What Lies Beneath (Count on Me Series #7) (15 page)

This is exactly why I didn’t want to do this with her. I knew she was going to react to what I’d been through.

Moving the book off my lap, I stand, but before I can even get a step or two away from the sofa, she’s coming back down the hall, her expression grim, wiping at her lips and refusing to meet my eyes.

The same way she used to when I tortured her at school.

Great.

Instead of making her way over to me, she makes a beeline for the closet and after a bit of shuffling around, pulls her boots out, yanking her jacket off the hanger and slipping it on before turning back and doing the same to mine. Tossing it over to me and going back to grab my shoes. Finally meeting my eyes when I’ve taken them from her and slipped them on.

“What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“I’m pressing pause, Kayden.”

“What does that mean? And why are you putting your jacket on?”

“This isn’t finished, but when you read the rest of whatever is in there, you’re going to do it in front of the person that deserves to hear it.”

Person that deserves to hear it. 

Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize she’s talking about Dean.

“Baby, we can’t just show up there. We’ve got to plan ahead.”

Slipping her cell phone out of the back of her jeans, she tosses it to me with an indifferent expression on her face. At least there’s indifference until I can see her eyes. The pools of blue sadness completely giving away her real feelings.

“Then call Tom and set it up. We’re going there.”

Turning her back, she takes the couple of steps to the door and pulls it open, stepping out and making sure to slam it closed behind her. Following her to the window, I see her kneeling on the grass outside, curling into herself and again, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what she’s doing or why.

The entry I was reading, it got the best of her, and now she’s getting the result of the overload of emotion out. It’s only when her hands come up to her head and she begins hitting that I’ve got the door open and I’m running toward her. Grabbing a hold of her and blocking her hands from reaching their target for round two. 

It’s been months since she fell apart like this. When loss of control of her emotions made her deviate back to the way she’d done things in the past. Even longer since my touch alone wasn’t enough to bring her out of it.

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” I whisper soothingly and as she fights against the grip I’ve got on her, I just hold on tighter. Refusing to let her hurt herself over something I’d already hurt enough over for the both of us. Unable to live with being the cause of her injuring herself if one of the hits she wanted to do actually hit its mark. 

“I’ll call Tom, Belle. We’ll go right now. We’ll end this, I swear to you.”

As her body collapses against mine after a few more minutes of struggling, I release the breaths I’ve been holding in. Falling to the ground and cradling her to me and rubbing her back until I can not only feel her breathing begin to even out, but hear it as well.

“He—He needs to k-know, Kayden.”

“And he will. I promise you. He will.” I assure her, even though the idea of going back to Donwood Correctional isn’t at all appealing. Seeing Dean again, especially right now when the wound is raw and exposed again, the last thing I want to do.

Wiping at her face, ridding herself of the tears that despite the level of calm that’s seemed to take over the moment, are still falling, she sniffles before looking up.

“How many shots, Kayden?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“And what happened after the last one?”

“Rick called an ambulance because I passed out in my own puke.”

“Dean didn’t do it?”

Son of a bitch.
I don’t want to answer this. I know it’s only going to make a bad situation worse.

Fuck!

Sometimes I really wish I could lie to her.

“No. He just went off and drank more. Rachel, Rick’s wife, rode with me to the hospital.”

“I think I’m gonna be sick again.” She moans, pulling out of my arms and crawling across the grass, dry heaving and making the guilt pooling in the pit of my stomach even heavier.

I did this to her.

Again
.

“Kay?”

“Yeah?”

Wiping at her knees, she stands and walks back over to where I’m still sitting, the sheer level of hatred I have for what I’ve caused tonight making it impossible to move even if I wanted to.

What Belle is having no part of when she holds her hand out between us for me to take, not so much as twitching until I’ve done what she wants and slipped mine in and pulled myself up.

“This, the nightmare he’s been holding over you. It ends tonight. Even if I have to be the one to do it.”

*****

After a call to Tom that consisted of me basically begging him to do this, and the time it took for the man to put together the gateway needed to get us into the prison to see Dean, we were off.

The drive there a silent one, but thankfully after the excitement at home, also an uneventful one. Belle and I content to stay inside the confines of our own thoughts. The need for words in order to fill the empty space non-existent.

At least until I pull into the parking lot and she became aware of just how real this was about to get.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Belle? I can turn the car around, tell Tom thanks, but no thanks, and we can go back home. Watch a movie or something.” I offer up for good measure. One that falls flat the second she shakes her head.

“No, Kayden. I’m sorry, but I’ve been looking over what you wrote the day after and this…it needs to happen now.”

“Okay then. Let’s get this over with.”

Exiting the car, she slides right into place beside me as we walk to where we need to be. What I know will be the cold, devoid of life and color room with my brother waiting.

Just like last time. 

Slipping my hand into hers and squeezing, I offer up as much support as I can, given my aversion to being here and it doesn’t take her long to return the favor with a squeeze of her own.

As we’re greeted by Tom and lead through to where we’ll be meeting Dean, I realize that going into this meeting right now, she knows more than I do. She’s read what I still haven’t been able to open the book back up and look at. Putting me at a clear disadvantage even though I’d lived through it.

“You ready?” Tom asks, pulling us both from our thoughts and when we nod, he knocks twice on the steel door and moves back, letting me go first when it finally pulls back and we’re granted access inside. Belle reaching out at the last second and resting her hand on my arm, pausing me before I can make it all the way in. 

“Let me go first. This was my idea.”

Moving out of the way and letting her step through, but keeping my hand securely wrapped in hers, I follow her in, only taking a seat when Belle drops the book on the table after opening it to the entry we’d left off on at home and slid it over toward my brother.

