23. TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-THREE

" T eagan?"

A hand covers my mouth as I open my eyes in the dark space. Declan lies beside me on the bed, his face mere centimeters from my own.

"Shhh," Declan says. "Be quiet, okay?"

I nod, and he removes his hand from my mouth, combing his fingers through my hair instead. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "I'm sorry, Teagan."

I avert my eyes as tears roll down my face.

"Hey," he says. "Look at me."

"I don't want to," I say softly.

"I'm sorry, kitten," he says. "It was too much blood, and I got carried away. I'll be more careful with you, okay?"

I nod, covering my mouth with my own hands to stifle my sobs in an effort not to wake the man sleeping at my back.

"Let me hold you," he says, pulling me into his bare chest. "It's okay."

I wrap my arms around his back and curl into him, resting my head just under his chin.

This is so fucked. You're really fucked up. You're going to get yourself killed—is that what you want?

"Your heart is pounding," Declan whispers, running his fingers down my back. "If you had any idea how I think of you, Teagan—how I see you, who you are to me—you'd never feel this way around me."

I love you, Teagan.

I remember it now. That's what I thought I heard him say before he left me on the bathroom floor, and everything went dark. I thought he told me that he loved me.

But there's no way that was real. It must have been my subconscious telling me what it thought I needed to hear, what it thought might keep my heart beating in my chest.

"Come with me," Declan whispers, kissing the top of my head. "I'll show you something."

Now, I really am scared. I don't want to go anywhere alone with him, but I'm also afraid to tell him no.

I shake my head. "Luca won't like it. He'll be worried about me."

"He'll be fine, and so will you," he says. He stands and extends his hand to me. "Come on."

I hesitate for only a few seconds before taking his hand and slowly maneuvering my way out of bed. I freeze as Luca stirs, rolling onto his back. I watch his hand search the empty space beside him for my body before settling. The small subconscious gesture squeezes at my heart, making me desperate to crawl back into bed.

Sighing, I look away, seeing Declan watching me watch him. In the dark, I can't quite discern his expression, but he says nothing and moves toward the door with my hand in his.

"How are you feeling?" he says once we're in the hallway. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine," I tell him.

He opens the hotel room door, and I follow him inside.

"Sit," he says, gesturing toward the bed.

I do as he asks, leaning against the headboard with my feet folded under my body. Declan puts on his glasses, grabs a laptop from his bag, and sits at a desk chair, turning it so I can't quite see the screen. I wait silently for a couple of minutes before he stands, setting the computer in my lap before sitting beside me on the bed.

"What do you…want me to do with it?" I ask.

He moves close enough that our shoulders touch. "Click on that file right there."

"Townsend, Teagan Evelyn," I read. "God, not the middle name."

"I like it," he says.

I sigh. "Please, mentally prepare me for whatever this is. I don't want to be blindsided by a sex tape or a bunch of nudes."

"It's not anything like that. It's the file from your psychiatrist's office."

"Why would I want to see that?" I ask.

"You said I have you at a handicap, right? You want to know what I know about you? I know all of your favorite books, I know your favorite color is green, and that you're secretly a Swiftie."

"That's not really a secret—no one ever asked."

"I know that until recently, you hadn't cried in almost four years, and until third grade, the girl who photocopied your journal and took that video of you was your best friend. And after that, your best friend was a Pomeranian named Tulip, and when you were eleven, you watched your dad back over her in the driveway."

My lower lip quivers; tears pool in my eyes again. "How could you know that?"

He shrugs.

"I was playing with her in the front yard. He was in a hurry and wasn't paying attention. They all blamed me, though—told me I was too irresponsible to get another pet after what I'd put everyone through."

"You don't have to read it all," Declan says. "But if you want to know everything I know, there it is. I highlighted a few things I thought you might want to see."

I exhale slowly, turn back to the laptop, and double-click on the file.

"So, what's yours?" I ask.

"My what?"

"Middle name."

