Insomnia (21 page)

“Please, be careful. You need—I need you to be around.”

I didn’t know how to respond. Holding her felt incredible, natural. A thrill of excitement flowed through me at her words, but it was accompanied by dread. She was Finn’s sister—that was serious betrayal. How could I fix it? I didn’t want to hurt either of them. Or myself, if I was really being honest.

I took a deep breath, hesitating. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She pulled away, smiled, and kissed my cheek. I couldn’t think straight. Her lips were so soft. I could still feel them against my skin as I watched her stand up from the bed, turn off the lights, and walk out of the room. “Good night.”

In the silence, my idiocy began to sink in. Over the past few weeks, Addie had become like another best friend. This—whatever it was—would probably ruin both of my friendships. It was already difficult to make myself stop thinking about being close to her again. How could I not wonder what it would be like to kiss her? Maybe I could talk to Finn. Would he really care?

Yes. Yes, he would.

I pushed my hands into my forehead and groaned. Lean-
ing back into my pillow, I closed my eyes. As my mind drifted, flashes of Darkness and Dr. Freeburg plowed through it like an avalanche down my spine.

I jerked straight up in bed, knowing what I would have to do. I couldn’t risk Addie. Somehow, I needed to stop whatever was happening between us before it really started.

Some kind of monster lived in my mind, and I deserved nothing from Addie. From anyone, really—Finn, Mia, even my mom. I didn’t deserve their trust, not when I couldn’t even trust myself.

I couldn’t risk any of the people that meant the most to me, not until I could be sure about what had happened with Freeburg. Not until I knew that I was safe to be around.

twenty-seven

I was in my familiar white nothingness for a while before I entered Addie’s dream. We were surrounded by a shimmery silver mist with no walls, no ceiling, nothing at all, really—only mist. I could see the night stars peeking through when the air shifted. Addie sat cross-legged, looking up at them. She didn’t move or even blink. Just waited.

A rolling wave of mist curled up and over her legs. A slight breeze lifted a strand of hair off her shoulder and flipped it over. After a moment she took a deep breath and sighed. I kept expecting something to change, but it remained the same.

Most dreams had something happening. The dreamer was focused on something else, someone else. But Addie knew I was coming, and she was only focused on me.

I’d never seen anything like it.

This wasn’t one layer, like Mia’s, but it wasn’t a normal dream either. It was unique and amazing, just like Addie.

She was wearing navy shorts and a gray tank top that almost blended with the mist. I stood for a minute, not wanting to disturb her. Her long hair shimmered like dark copper in the starlight, and I could make out the sprinkle of tiny freckles on her nose. Looking at her made me understand why the word “beautiful” was invented. “Pretty” just wasn’t accurate.

Walking over, I sat down beside her. The ground felt like a firm pillow, but I didn’t pay much attention to it. The need to touch her was overwhelming, but my decision to distance myself from her made me hesitate.

In this dream, for this moment, maybe it would be okay. Here, we were safe. After this, I would stay away. I would protect her.

I would let go.

I took a deep breath and placed my hand on top of hers. Instantly she smiled, and my body warmed from the inside out. She wrapped her fingers around two of mine. I’d never noticed how much bigger my hand was than hers.

“Hi,” she whispered. She still hadn’t looked at me, like she was afraid I wasn’t really there. “Guess you still have your curse.”

I leaned forward until I caught her eye. “Looks like it.” I watched the mist move through the dream around us. “This is different though.”

“Is it? I was just trying to think calm thoughts while I fell asleep.”

“Well, this is pretty calm.” I watched the mist swirling around her. There were still so many things about this curse, and the dreams themselves, that I didn’t understand. I’d never seen a Dreamer control a dream in this way. I don’t know that anyone had ever tried, but still. She also seemed so aware, with none of the confusion the subconscious usually brings with it … she seemed almost awake.

She grinned. “Lie down.”

I looked from her to the misty ground and back to her. What was she up to?

“Relax and lie down.” Addie laughed. “I want to see if you can sleep here.”

“Oh, did you use hypnosis?” I glanced around, certain she hadn’t. Although it was similar to the stillness of Mia’s painting dreams, I could feel a difference in my bones.

