Tangled (22 page)

His
unblinking gaze continued to bore into her. “Then…why?”

Tess
wavered. It was a good question. She should be carousing in his anguish.
Turnabout was fair play after all. “I’ll let you know when I figure that one
out.” Tess applied peroxide to a few cotton swabs and gently dabbed the cuts.
“What happened to them? Your family, I mean” she clarified quietly, mindful of
the thin ice she treaded.

Instead
of copping an attitude, his voice retained the same robotic resonance. “Didn’t
you hear? Psychosis runs in the family.”

Tess
smartly switched tactics. “What was your brother’s name?”

 
“Nikolai.”

“Older?
Younger?”

“Older.
Two years.”

Tess
removed the bandages from the first aid box and began to wrap his hand. “What
was he like?”

“Everything
I’m not.” Self-recrimination darkened his words. “Loyal. Benevolent. People
used to wonder how we were related.”

“I’m
sure your brother loved you all the same,” she said, gently steering him away
from negativity.

A
mirthless half-smile tilted his mouth. “Nothing fazed him, even when I was
being a brat. He wanted to be an artist. Like our mother.” His voice flattened.
“My father never forgave her for it.”

So
creativity did run in the family. “Why?”

The
muscle in his jaw twitched and for a second silence reigned as he debated what
to reveal to her. “He was grooming Nikolai for bigger things.”

“I
saw a few of your projects. In your room.”

“Of
course you did.”

“You’re
not so bad yourself.”

He
said nothing.

“And
your mom?
 
What was she like?”

Adonis
inhaled deeply. “Beautiful. Volatile.
A ticking time bomb.
She could be a bundle of energy one minute and the next a sobbing mess.” His
eyes fluttered close. “Everyone ignored it, but they all knew something was
wrong.”

Tess
hesitated as she recalled what he’d revealed earlier. “Why did she do it?”

He
didn’t have an answer for it.

Ok,
that was a no fly zone. She removed the bandages from the first aid box and
began to wrap his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with being bipolar.” Her eyes
flicked to his face.

Adonis
redirected his attention to the shower. “I don’t have that shit.”

“Then
why were you prescribed that medication?”

He
didn’t respond immediately and for a moment Tess feared she’d been too
aggressive in her probing. “Because they thought I might be cyclothymic.”

Tess
had come across the term in her research. It was ‘softer’ version of bipolar
disorder. The episodes didn’t last as long and weren’t nearly as destructive.
“So why didn’t you take the meds?”

“I’m
not like them. Like my family.” There was something heart-achingly vulnerable
in the whisper. A truth he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“You
can’t let that stop you from getting better,” she said fiercely. “Ignorance
isn’t bliss, not in your case. If you leave it untreated, you’ll get worse.”

He
graced her with a mirthless half-smile. “Doesn’t matter. They’re all gone. I
don’t have anyone left to disappoint.”

Tess
gripped his wrist. “You can’t think like that. You’ve got your friends. You’ve
got Cam.” Stomach diving, she stepped out on a ledge. “And you've got me.”

His
head rotated in her direction. Beneath the shaggy overhang of his bangs, the
intensity of his bleared gaze made her suck in a sharp breath. “Do I have
you?”
 

Loaded
with subtext, the question immobilized her. Tess wasn’t stupid. Something else
hid beneath the skirts of antagonism and sexual tension; a something else that
was becoming inescapably evident the more time they spent together. In his
incapacitated state, he appeared willing to overlook the invisible demarcation.

Tess
fidgeted. On the one hand, loyalty to Cam prevented her from even considering
the unimaginable. But there was more to him that met the eye. Despite his
circus act of a life and its transient participants, he struck her as lonely.
And if there was something she could relate to, it was isolation.

Tess
made up her mind. “Yeah. You do.”

His
eyelids drifted close. “But you’re not mine to have.”

He
was not making this easy. “I can be friends with whomever I want,” she said
tactfully.

“Is
that what we are? Friends?”

“I
guess so.”

He
didn’t reject or accept her proposal.

Tess
took a moment to study him. There was nothing innocent or boyish about him,
even at rest. Clothes rumpled and coal-black hair askew, he looked like a devil
glutted on the fat of sin. Everything, from the ruthless cut of his features to
the mocking slant of his mouth, insisted that at any moment he’d awaken and shell
her with patented contempt.

“You
won’t tell him, will you?” The words came slow and thick, as if they had
trouble parting from his tongue.

“I
won’t.” Tess lightly skirted the puffed, pink skin knitted by several
dissolvable stitches where his hairline met his temple. “I don’t know how
you’re going to explain this to him.”

“I
fell.”

She
smiled. “Still sticking with that story?”

“
S’the
truth.”

She
tested the downy softness of his hair. “You’ve got to want to get better,
Adonis. Before it’s too late.” Her heartbeat stuttered as he attempted to lean
into her touch. Instead, his forehead tumbled into her knee. He lay motionless
and for a second Tess thought he’d passed out.

