Dissent (32 page)

“Have
you talked to her yet?” Jay asked and Dr. Todd's eyes met mine
too.

“No,
I just... I said her name... and she looked up at me, wincing. I
think.”

“Why
don't you come over here and sit with her?” Dr. Todd suggested,
getting up and moving away.

I
tucked my hands into my pockets. “Why?”

“Because
she doesn't even look at me, and I have been here every day for the
past few days,” she told me.

“Yeah,
and I mean... she looks at me. But not in response to anything I say
to her.”

I
took a deep breath, walking slowly over to her. Disappointment was a
live wire inside of me. I think a part of me, cocky and stupid, had
thought she might lay eyes on me and just... snap out of it.

I
moved to sit down, cross legged beside her.

“We'll...
be over here,” Dr. Todd said, taking Jay's arm and leading him
to the far end of the balcony, out of earshot.

I
watched them for a minute, before letting out a shaky breath and
turning toward Darcy. I looked at her face for a second, bringing my
hand up slowly toward her face, and tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Hey, baby,” I said quietly, watching her face turn
slightly to mine. Again, a wince. But nothing else. No emotion. No
recognition. Nothing. But she was looking at me.

I
stroked down her bruised cheek, careful to keep my fingers light. “I
should have been there,” I told her, talking more to myself
than to her. “I should have made you let me stay. This wouldn't
have happened. I wouldn't have let anyone put their hands on you. I'm
so fucking sorry, Darcy,” I said, closing my eyes against the
rush of guilt. I felt her shiver underneath my hand. “Come on,”
I said, getting onto my knees and reaching out toward her. When she
didn't shrink from me, I put my hands under her arms and helped her
onto her feet.

Her
pants clung heavy, dripping cold water all over the ground. I reached
for the t-shirt that was slightly tucked into her waistband and
pulled it out, letting it fall freely down her thighs, stopping a few
inches above her knee. Then my hands went hesitantly up under her
shirt, grabbing the waist of her pants and pulling them down. She
didn't move to step out of the legs and I stooped down, picking up
each of her feet, and pulling the material off. From my position, I
could see the marks, the claw marks. Like she had been fucking mauled
by an animal. Which, I guessed, was exactly what had happened.

Without
thinking, I leaned forward and planted a kiss on the very edge of one
of them. The reaction was like I had stabbed her. Her entire body
shocked away from me, a hiss of a breath escaping her lips, her eyes
going wide.

“Fuck.
Shit,” I said, quickly getting to my feet, sending Jay and Dr.
Todd a panicked look. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't
know what to do for...”

She
swallowed hard twice, like it was a new sensation, her eyebrows
drawing together. “I...” she started, swallowing again.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jay and Dr. Todd moving
slowly toward us, their eyes wide. “I,” she started
again, her voice a little stronger.

“Yeah,
baby?” I asked, my eyes pleading hers to stay with me, like I
was terrified she might slip back away.

She
shook her head slightly, clearing the fog from her brain. A slow, coy
smile toyed with her lips. “I seem to be suffering from...
female hysterics.”

She
caught me so off guard, a strange, strangled laugh flew out of my
mouth. Her smile spread, a little shakily, as I threw my head back
and laughed. “I think I know a good treatment for that,”
I said, nodding at her.

She
gave me a weak smile for a second, then her eyes filled and spilled
over, tears running down her cheeks, fast and uncontrollable.
“Isaiah...”

“Shh,”
I said, reaching my arms around her, pulling her to my chest gently,
not pressing, remembering her ripped nipple piercings. “It's
alright,” I murmured, bringing my hands awkwardly up to stroke
her hair. “I'm here.”

“He
killed Poe,” she sobbed against my shirt, her hands sinking
into my shoulders.

“I
know,” I said, kissing the side of her head. “I'll scour
the alleys until I find another kitten, one all beaten up and ugly
for you.”

“We'll
match,” she laughed, pulling back from me, bringing a hand up
to her face.

“You're
still beautiful,” I told her.

“You're
a terrible fucking liar,” she said, shaking her head.

“Darce...”
Jay said, sounding hesitant.

She
turned quickly, wiping at her face. “Jay...” she started,
giving him a smile, “I'm sorry I checked out on you.”
She looked around at us. “How long has it been?”

“About
a week,” Jay told her, shrugging.

“A
week?” she almost yelled, looking horrified. “A week?
Where is everyone? What happened to the tour...”

“There's
plenty of time for that,” Dr. Todd cut in,her voice
professional and firm. “I believe Isaiah has a... treatment,”
she said, smiling wickedly, like she knew exactly what we were
referring to, “that needs to be performed.” She linked
her arm through Jay's. “Why don't you walk me to the subway?”
she asked, leading him none-too-gently away.

Alone,
Darcy looked up at me. “You came,” she said, sounding
almost surprised.

“Of
course I came,” I said, shaking my head.

“But
I accused you of...”

“Eh,”
I said, shrugging. “I got over it.”

“Just
like that, huh?” she asked, raising a brow in the way she used
to. “Where were you?”

“I
went back to my childhood home. I needed to clear my head.”

“So
how did...”

“My
sister,” I said, cutting her off. “My sister saw you here
the other day and came to get me.”

“Why
would she do that?”