"Oh…it's Matteo," he says.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's my dad's name. Luca's is—"

"Anthony. I already know…he tells me things."

"I see."

"I'm just going to…read this now…I guess."

"Okay," he says. "I'll give you some space. Let me know if you need anything."

He grabs a book from the bedside table and, facing the opposite direction, opens it to the bookmarked page. I watch him only for a moment before turning my attention back to the open file on the computer, aware of the fact that I'm sitting in bed with someone who, hours ago, left me bleeding out on the bathroom floor.

And he's just reading. He's just lying there next to me.

I started seeing Dr. Miller right after my suicide attempt. Reading the recount of the event makes my palms sweat and my jaw tighten. The truth is I didn't think it through; I didn't plan it. I wasn't suicidal.

I was in a lot of pain, and no one wanted to help me. My family was angry and ashamed. The school administration was more concerned that the way I was bullied and exploited was a distraction for other students and upsetting for their families. They didn't want me there anymore.

Just like with the dog, no one cared about how I felt.

And there it is—his first highlight.

It is of my professional opinion that Teagan is not suicidal but reacted rashly to a specific incident and is not at risk for a second attempt.

I suck in a breath and go back to scrolling.

Teagan seems to be incapable of forming meaningful relationships with her peers. While this is a major concern for her family, it does not appear to concern Teagan.

Teagan's emotional response to both her kidnapping and the threat to her life seems insignificant. She claims she did not experience any violence or assault, nor was she aware of the murders until after the incident. It is unclear whether or not her recount contains omissions or if she's altered or repressed memories surrounding the event.

Teagan returned to public school last month. She reports that her peers have not been welcoming but seems to find this amusing rather than upsetting. My concern for Teagan to harm herself again remains low. I am more worried about her fascination with violence and violent acts and that this fascination may evolve into something more, and she will become a danger to those around her.

Teagan stopped attending her college courses. Though she recognizes her family's concerns for her, she shows little concern for a career and, overall, seems to have no interest in participating in or contributing to society in any meaningful way.

It was around three in the morning when I started reading, and it's around five now when I close the laptop.

"I'm done," I say, setting the laptop aside.

"Okay," he says.

"It was an accident," I tell him. "I wasn't suicidal, I was just…freaking out. And so, I got into the medicine cabinet, and I took those pills and…I was relieved when I woke up. I knew I'd never do it again."

"I know that," he says. "I have known that. That's not why I wanted you, Teagan. Do you get that now?"

"I don't know," I say honestly. "Maybe you thought you could change my mind."

He scoffs. "Teagan, I—"

"Can I tell you something else?"

"Sure," he says.

"There was nothing," I say. "There is nothing. There was no white light, no gentle creature or ancestors waiting to hold my hand and help me move on to something better. And maybe you don't believe that, and that's okay, but…if this is all there is and this is all I get, then why the fuck should I have to spend my life feeding into an economic system that does nothing for me—spending my life sleeping or sitting in an office, a prisoner to other people's expectations of what's normal? Why can't I just do what I want? I wasn't hurting anyone. I wasn't worried about ending up alone."

"That's why I wanted you, Teagan—I agree with you. And you don't have to do any of those things; you don't have to worry about being alone because you won't be."

"So, you watched me?"

He nods. "I did. I saw you first. I watched you; I wanted to know more."

"So, you're a fan…of me."

"I don't know if I'd—" I cock my head to the side. "Fine. A fan—I'm your fan."

"I want to go back now," I say. "I'm tired. I lost a lot of blood today."

"Technically, that was yesterday. You can stay if you want. Luca gets up early; we can sleep in."

I shake my head. "He can't sleep alone, and he'll worry about me. He'll be scared…he loves me."

My heart is in my throat while I wait for his response.

"Okay," he says. "I'll walk you back."

I turn away from him in an attempt to mask my disappointment. "Thanks."

We walk together out the door and down the hallway in silence.

"Good night," I tell him before quickly ducking into the room.

He stops me, grabbing me by my arm, and I gasp. "What?" I ask, the fear easily decipherable in my tone. "What do you want?"

