17. I’m The One Who Knows

17

I’m The One Who Knows

Teal

My eyes open to darkness.

I turn to face the clock on the nightstand and see that it’s four in the morning. I didn’t plan on falling asleep in Declan’s bed, but exhaustion took hold the moment I closed my eyes, and I couldn’t fight it.

Rolling onto my back, I stretch my arm out and find Declan’s side empty.

“Looking for me?”

I sit up, pulling the sheet over my chest. Declan is sitting at his desk across the room, leaning back in his chair with his feet kicked up on it. He’s wearing sweats and a T-shirt, and his hair is still messy from the shower. The glow of his phone lights his face as he types something into it .

“And here I thought the devil summoned you back to hell in the middle of the night to give you tomorrow’s orders.”

He smirks. “No such luck.”

I glance around the room, suddenly feeling vulnerable that, once again, he’s dressed while I’m naked.

He’s relaxed, and I’m vulnerable.

How long has he been sitting in the chair watching me sleep? Did he get a hint of the nightmares that make it impossible for me to get any real rest?

“What are you doing?” I ask, brushing my hair off my shoulder.

He locks his phone and sets it down, dropping his feet to the floor. “Checking in on something.”

“ Checking in on something .” I roll my eyes, annoyed.

“What?”

“Why are you allowed to know everything about me, but you refuse to tell me anything about you? That’s not how relationships work, you know?”

“Happy to see you’re admitting that’s what we are now.”

“I’m not—”

“Are you trying to get to know me, Tealene Donovan?” He cuts me off, leaning forward.

“No.” I scowl. “Maybe I’m just looking for some blackmail of my own.”

“Doubt it.” He smirks. “It’s adorable you want to get to know your boyfriend.”

“ Fake boyfriend. ”

He shrugs, leaning back in his chair, glancing at his phone when it lights up. “When do you want me to take you home?”

He’s the one who forced me to stay last night, but now that I’m awake, he’s rushing me out of his room. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I hate that it hurts.

“Now, I guess.” I scoot to the edge of the bed, holding the sheet to my chest.

“I wasn’t saying you have to leave this second.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not offended.” I try to bury any hurt with sarcasm. “This is the last place I want to be.”

Declan watches me as I drop my feet to the floor, searching the room for my clothes.

We’ve been at war for almost as long as I’ve known him, but for the first time, I’m tired of fighting.

“Teal—”

“It’s fine.” I force a smile. “I have an appointment this morning anyway. I need to change clothes before that.”

“What appointment?”

“I’m surprised you don’t already know since you’re stalking my therapy sessions and all.”

His eyebrows pinch. “You go to therapy on Tuesday and Thursday.”

“How—” I freeze, staring at him. I was joking, but clearly, he wasn’t. “It was a last-minute appointment.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Do you suddenly care?” I laugh.

“Answer the question, Teal.” Declan’s voice lands like thunder in the room .

“Nothing’s wrong.” I grip the sheet to my chest. “Dr. Parish readjusted my dose, so he wanted to check in. That’s all.”

“Why did he adjust it?”

I grit my teeth, not sure why Declan has chosen this particular conversation to latch onto. As much as I’d like to just not answer him, I know he’ll find the information one way or another.

“I was having a bad reaction to the previous one.” I stand up, wrapping the sheet around me. “It’s no big deal. It happens all the time.”

Declan hums, watching me.

“What’s with the twenty questions?” My irritation spikes. “And where are my clothes?”

Declan climbs out of his chair, walks over to the dresser, and grabs my outfit. I didn’t see it there. But at some point in the night, he must have moved them from the floor and folded them.

I know Declan thrives on control, but apparently, he’s also extremely neat.

“What kind of bad reaction?” He stops in front of me, tossing my clothes onto the bed.

“Oh my god, Declan.” I close my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Who cares what kind of bad reaction? You’re not my doctor.”

“Doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about it.”

“Because you’re so understanding?” I spear him with a glare.

“Because sometimes it helps to talk about it.”

“Hence why I’m going to see my therapist. ”

“And you tell him everything?”

“Yes.” I tip my chin up, trying to be strong. “Mostly…”

“You’re my girlfriend, Teal. If something’s bothering you, you need to tell me.” He crosses his arms over his chest.

“You’re bothering me.” I narrow my eyes.

Declan tilts his head to the side, unamused. “You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Why should I talk to you, Declan? So you can gather more blackmail? No thanks.”

He grabs my jaw. “Because if you don’t get it out, it’ll eat you up inside.”

“Why does that matter to you?”

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Fa—”

“Don’t.” He squeezes my jaw harder. “You need to stop lying to yourself, Teal.”

“Who said I am?”

Declan releases me. “I’ve listened to your sessions. Dr. Parish might be too much of an egotistical tool to realize you’re just telling him what he wants to hear, but I’m not. You need to actually open up to someone, or you’ll never get it out.”

“Get what out? My secrets?” After last night, I know that’s what Declan is really after, whether I understand it or not.

“Everything.”

“So you expect me to open up to you?” My eyebrow hitches. “The person who hacked my medical records, listened to my therapy sessions, and strong-armed me into dating him?”

“Exactly.” Declan sounds proud of himself.