“Because,”
I said, touching her under her chin, “I'm in love with you,
baby.”

“Hmm,”
she said leaning forward and resting her head on my chest. “That's
nice.”

“That's
it?” I asked, feeling a stab somewhere deep inside.

“Well,”
she said, leaning back and looking up at me, “maybe I love you
too.”

Epilogue

“Stop
being such a pussy,” Darcy laughed, looking behind her at me,
dragging my feet.

She
was better. The bruises on her face faded, leaving her with her
perfect pale skin again, a scar running through her lip, still quite
pink, but she claimed she liked it. It gave her more “street
cred”, she told me one night, laughing. Her nipples healed over
and she still mourned the loss of the piercings, which she was
advised were not a good idea to have re-pierced because of the scar
tissue.

They
didn't put the tour back on like Darcy had started insisting just
hours after she came out of her catatonic state. Her management had
insisted she take some time off. Which she took to mean doing small,
unscheduled, shows all over the city, trying to prove to her fan base
that she was back and as good as ever.

Her
image was important to her.

And
I couldn't fault her for that.

“I'm
not being a pussy,” I objected, tucking my hands into my
pockets. “I just don't want to be here.”

She
adjusted the huge pack full of god-knew what, back onto her back and
looked over her shoulder at me, rolling her eyes. “Well I do...
so stop fucking moping.”

I
never thought I would see a day when a woman spoke to me that way and
all I wanted to do was grab her and kiss her. That was the power of
Darcy fucking Monroe- she was strong enough to pry through all the
bullshit that I had pounded into my head all my life and replaced it
all with her hardass, take-no-prisoners, complete disregard for
anything even resembling a gender double standard. She forced me to
keep seeing Dr. Todd, and I had to admit, I was getting better at
adapting.

Which
was exactly the reason this little idea of hers had me on edge.

“Where
the hell is this place?” she asked, squinting off into the
seemingly never ending treeline.

“Just
a couple more yards that way,” I said, bumping my shoulder into
hers to turn her.

We
walked in silence, me knowing there was no use arguing with her, she
too preoccupied with whatever plan she had swirling around in her
mind that, one night, had her popping into me sitting in my reading
chair and declaring, “I want you to take me to where you grew
up,” and then popped right back out before I could object.

So
there we were, trekking through the woods on a crisp early spring
morning. “Holy shit,” she said, pulling to a stop
suddenly, making me slam into her back, my arms going to her
shoulders. “That's it?” she asked, nodding toward the
shack.

“That's
it,” I nodded, massaging her neck absentmindedly.

“When
you said a shack... I hadn't pictured an actual...”

“Shack,”
I supplied, chuckling.

“Is
that... a chicken?” she asked, stepping forward.

“Son
of a bitch,” I said, watching him walk right back into the hen
house. “I spent weeks chasing that bastard, then I set him
free, and he just hangs out here?”

Darcy
laughed, grabbing my hand, and pulling me toward the house. “This
is pretty cool,” she said, reaching for the door, pausing when
my hand pulled from hers. “What's the matter?”

“I've
finally gotten this fucking place out of my head,” I admitted
freely. Ever since that day at the lake, telling her about my past,
she had always been easy to talk to. To spill every sordid detail to.
“I don't want to go back.”

She
turned around, leaning against the door. “You're going to want
to go in with me.”

“Why?”
I asked, shaking my head at her look. I knew that look.

“Because
you're going to fuck me in here,” she said, knocking on the
door.

“Darcy...”

“No.
No debates. I think it will be...” she grinned wickedly,
“therapeutic.”

Before
I could open my mouth to counter, she reached for her shirt, pulling
it up over her head, revealing her perfect pale skin, her round, pink
breasts. She reached for her pants, unzipping them and slipping them
down to her feet. Naked. She was so fucking perfect.

“Well,”
I said, pursing my lips, “you make a good point.”

She
laughed, pushing the door open, walking around my old house stark
fucking naked except for her sturdy black combat boots. “Holy
shit,” she said, looking around, then down at the bible I had
left on the table, throwing her head back and laughing. “Literally.”

I
watched her, walking around, completely comfortable with her
nakedness, as she inspected the furniture, the fireplace, the cups
and bowls. Like she was trying to form a strong mental picture of
what it had been like to live there. I don't know what the fuck I had
done right in my life to deserve her. Literally. All I seemed to
manage to do was fuck shit up. Hide and deflect. Rage and grieve.

But
she never seemed to care. She just accepted me the way I was. Every
fucked up inch. And in her acceptance, I learned to accept myself. I
learned to let the past go. I took Dr. Todd's advice. I put in the
work. I became a better man.

That's
what loving a woman like Darcy Monroe did to you- it made you a
better version of yourself.

“Which
one of these is your room?” she asked, gesturing toward the two
rooms.

“Why?”
I asked, lifting a brow.

“Because
I am going to fuck you on your childhood bed,” she said.

“Baby,
I don't think that's a good idea,” I said, shaking my head.

“Really?”
she asked, coming closer, stopping in front of me, reaching out and
placing her hand over my crotch, stroking the head of my hard cock.
“Because it seems like you have some kind of... internal
conflict.”

I
chuckled, feeling her fingers stroke across the head over and over.
“Well,” I said, my voice sounding husky, “I think I
should share that, um, conflict with you.”