"My favorite color is black," he says. "I've never had a pet. My first concert was Muse, and I went home and told Luca we were starting a band. I think he was like…eight or nine or some shit. And I turned twenty-six last Monday. Now, you know some things about me, too."

"What? Your birthday was last Monday, and you didn't tell anyone?"

He shrugs. "Luca knew. He knows not to tell anyone, though. I haven't enjoyed celebrating them in a long time. I'd rather it just be…last Monday."

"Well, I think I'd like to make a big deal out of mine."

"Tell River, then."

"I will."

"How does it look?" he asks.

"How does what—"

He inclines his head, indicating the bandage on my chest.

"Oh…I don't know. I haven't looked at it. I don't want to look at it," I tell him, taking a step backward. "Riv says it's going to look angry, which I guess matches the intention."

He reaches for me, placing a hand on my cheek, and I flinch. "That wasn't my intention. I'm sorry, Teagan. I don't say things I don't mean."

"I'm going to go to bed now," I tell him. "Good night."

"It's morning," he says.

"Well, I'll see you later, then."

"Bye, kitten," he says.

I turn and make my way over to the bed, relieved when I hear the door click shut softly. I curl up next to Luca and go back to sleep.

"Hey."

River's icy blue eyes stare back at me when I open my own. "Hey."

"Your color looks good," she says quietly. "How are you feeling?"

"I feel normal," I tell her. "Just tired. I didn't sleep much."

She reaches for the bandage on my chest and pulls it back.

"Don't," I tell her. "Don't take it off. I don't want to look at it."

"I just want to check on it. I'll lift it enough to see it, and then I'll put it back. You don't have to look."

"Okay."

I look somewhere just over her head while she peels back the corner of the bandage, examining the area for a minute before replacing it.

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know how to answer that," she says. "Not that bad, thanks to me. The places I couldn't glue are a little weepy, and you'll need to change the bandage again before we leave. You might be able to take it off tomorrow."

"Thank you," I tell her.

"You're welcome."

Her bare thigh brushes against me under the covers. I hitch my leg over her hip, and she leans in, kissing me with full, soft lips. Her tongue glides slowly and sensually along my own, waking me up, reminding me of how good that same tongue feels between my legs. I run my hands down her back, cupping her ass through her silk sleep shorts and pulling her into me, rocking my hips against her. She grinds back into me, and I push her blonde hair away from her shoulder. She's wearing a blue silk pajama top that matches those shorts with buttons running up the front. I fumble with them until I get enough of them undone to push it away from her tits.

They're small, and they're fucking perfect. She never wears a bra—I guess I wouldn't either. And her nipples are always hard like they are now. I rub the right one with my thumb while I suck on her neck.

"That feels so good," she whispers for Luca's sake.

"I know," I whisper back. "I can feel how wet you are through those shorts…against my thigh. Take them off." I pull her earlobe through my teeth.

"Take yours off," she says, working her shorts over her hips. She pushes the front of my cami down away from my breasts, and I hook my thumbs inside my shorts and underwear and kick them down my legs.

"So, you guys are just going to fuck on top of my unconscious body? Is this typical bedside manner?" Luca says from behind me. "You fuck all your patients, Riv?"

"Only the really good ones," she says. "You said it yourself—Teagan is always a good girl."

She reaches between my legs and strokes my clit with her fingers. I throw my head back on contact and moan; Luca wraps his hand around my neck and catches my mouth with his.

"I don't see any good girls here," Luca says. "I see a couple of horny brats."

I feel his hard dick against my backside, the head slotting against my pussy while River works my clit. I cry out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling it when he thrusts into me.

"Mmm…she got you nice and wet, didn't she?" Luca says, rocking his hips into me.

"Yes…"

"Holy shit," River says. "Are you inside her right now? I want to see."

She pulls the covers back and Luca grabs the thigh I'd hooked around her waist and holds it open to give her a better view as he fucks into me.

"Luca!"