“How’d I know it wouldn’t be Tom on the other side of the table?’ Dean smirks and despite my desire to reach across the table and make him eat every word he just spoke, I shift my attention away and focus on the journal instead.

“Shut up.” Belle says as she pulls her chair closer to the table, her hand hitting the top of the book as she shoves it so close to my brother there’s no escaping it.

“You’re feisty tonight. Seems like Kayden lit a nice fire up under your ass.”

“Dean.” I cut in, but Belle’s hand coming up stops me cold.

“The last time I was here, I actually felt bad for you. When you asked me to take care of your brother, I thought I was finally witnessing the human side to Dean Walker. Turns out, I was wrong. Monsters; real ones, they don’t have human sides. They’re just vile all the way through.”

Bringing a hand to his face, Dean fake yawns and it takes every bit of restraint I have not to dive across the table and end this for real. In the only way that would make it permanent.

“Is there a question in there somewhere? Something I can actually answer? Or did you just come here to remind me what a sick prick I am?” Dean spits out and Belle doesn’t waste a second.

She’s on her feet, leaning across the table until her entire hand is slamming down on the paper directly under his nose.

“Read it.” She demands and despite the seriousness of the situation, there’s no denying the way my body reacts to her command. How incredibly hot it is to see the girl I love taking control.

She’s changed so much, but in the best fucking way.

“Story-time was an hour ago, princess,” Dean sneers. “Or did you not get the memo?”

“You’ve never read a story like this one, though, Dean. It’s a real page turner. Endless amounts of pain, agony and torture. Those are your favorite things, aren’t they?”

This is the side of Belle that I always knew was there, but spent a good part of my existence trying to keep down. Even when she couldn’t speak, you could see the fight she had in her eyes. Getting to witness it now, especially aimed at my brother on my behalf, well, there’s nothing quite like it.

“You sold me, sweetheart.” He laughs before lowering his eyes away from her and focusing on the book. Swallowing hard as I watch his eyes filter back and forth from one page to the next, the acid from earlier swirling in my stomach when he finally finishes and turns the page. 

“Feel free to read the next page out loud. That’s the best part.”

Dean has never backed down from anything or anyone. Not when I was a kid, and definitely not as I got older. Even if in the end it was the stupidest decision he ever made and he lived to regret it, which after a lot of the fights he got into that were with bigger people than me, he definitely did, he never bowed down to anyone.

Which is why it shocks the hell out of me when he does what Belle says and starts reading.

Dear Dean,

I don’t know what I did to make you so mad at me.

Maybe it was because you think it’s my fault Mom left.

That I cried too much.

Cared too much.

Maybe it’s not Mom leaving at all, but you ending up with me as a brother that makes you hate me.

Maybe you really wanted to be on your own.

Have Mom and Dad all to yourself.

Whatever the reason is, I really wish you didn’t.

I wish that things could be the way they were when I was four.

When you would come into my room, see me playing with the Matchbox and Hot Wheels and get down there with me making up fake car crashes.

The way you would make the noises of the rescue vehicles when I drove them and laugh afterwards. Or the way you used to sneak videos into my room when I was five and let me sit with you and watch all the scary movies mom always said I wasn’t allowed to see.

Most of all, I wish that things could be the way they were the first time Dad tried hitting me.

When you came flying down the hall and jumped on him. Beating on him as hard as you could with your hands until he let me go and I could get back to my room where it was safe.

I miss the way things were when you were pretending.

Reality really sucks because I love you. You’re the best, most amazing big brother in the world. When my teacher asked me who I idolized and wanted to be like when I was older, it wasn’t our dad I said. It was you.

I wanna be you, Dean.

I want to be the pretender.

I hate when you hit me. I hate when you pour bleach into my cuts trying to get them clean, and how you laugh when I cry. But most of all, I hate that no matter how much I do for you, nothing ever makes you happy.

I hate that I can’t be good enough for you.

That I can’t be good enough for anyone.

Not Mom, not Dad. Not even for Belle.

You’re right.

I am worthless and it is my fault she left. But now that I’ve admitted it, do you think you can stop being angry so maybe we can hang out again?

I really miss hanging out.

When you read this, please don’t be mad. I just wanted you to know.

I love you, Dean.

Your little brother forever,

Kayden.

“You made the boy that looked up to you, loved you even though you weren’t worthy of a second of it, drink until he almost killed himself. You poured bleach into open wounds to the point where even now, he’s got scars. You beat him, you used him, and you tried to kill him.” Belle begins once Dean has pulled his eyes up from the journal. “But he survived.”

All traces of his cockiness is gone now. His face a blank slate showing no emotion. Belle’s words along with my own obviously having the desired effect and silencing him for the first time in his life.

“You beat him and bent him, but Dean…you didn’t break him.”

“Why?” he finally asks when after Belle’s final words, the room is blanketed in silence. “Why the fuck did you bring this here? Want me to read it? What is this?”

“I wanted you to know just who it was you were torturing every time you put your hands on him. But most of all, I wanted you to know because when we walk out of here today, it’s done. We’re done with you and every unspeakable horror you put Kayden through. You on the other hand, have nothing but time to think. So, we’re shifting the pain where it belongs. On you.”

“You think you know everything don’t you, little girl? You don’t know shit! Your precious boy over there, he was as deep into all of it as I was. He’s as guilty as I am.”

Dean’s barely got the words out before Belle is moving, shoving the chair back across the floor with a squeal from the force behind her body as she takes off around and right up in my brother’s face. As I get to my feet in order to stop her, the exact moment the guard in the corner of the room moves the same way, Dean is falling backwards.