In
the subtlest of motions, his head dragged up and down in a sluggish nod. “Ok,”
he mumbled tiredly.

A
gut-deep warning advised her she was getting too involved. She never should’ve
become entangled in his personal drama, eavesdropped on his conversation with
the doctor, and most definitely should’ve never shown, let alone felt, the
slightest smidgen of empathy for this man.

There
would be no turning back now, for better or worse.

 Chapter 12

Adonis
awoke to a splitting migraine and the aroma of pancakes. Lying on his side, he
waited for the world to fall into place.
Monochromatic color
scheme.
Austere furniture. Steam-cleaned upholstery. He must have fallen
asleep at Cam’s place again.

He
took stock of his person. Every bone in his body ached in tandem with his head.
His mouth tasted as if he’d been sucking on pennies all night. But a throbbing
pain sliced through the rest.

He
raised his bandaged hand. Memories of the night were slow to replay. The party.
Knocking back drink after drink.
Showing up on Cam’s
doorstep completely wrecked.

Spilling
his guts to Tess.

What
he’d done should have infuriated him; should have launched him into a fit of
rage so violent it would’ve leveled the townhouse.

But
it didn’t.

He
was ashamed, bitter even, to admit that talking to her had come as a respite.
Fearing the inevitable downward tailspin, he’d clung to her presence.

Even
now he felt it dampening his mood. Black and cumbersome, the unending gloom
carpeted the floors of his mind.

An
upper would remedy that problem.

His
gaze returned to the bandage. It was the first time he’d told anyone about the diagnosis.
Not even Cameron knew. Maybe he’d been mistaken in keeping it to himself. Loosened
from his chest, it felt good to air out the secret after burying it for so
long.

Any
normal person would’ve hightailed it out of there or called the authorities.
Instead, she stayed.

He
cradled his hand to his chest. It’d been a long time since someone cared for
him. It disoriented him.
 

She
was toppling his defenses one at a time and he couldn’t act fast enough to stop
it.

If
only things were different. If only he was different. If only he’d met her
first.
Under better circumstances, naturally.

Not
for the first time he wished to be normal
;
to be free
from the ghosts of his past and the baggage with its eternal shelf life.

Adonis
pressed his face into the pillow to find some solace. For a fragment of an
instant, he caught the faintest trace of her scent. Sweet and balm-like, for a
moment it hoisted his spirits above the surface.

A
part of him wished she’d hadn’t left. With her, his emotions had been clearer,
lucid. The indescribable sadness hadn’t seemed so infinite.

The
pop and sizzle of frying bacon broke him from thought.

Fatigue
carved through the will to keep his eyes open. He could sleep until next week
if given the chance. For now, he owed Cameron an explanation.

Mustering
his strength, Adonis swung into a sitting position. His skull split with the
endeavor. He hauled himself up and shuffled past the demolished bar. Someone
had cleared the broken glass, mopped up spilled liquor, and removed the bloody,
jagged remains of the mirror.

Guilt
gnawed at him.

Adonis
dragged his feet into the kitchen like a disobedient dog with its tail tucked
between its legs. Cameron stood by the stovetop, spatula in hand.
 
“Hey,” he mumbled.

The
silence stretched on for one agonizing minute before he responded with, “Rough
night?”

“You
could say that.” Adonis couldn’t marshal the energy to sound as sorry as he
felt. “I’ll replace everything.”

“I
don’t care about the money," he said icily. “Did you know Lydia and I
searched half the city looking for you, thinking that you were lying dead in an
alley somewhere? Instead I come home, find my house half smashed to pieces, and
my girlfriend cleaning up your shit.”

Somehow
the word girlfriend belted him harder than the rest. The pulsing in his head intensified.
“Cam-”

“You
need to stop pulling this shit, Adonis. It’s getting really old, really fucking
fast.” Finally, Cameron turned around. His eyes were flinty chips of blue.
“Don’t ever disrespect me or my house like that again.”

“Sorry,”
he murmured.

“What’d
you take this time? Adderall? Codeine?” His features flattened. “Don’t tell me
you went back to coke.”

Adonis’s
teeth clamped shut as a belated swell of anger trundled through him. It was
his own
damn fault for using so many years. How could he
explain that for once drugs hadn’t been the culprits? How could he describe the
energy it had taken to control and subdue the thoughts flashing through his
mind so fast he couldn’t grasp one without plowing into the next?

He’d
begun drinking to dilute its effects, but all it’d done was swing him higher,
faster, harder, until nothing made sense except for an inexplicable rage. “I
got drunk.”

“Why
am I not surprised?” Cameron cut off the stove and tossing the pancake on top
of a stack of its brethren.

“I’m
going to see someone. A shrink.” The confession left a foul, vinegar-like
aftertaste.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.
No point in pretending I won’t end up like them.”
 
His gaze flicked up. “My family.”

“What
changed your mind?”