I shouldn’t be surprised. He considers being a puppeteer one of his greatest accomplishments.

“You’re sick.”

“It might help.”

“Are you trying to fix me now?”

He crosses his arms over his chest. “Do you need fixing, Teal?”

“According to my shrink.”

“I’m not asking your shrink. I’m asking your opinion.”

“Well then, in my opinion , it’s none of your business.” I straighten my spine.

Declan drops his chin, shaking his head. I swear he gets off on the challenge of making my life more difficult.

“All I’m saying”—he looks up at me—“is that if you need to vent something, or if you’re having an off day, your boyfriend is a text away.”

“My fake boyfriend. Last night, we agreed nothing about it changed our real feelings.” And the last thing I need is one more person checking in on me because they’re worried that I’m suicidal or losing my mind.

My whole life, I’ve been on a short leash. I’ve been on and off medical conservatorship. Even now, at nineteen, I’m still not clear on what is my decision and what’s my father’s, legally speaking. I’m too terrified to ask, knowing that if he really is the one with all the power, I’ll have to face the fact that I’ll never have it myself .

But for Declan to sit here pretending to care because he’s my boyfriend for the time being has my patience snapping. Especially when I realize why that is.

Declan doesn’t care about my well-being; he cares how it will make him look now that we’re fake dating. It’s why he dug into my medical records in the first place. It’s okay for him to date the insane girl so long as she keeps it together.

“Wow, you almost had me.” I breathe out a laugh. “Pretending to care, just like you’re pretending to be my boyfriend, so I don’t embarrass you in front of your friends. Last night was a lapse in judgment. Thanks for the reminder.”

“A lapse in judgment?” His eyebrows lift as he looks around the room. “Who are you lying to right now, Teal? Because it’s just me and you here, and I already know you’re full of shit.”

“I am not.” I grind my teeth.

Declan grabs the sheet, ripping it off me.

“Dec—”

I’m cut off by him climbing on the bed, pulling me up so we’re both standing on it. He grabs me by the back of the neck and spins me so I’m facing the wall.

Facing my painting.

“Lick.”

My eyebrows pinch as I stare at the swirl of color. “Lick what?”

He applies pressure to the back of my neck so my face is right up against the painting. The heat of his chest burns against my back as he lowers his mouth to my ear. “Lick.”

I always thought Declan Pierce was the worst of the worst, but as I stick my tongue out at his command, I realize I’m no better because I keep falling for him.

He pushes my face forward, flattening my tongue to the painting and holding me there.

“Taste that?” He growls in my ear. “Taste those fucking lies on your tongue? Or are you too busy tasting our cum?”

Declan releases me, hopping off the bed.

It takes me a moment to pull back and process that I can still taste where he wiped our release on the paint. I turn, dropping to sit on the mattress, and watch him walk across the room.

He’s pissed, and not in a Declan Pierce is always an asshole kind of way. He’s genuinely mad at me for what I said.

“This isn’t real, Declan.” I shake my head, climbing off the bed and grabbing my outfit. “We can fake a whole relationship and be loyal to each other during that process. But we can’t pretend it actually means anything.”

My hands are shaking as I button my pants and reach for my shirt.

“Define real.” Declan spins around, leaning against his desk, watching me slip my shirt overhead. “Your cum decorating my room is real, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes…” I mumble.

“You begging me to let you come was real?”

“Declan— ”

“Shut the fuck up, Teal.” He storms over to me, and instinctively, I step back. “You can disconnect from your family and your friends. You can disconnect from your heart or your fucking head to survive the day. But this—”

He grabs my jaw hard and tips my head back.

“This is fucking real. What I do to you is real. How you want it is real. Last night wasn’t a lapse in judgment. It was you admitting you’re just as fucked-up as I am, and you don’t know how to process that. We made a deal. You’re mine. So start fucking acting like it. You agreed to this, and I’m getting really tired of you pretending that you didn’t.” He releases my jaw and steps back, fire as hot as the pit of hell in his eyes.

“I agreed to it because you made me.” It’s nearly a whisper.

The room quiets, and we’re both breathing so hard I can’t figure out what we’re arguing about anymore.

“You manipulated me.” I shake my head. “Even last night with Cora… It’s all a game to you, and games don’t last forever. Besides, it’s not like either of us actually wanted this.”

His jaw tenses.

“Right?” My eyebrows pinch, and for the first time, I can’t read Declan’s face. “Right, Declan?”

“You’re good at that, aren’t you?” He reaches up to wipe his thumb over my lower lip. “Telling yourself whatever you need to hear so you don’t have to actually feel shit. It must be nice.”

“You know nothing about what I do and don’t feel. ”

He pulls back. “Neither do you, seeing as you’ve spent your whole fucking life high just to get through it.”

The second his words come out, something cracks in my chest, and I’m reminded of who I’m dealing with.

“Fuck you, Declan.” I pull away, grabbing my purse, and storm out of the room.

All my life, everyone around me has called me crazy. It’s been repeated so much I stopped trying to fight it. But as awful as Declan is, he was one of the few people who never made me feel weak because of that.

Until now.

I half expect him to stop me, but he doesn’t, and I don’t breathe again until the door to his room slams behind me, and I’m free of him. Even if I know it’s not for long.