It gives his massive cock better access, too, and I whimper each time he fills me.

"Fuck, that's hot," she says. "You're so fucking hot, Teagan."

"She takes it so fucking well, doesn't she?" Luca groans.

She doesn't answer but instead lowers her head between my legs. I feel her mouth on my clit, alternating between circling and flicking it with her tongue and running up and down my slit.

"Oh, god!" I cry out.

Luca tightens his grip on my throat and picks up the pace, fucking me hard and fast while River licks and sucks on my pussy.

"Fuck, Riv," Luca says. "Lick my cock while I fuck her."

Her tongue runs down my pussy, and I can feel it there—at my opening, against Luca's cock as he thrusts into me. Goosebumps run up my spine and I search for something to hold onto while I come and end up with one hand in each of their hair.

"She's about to come," Luca tells her, slamming his cock into me. "Do you think I should let her breathe or no?"

"Mmm…she did lose a lot of blood yesterday. And I like the sounds she makes."

Luca releases me as River moves her mouth back over my pussy, flicking my clit with her tongue, as I gasp for air and rock my hips over both of them.

"Fuck!" I scream. "Oh, fuck! Oh, god, it feels so good."

I use that hand in her hair to bring her further into me as I explode, my pussy pulsing against her tongue and around Luca's cock while the waves of pleasure roll through me.

I'm still feeling the aftershocks of the orgasm when River takes her mouth away from me, and I sigh with relief.

She runs her tongue over my bottom lip before sliding it into my mouth. She continues kissing me, running her hands over my tits, while Luca fucks me, then pulls back and says, "Can you taste that? I want to feel your tongue on my pussy, Teagan. I want to taste myself on you and see how we taste together."

"Get on all fours in the middle of the bed. River wants your mouth," Luca says.

He pulls his cock out of me, and I remove my cami before getting on my hands and knees in the middle of the bed. Riv rolls onto her back in front of me with her legs open. I push two fingers into her dripping wet pussy, pumping them into her a couple of times and watching her writhe against me before lowering my head and giving her my mouth.

"Oh, fuck," she moans. "Yes…faster. Do it faster."

"I can hear how wet she is on your mouth and fingers," Luca says. "She wants you so bad; I bet she's ready to come already."

Their words spur me on, and I pick up my pace, angling my fingers inward while I move them inside of her and flicking her clit with my tongue.

Behind me, Luca pushes his cock back into me, and I moan against River's clit, sucking it into my mouth.

"Oh, god!" she screams. "Oh, fuck, that feels good."

She buries her hands in my hair and arches her hips against me, bucking slightly against my mouth. My free hand moves up her body, from her hip to her tits. I toy with her nipple while I eat her, and she rolls her hips into me, biting her lower lip.

"Teagan…" she moans. "Don't stop…"

Her words have me clenching around Luca's dick. He notices and slams into me harder, and I moan. "She liked that, River," Luca says.

"Fuck her harder," River says. "The way she moans against my pussy feels so…ahhh!"

He doesn't need to be asked twice. Luca grabs me by the hips and fucks me hard and fast, and I bury my cries against River's clit, rolling it against my tongue while she whimpers and squirms against me until she lets go.

She digs her heels into me and comes around my mouth and fingers, screaming. I don't come up for air until she releases her hold on my hair.

"Oh, fuck," she says, breathless.

"Keep your head down and your ass up in the air, Teagan," Luca says. He uses his hands to spread me wider, hitting me deeper.

"Luca…" I moan, dropping my head against River's thigh.

"Your legs are shaking. Are you going to come again, you little brat? You like eating pussy that much?"

"Y-yes," I tell him.

I grip the comforter in my hands, push back against him, and come hard.

"You make such pretty sounds when you come, Teagan," River says, stroking my hair.

"Riv," Luca groans. "Get your ass over here—I'm going to come all over both of you."