Adonis
bit his tongue before he said ‘your girlfriend’. “A lot of things. I didn’t
take anything last night, besides the booze,” he admitted lowly. “It was just…
me
.”

Cameron
withdrew another plate from the cabinet. Adonis waited, expecting additional
questions, concerns, and comments.

None
came.

But
then he had never been overly concerned with the particulars of his mental
state. In typical Cameron fashion, he kept his head buried in clouds, coming
down from his self-appointed pedestal only to right his wrongs before returning
to his ennobled dais.

Adonis
accepted the plate of pancakes and side of bacon.

Cameron
drizzled syrup across his stack. “What happened to your head?”

“I
fell.”

___________________

The
rest of break elapsed somewhat uneventfully. Tess managed to avoid Maia for the
rest of the weekend. It helped that her mother, in all likelihood, went to
great lengths to do the same. By Sunday afternoon, she was more than ready to leave.

“Where’s
the fire?” Cameron asked as she speedily tossed her things into the trunk and
slid into the passenger’s seat.

“Let’s
just go.”

He
left it alone. “About the other night, I’m sorry.”

“For
what?”

He
scowled. “For Adonis. “

“It
fine, Cam. Really.”

“No,
it’s not.” The muscle in his jaw twitched. “I’ve been making excuses for his behavior
long enough. He’d try to get away with murder if he knew I’d cover for him.”

“At
least he has someone in his corner,” she said without thinking.

His
eyebrow arced into his hairline. “When did you become his champion?”

She
shrugged, albeit uncomfortably. “Is that a crime now?”

“No,
but last I checked, you’d both rather eat glass than say one nice word about
one another.”

“He
was in a bad way. Who am I to judge? Especially after everything that went down
with his family.”

Cameron’s
knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “He told you that?”

A
twinge of nervousness needled through her. “He was pretty wrecked.”

“You
haven’t told anyone, have you?”

“Told
anyone?” Irritation chomped at the bit. “What’d you think I’m going to do? Out
him on Facebook?”

“After
everything he put you through, I wouldn’t blame you.”

She
stared at him in open-mouthed surprise. And hurt. “Well, you’re wrong.”

He
grimaced. “Tess, I didn’t mean anything by it. Forget I asked.”

“Forgotten,”
she said, although the subject was anything but.

Neither
spoke for the duration of the drive.

The
less than joyous return to school set a precedent for the next few days. Tess
tried to get back into the swing of things, but it was like trying to squeeze
into clothes she’d outgrown.

Lectures
and labs she’d handpicked at the beginning of the semester lost their luster.
 
It wasn’t the best of times to fade out,
but she couldn’t help it.

She
wanted to do something else. Something more.

“Hello?
Tess?”

She
started. “Sorry, Diane. What?”

“Excuse
me if I’m boring you,” her supervisor grumped.

“You’re
not. I just have a lot of things on my mind.” Tess stretched back in the booth.
“Why is it so dead in here?”

“Post-Thanksgiving
lag,” her supervisor said, her drooping jowls especially ruddy under the
restaurant’s unforgiving florescent light.

“Don’t
stress. They’ll run out of leftovers soon.”

“It’s
your loss, not mine. I’m salaried. You done with the silverware?”

Tess
pointed to the pyramid of rolled cutlery to her left.

“Go
home.”

“You
sure? I still have an hour left on the clock.”

“Fine.
You can help Harry do inventory.”

Tess
bolted out of the vinyl booth. “I’m gone.” After claiming her coat and purse
from the employee lounge, Tess clocked out.

The
night was unnaturally dark, its murk deepened by the absence of the moon.
Precipitation, fluctuating between drizzle and a dense mist, hazed the sleepy town.

What
a perfectly glorious night to walk home alone.

Tess
briefly debated calling Cameron for a ride and subsequently dismissed the idea.
By the time he arrived, she’d be halfway up the hill. And there was no way in
hell she was waiting inside so Diane could put her back to work. The extra
$2.13 wasn’t worth it.

Feeling
exposed beneath the lampposts’ ghoulish glare, Tess hunkered down in her
peacoat
. A few blocks away, a coach bus wheezed outside an
empty depot, its massive, yawning windows blackened.

Her
hearing sharpened as the slap of footfalls echoed behind her. Tess tucked her
hands inside her pockets. Her fingers glanced off the polished finish of her
switchblade. In all of her nineteen years, she’d gotten robbed only once. That
was the first and last time she traveled without protection. Granted all she
had was a measly thirty bucks accrued over a five hour period, so it wouldn’t
be some great loss. But it was her hard-earned thirty bucks, damn it.

Gradually,
the footsteps petered out, leaving her with nothing but the sound of her own irregular
breathing and the soft-soled crunch of gravel beneath her sneakers.
 

Not
knowing if she was being unduly paranoid or justifiably cautious, Tess stuck
with gut instinct and kept up her unrelenting pace. Apparently she’d gotten too
used to the luxury of Cameron taking her home.