DARE: A Bad Boy Romance (20 page)

“Give her time. She needs to process what she’s gone through. Healing can be lonely. You need that private space, but it helps when you know there are people who’ll be there when you need them. I wish I could’ve explained that to Celeste. She did crowd me too much, but I didn’t try to meet her half way. I pushed her away instead. Completely pushed her away. And I fucking hate myself for it. So don’t make our mistakes, brother. Give her time to heal, but let her know you’ll be there for her when she’s ready. It’s not rocket science, but it’s so easy to get it wrong.”

“I know. I think I’ve already gotten it wrong.”

“Nah. You’re here, and she knows it,” Finn pointed out. “You’re making progress.”

Dare wasn’t so sure. But whatever happened, he was determined to stick around and find out. He’d made his mistakes in the past—some pretty big ones—but Holly was different. She had him reassessing what the rest of life could be like. He’d never entertained that before. Not seriously, not even with Stacey. He’d always been the central player in his future. Everything and everyone else had revolved around him.

Holly was different. As long as she was in his life, she would be central to it.

But did she
want
to be in his life?

“No! Stop! I can’t
breathe!
”

Holly lurched upright in bed and scrambled onto her side, massaging her still-sore neck. She coughed. The relentless drum in her chest insisted everything was
not
fine, damn it, but the cute reindeer staring back at her from all over the wallpaper suggested otherwise. And those princesses with the big eyes looked friendly enough.
Frozen,
that was it—the Disney cartoon her nieces had shown her three times in three days now. Catchy songs, despite the annoying snowman.

This was Tegan’s room. It was safe here.

She reached for a glass of water from the bedside table. Her T-shirt, pajama pants, and bed sheets were soaked. Holly had lost count of the number times she’d had that nightmare in the past few weeks. The walls closing in about her. Screaming at the top of her lungs and no sound coming out. The hands around her neck, squeezing. Her head ballooning, her eyes bugging out like those people without spacesuits in that Schwarzenegger movie set on Mars.

Jesus. It just seemed so
real.
Every time, too damn real. Obviously, being in a safe environment like this, surrounded by Disney wallpaper, was not enough to keep the bad dreams at bay. Trey had screwed her up more than she or anyone else had realized.

The door flung wide and her two nieces, Tegan, age eight, and Deedee, age six, ran in clutching their pillows. They both stood there at the foot of the bed, wide-eyed, gazing at her.

“Auntie Holly? What’s wrong?” Deedee, the youngest, looked just like Holly when she’d been that age, down to the pigtails and the little potbelly.

“Aw, nothing, sweetie.” And after a long gulp of water, she said, “A bad dream, that’s all. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you’re
soaked,
” Tegan pointed out. “Your T-shirt’s all wet. I can see everything.”

Holly adjusted her top. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you guys.”

“Are you okay?” asked Deedee. “You look…piqued.”

“She means peaky,” her sister pointed out. “That’s what Mom says when our color’s not so good.”

“Are you sick?” Again, Deedee showing her concern.

“No, sweetie. Just got too hot is all.” She eyed the wallpaper. “You think Elsa and Anna might be able to help me cool down?”

Deedee nodded slowly, then pointed up at the dopey snowman. “Olaf gets too hot sometimes. He just needs to go out in the snow to get cold again, then he’s good. Maybe you just need to get out of bed, Auntie Holly.”

Okay, so the six-year-old was making more sense than anything Holly had come up with so far. “I wish you guys were always around to look out for me,” she said, sliding out of bed. She saluted the snowman. “And Olaf, too.” Putting her arms around them, she escorted her nieces back to their room. It was actually Deedee’s room now, but they were sharing while Holly stayed. Good thing their dad, Trevor, hadn’t gotten around to dismantling the bunk beds yet.

“What was your nightmare about?” asked Tegan, who seemed so grown up compared to the last time Holly had spent the night here, babysitting about eighteen months ago. She was tall for her age, wiry, and liked soccer. She’d also lost some of her sweetness, as though the real world had already begun to erode her childhood fantasies. The difference between her and Deedee was kind of startling; it seemed to have happened overnight. Holly didn’t know exactly how to interact with her anymore.

“Oh, nothing bad,” replied Holly. “It’s over with now.”

“Must have been pretty bad if it made you scream out like that.” Tegan reluctantly climbed into the bottom bunk, while her little sister yawned and held her arms out, waiting to be lifted up to the top one.

Holly obliged. She tucked Deedee in and gave her a kiss. “Did I really scream out loud?”

Deedee nodded emphatically. “You said you couldn’t breathe.” She paused. “Does it have something to do with Uncle Trey?”

Oh, Jesus. How much do they know?

Holly was certain Jessica hadn’t told them anything—she’d never do that—but what if they’d heard something at school? No doubt they’d bragged to their friends about their Uncle Trey, the professional UFC fighter. Had someone filled them in on what had happened? On the gory details?

How the hell could she even
begin
to explain any of that to two little girls?

“No, it’s not about Uncle Trey. It was just…a bad swimming dream, that’s all. Happens sometimes. Even adults get scary dreams. But for every scary one there are a thousand amazing ones, like the ones you guys will have when you put your heads down and think of building magic ice palaces.”

“Will Olaf be there?” asked Deedee.

“Of course. You’ll have to build a special room for him, one without a fireplace.”

“You can borrow it, too, Auntie Holly, so you won’t get soaked again.”

“Thank you, sweetie. That’s a good idea.” Holly then crouched to kiss Tegan goodnight. “See you in the morning, kiddo.”

“Can you tell me what your bad dream was
really
about in the morning?” Tegan whispered in her ear. “My sister gets scared, but I can take it. I’m old enough now. You can tell me.”