River moves down the bed, lies on her back beside me, then pulls my mouth down to her own. I swirl my tongue with hers, letting her taste herself on me until Luca pulls out and turns me onto my back. He kneels over us, pumping his dick in his fist, groaning as hot cum covers both of our chests. River leans in, licking some from my nipple while he finishes.

"Fuck," he says before collapsing between us. He puts an arm around each of us. "Horny fucking brats."

"I told you—she started it," River tells him.

"She got under the covers with me and rubbed her thighs against mine. And her nipples were hard."

"You better stop," Luca says. "We're supposed to leave in forty minutes, and if you don't, one or both of you are going to get fucked again."

"Forty minutes, really? Shit," River says. "I'd better go. If I leave this stuff here, can you change her bandage, or do you want me to do it?"

"I can do it," he tells her.

I almost argue for her to do it instead. I don't know why I don't want him to see it; it's not like I can keep him from seeing it forever.

"Okay," she says. She wipes her chest clean with the hotel sheets and grabs her pajamas from the floor. "I'm going to go shower. See you downstairs."

She doesn't bother dressing before she steps out into the hallway.

"We should go shower, too," Luca says. "Come on."

He climbs out of bed, and I hesitate for a few seconds before following. The water is already steaming when I step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

"I haven't looked at it," I tell him.

He sighs and peels back the bandage. I see a flash of shock on his face before he says, "It's not that bad. I mean, the 'L' is a work of art but…you should look at it. This is the worst it's ever going to look."

He turns me toward the mirror, and I take a deep breath before allowing myself to look up at my reflection.

It's about what I expected: deeper, angrier cuts than the lines that make up the 'L' on the other side. The straight line isn't so bad. The curved part of the 'D' is deep, and the line is a little jagged. The skin kind of turns up near the middle where it's held together with butterfly closures.

But it isn't terrible. I don't hate it as much as I thought it would, and I'm not sure if that makes me feel better or worse. I quickly turn away from the mirror.

"See? It's not so bad."

"Yeah. I guess it's not. You're right. I'm glad I got it over with. But…do you hate it?"

"No, I don't hate it, Teagan," he says. "I love you, and I love my brother. Okay?"

I nod, exhaling slowly in an attempt to pull myself together, and then step into the shower. I close my eyes and stand under the spray, letting it wash over me.

Luca steps into the shower behind me and kisses the top of my head. "Do you want me to wash your hair?" he asks.

"Yes," I tell him.

As fingers run through my dark hair, I watch the water swirling down the drain turn the lightest shade of pink from the blood that had soaked into it yesterday.

And it's not so bad.

"Are you still feeling okay, baby?" Luca asks as we pass through the hotel lobby.

"Yeah," I tell him. "I'm just tired. I'm not looking forward to another long bus ride, either."

"Well, we're almost done," he says. "Then, we'll take that vacation, wifey. And it's supposed to be eighty degrees in Dallas. I know you hate the cold—we can sit by the pool tomorrow and drink all day."

"Okay."

"Hey," Rhett says as we step onto the bus. "Missed you at the gym this morning."

"Had to take care of a couple of brats," Luca says. He smacks River's ass as he walks past to the kitchen.

"Ow!" she says.

"It wasn't even hard," he says, grabbing a beer from the fridge. "Tell her, Teag."

I lean against the bar beside her. "It really wasn't that hard," I say.

"Traitor," River says. She hooks her finger in the belt loop of my jeans and then leans in and kisses me lightly on the lips.

Luca inclines his beer in our direction. "See what I mean?" he says. "Control your wife, Haze."

"Why would I do that?" she asks. "If I'd known, I would have brought toys."

"What kind of toys?" I ask before I can think better of it.

"Oh, we have an extensive collection," Hazel says. "I would love to show you."

Well, okay.

"Stop it," Luca says. "What do you want to drink, Teagan?"

"What is there?" I ask.

"Beer, water, vodka, White Claw—"

"I want one of those," River says.

"Of course you do." Luca takes one from the fridge and sets it in front of her. "That's pretty much it, other than blood bags."

