattooed arms, to Sia’s face. I smiled at her and she sank down next to me on the deep red leather couch.

“So,” she said, leaning forward, a cold, calculated look on her beautiful face, “I happened to overhear Dare telling Jasmine that he’s taking you to Feniks Centrum.” She widened her eyes and shook her head. “You poor thing.”

Happened
to overhear, my ass.

“Feniks Centrum?”

“The rehab center.
Feniks
means ‘phoenix.’ I’m sure it’s supposed to be some great symbol of change.” She rolled her eyes. “Like anyone actually
can
change. People don’t, though, do they? Especially not addicts.” She moved closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Hun, I’ve had SO many friends go through rehab and not one of them made it stick. Once an addict, always an addict. That’s just the way things are, you know?”

God, what a bitch. But…what if she was right? My pulse sped up. What if this was all going to be a waste of time and money? This place wasn’t cheap, and it was going to take all of the money I’d saved up to pay for my stay. When I got out, my bank account would be as empty as my parents’ hearts. I’d have to start all over again.