“Okay, but it’s nothing
that
bad, I promise,” Holly lied. “Play me on the Xbox tomorrow?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nice one. G’night, kiddo.”

“Night.”

On her way out, Holly felt like closing the door after her, so she wouldn’t wake them up again. Screaming for help across the landing from two little girls didn’t exactly put across the cool aunt image she was hoping for. On the contrary, it was borderline unforgivable. And if it happened again, she would probably have to move out. Jessica—not to mention the girls—would try their best to dissuade her, but Holly had come here to get better, not to drag everyone down with her. When it came to screaming out in the middle of the night, a problem shared was a problem doubled.

She left the girls’ door ajar, just as they liked it. When she got back to her own bedroom, Jessica was there, already changing the bed sheet.

“I’m sorry, Jess. I really didn’t mean to wake you guys up.” Holly cringed as she eyed the sweat-soaked sheet bunched on the floor. “It’s getting embarrassing, huh.” It wasn’t a question. “How many times is that now?”

“Never mind about that,” replied Jessica. “You’re safe. That’s all that matters. And what are a few damp sheets?”

But Jessica did look overly tired and worn out. The bags under her eyes, the slouch, and the persistent yawning made her appear ten years older than she really was—thirty-one. Her fiery auburn hair had darkened over the years, so that it was now practically black. She had a paler complexion than Holly and had never gotten even a slight California tan. Her abundant freckles gave the fleeting appearance of one, until you got close and realized she was milky-white all over. Boys had teased her about the freckles at school, but she had never let it get to her. And she’d met Trevor, the love of her life, at college. He admitted the freckles were one of his favorite things about her; they’d drawn him to her, and the rest was history.

Trevor owned a successful transportation company that had started off with two trucks and now operated with a fleet of over sixty, all across the US. It kept him away from home more than Jessica liked, but he was good at what he did
and
loved doing it: a rare combination these days, they all agreed. He’d bought them this nice home in Faircrest Heights. And when the girls were old enough to take care of themselves, he’d promised to support Jessica in whatever career she chose.

“Same dream?” she asked Holly.

“Huh?” It took Holly a moment to adjust—she’d been trying like hell to blank out the nightmare. “Oh yeah. Can’t seem to shake it. I know the doc said it’ll take time, but it’s nearly every night now, sometimes more than once. It’s kicking my ass, Jess.”

“You’ve made noises before, like you were being choked, but you’ve never screamed out.”

“I feel really bad about that. Maybe it’s not a good idea me being so near the girls’ room. I mean, they’ve got school in the morning.” She thought it over and seriously didn’t want to move out on her own. Not yet. “What if I slept on the sofa?”

Jessica fetched a fresh pillow cover from the linen closet and threw it to her. “What will that achieve, besides making you more uncomfortable?”

“At least that way I might not wake everyone up?”

“You don’t think a scream from the living room would wake everyone up? Trust me, you woke up half the neighborhood with—” A creaking floorboard outside the room clued Mommy in to a certain midnight reconnaissance mission. She flung the door open and caught Tegan and Deedee red-handed. They both squealed and ran back to their room, giggling. Jessica marched after them, reading them the riot act. They’d be bog-eyed zombies at school tomorrow if they didn’t go to sleep immediately, she warned. And zombies lost all their fun privileges.

When she returned, she closed the door behind her. “If I see them yawn once during breakfast, I’ll knock their impish heads together.”

“It’s not their fault. I woke them up.”

“Don’t sweat it, sis,” she said, then looked down at the damp sheet and cleared her throat. “Okay, bad choice of words. But maybe we do need to talk about it. You know, about the best way to help you get over…what happened.”

“The doc said there’s no magic formula. Everyone’s different.”

Jessica sighed. “I could have told you that.”

“When I told him you’d invited me to stay here, he said it sounded like a good idea. To try and feel normal again. Safe.”

“Yeah. There’s that.”

Holly knew her big sister was holding back. “But…?”

Experience appeared to etch its way into Jessica’s tired, flustered frown, as though she knew an obvious truth that Holly and her doctors had somehow missed. “I’m not sure how to say this.”

“Straight up,” Holly told her. “Let’s start there.”

“Okay. Straight up? I don’t think you’re achieving anything by hiding out here like this. All you’re doing is pretending as if nothing happened. I thought it might work, but you don’t seem to be getting better; you seem to be getting worse. When you say normal, I think that’s part of the problem. None of
this
is normal for you. It is for me, but not for you. And the part about feeling safe? I don’t think you’ve got that either. Let me put it this way: if Trey were to suddenly turn up here at the house in the middle of the night, would you feel safe? Would being with me and the girls make you feel safe?”

Holly shuddered at the thought. “Um, not when you put it like that, no. But Trey’s gone. It’s about moving on, right?”

“Not when your mind is stuck on that endless loop. You’ve obviously not moved past what happened that night.”

“Tell me about it. But what can I do? It’s not as if I
want
the nightmares. They just happen.”

“I know. But I don’t think hiding from what happened is helping you either.” It had been a while since Jessica had put her arm around Holly—they’d never been huggers—but it sure felt good. To know in her bones that her older sister was still looking out for her, that she was using her much more “regular” and “rooted” life experiences to help her find a solution—it was more of a comfort than Jessica could ever know. “I think you should pick up where you left off.”

“Huh? How?”

“Before Trey abducted you that night, you were making progress, I seem to recall.”

It stung Holly to even think of Dare Bowden, how much she missed him, how much she
wanted
to disassociate him from Trey’s death, but it was too close and too painful to even consider. “Don’t.”