I realize as soon as he says it what I want—I want the blood. I'm not going to tell him that, though.

"Water is fine."

"She wants the blood," Rhett says. "Did you see her face?"

"Do you?" Luca asks.

"Um…"

And now, when I hear the word blood, I crave it. I lick my lips and try not to think about it.

But I do think about it. A set of scenes flashes through my mind: first, Declan kneeling in a pool of my blood, licking it from a knife, then that girl at the house in Oregon dead on that marble slab.

Then, the couple Jared killed at the cabin, soaked in blood on the kitchen floor.

I don't really mind any of it.

"Pour her a shot," River says. "It's good for you; it'll wake you up."

"It's better straight from the source," Hazel says, pulling her knife from her bag. "Give me your wrist, Riv."

River extends her arm, and Hazel drags the blade lightly across her wrist. I watch as the blood pools and begins dripping down her arm. My mouth waters.

"Well, don't waste it," Hazel says.

I hesitate for only a moment more before I take River's wrist and bring it to my mouth, sucking blood from the cut, clenching my thighs together as wet heat pools between my legs again and River lovingly runs her fingers through my hair.

There's a knock before the bus doors open one more time, and Declan and Eli step on. I release her arm and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"About fucking time," Luca says.

"Shut the fuck up," Declan scoffs.

I hear his footsteps stop beside me and feel him looking down at me. When I don't look up, he reaches for me, using two fingers to tilt my chin toward him. My eyes meet his, and he leans in, kissing me on the lips slowly, deeply. His tongue slips into my mouth where, if he hasn't already tasted the blood on my lips, he'll be able to taste it now. I hold my breath until he pulls away.

"Good morning, Teagan," he says.

"Good morning..."

He says nothing else before continuing up the staircase. Eli follows him, pausing only long enough to spare me a disapproving glance no one else notices—a look that tells me he realizes I won't be running and thinks I'm stupid for it.

I hope the look I send back reassures him that I'll never tell.

Luca leans over the counter in front of me. "Did you guys make up or something?"

"No," I tell him. "I don't know. Maybe."

He still manipulated me. He still hurt me. But I do miss him. I'd be content to spend the next nine hours lying next to him with a book and his arm around my waist. Of course, I won't do that.

"Just be careful, Teagan," River says. "Don't piss him off again."

"I didn't—" I pause, deciding not to bother arguing that I didn't do anything to him—all I did was react to something he did to me. I point to Luca. "I thought you all said he was the dangerous one."

River shrugs. "Well, apparently not when it comes to you. Declan is usually pretty predictable. He's…I don't know how to describe it."

"He's unbothered," Hazel says. "By everything. He's always in control. There's something about you that's bothering him. That's dangerous—for you."

"So, what? You think he's going to kill me or something?" I force a laugh when I ask the question, even though I'm not joking.

"You'll be fine, Teagan," Luca says, seeing the worried look on my face. "Don't listen to them. I know him better than anybody. If he wanted to hurt you—if he wanted you dead, you'd know it. Do you think he wants that, baby?"

"No," I tell him. "I don't think that's what he wants."

But I'm still not convinced that he doesn't want me to hurt myself—that he doesn't want what Alana said. To get under my skin, to make me love him, to control me.

And then watch me go insane.

"Well, then there you go. You're fine."

"Wow, Luca," Brady chimes in from behind us. "Your logic is impressively delusional."

"Hey, shut the fuck up."

"For the record, I actually agree with Luca," Rhett adds.

"I'm going to go check on him," Hazel says, passing me on her way to the staircase. "I don't want him to feel left out."

"Well, what does everyone want to do all fucking day?" River asks.

I know what I want to do all day. But I'm not going to do it.

"I'll take one of those beers now," I tell Luca.

The rest of them eventually settle on a Netflix series to binge all day, and I pop in my headphones and lie across Luca's lap with a book in my hands. I try not to think too much about Declan, but it's difficult.

The wound on my chest—that constant reminder of who chose me, of why I'm here, and who I really belong to—itches the entire day.