Addie leaned back and scooted closer to me. “No, but I was hoping maybe it might work with me too.” Her mouth curved up at the corner in a cute lopsided smile. She tugged on my hand until I lay on my side facing her. “Could you please cooperate—just this once?” She batted her eyelashes and then stuck her tongue out at me.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, but only this once. After that, I will be as uncooperative as possible.”

“Deal.”

I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but I felt Addie moving. She was careful never to release my hand, but she switched it to her other side and wiggled around a bit. Her hands were soft as silk as she passed my hand back and forth between hers. A minute later, she curled up with her back next to me and draped my arm around her waist. My heartbeat sped up enough that all thought of sleep fled my mind. Her hair smelled like it had at the hospital. The heat from her body next to mine felt like a spark; all it needed was a little kindling to scorch us both.

Warning bells went off in my head, telling me to move away, but I couldn’t. I tightened my grip, pulling her closer, and she sighed. She fit perfectly against me, her waist dipped in a curve that was built for my arm to curl around. I rubbed the back of her hand with my thumb; everything about her was so soft.

It was just a dream. It was harmless.

“It’s not working, is it?” Her voice sounded sad. I hated it so much I considered pretending to be asleep to make her feel better, but I knew that wouldn’t do either of us any good.

I pulled in a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “No. I’m sorry. But it’s closer to sleep than I’ve gotten before. You know, without the hypnosis thing.”

She rolled over inside my arms to face me and my breath got stuck in my throat. Her lips, her eyes, her body—everything about her was so close. The situation had suddenly changed from a semi-harmless nap to something entirely different. The warning bells in my head turned to sirens and I started to pull away, but she wrapped her arms around my neck and held me in place.

With one small smile, she silenced the alarm, and it was over. I was done for.

Her feelings mirrored mine; I could feel them. A lightning bolt couldn’t come close to the attraction, the electricity that flowed between us. My arms tightened, pulling her closer. In the last month, we’d become like magnets, and I couldn’t keep flipping over trying to keep us apart anymore.

I lowered my head and gently brushed my lips against hers. The mist around us churned with warmth as her fingers curled in my hair and she kissed me back, pulling me closer. Any will I had left dissolved.

We became lost in each other. I moved my mouth against hers slowly, enjoying the moment. She scratched the back of my neck with her fingernails, and it was impossible to imagine ever willingly letting go. I wanted to kiss her forever.

The first explosion made me jump, and I tucked Addie’s head into my chest out of instinct. I felt her giggling into my shirt, and she peeked out with one hazel eye and pointed up. The mist parted above us and I saw the stars exploding into fireworks.

I laughed and sat upright, still loosely holding her hand. She tried to pull me to her again, but I resisted. When she sat up, she was very quiet. As much as I wanted to keep kissing her, I couldn’t. This was a mistake—an amazing mistake—but still a mistake. I could tell from the red creeping up her neck and the way she wouldn’t meet my eyes that she already felt embarrassed, rejected.

I’d been lying to myself. Nothing about this had been harmless.

The more I let this continue, the harder it would be to stop. It had to end now. I wouldn’t risk her, not Addie. She was too—I grasped for a word that would describe the mixture of fear, misery, and fury that ran through me at the idea of someone hurting her. But I came up short.

The fireworks stopped and the mist cooled. It was silent. This was fascinating. I’d never seen the setting in a dream mimic the feelings of the Dreamer so closely. I felt her emotions—disappointment, sadness, a touch of anger—but it was like the dream world around us felt it too. Even the murmuring from the other dream levels quieted. I didn’t know what to say. I could feel how I’d hurt her and I didn’t want to make it worse.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have—of course, you don’t.”

I groaned and turned to face her. “I’m the one who kissed you, remember?”

“Then what?” Her big eyes stared at me, waiting for an explanation I didn’t know how to articulate. How could I make her see all the reasons this wouldn’t work?

“Well, you’re Finn’s sister.”

Addie opened her mouth to object, but I plowed on before she could interrupt. “And I’m not good for you …
Addie, I accepted that I might not live to see graduation a long time ago, and I don’t want you to have to deal with it.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth snapped shut. After a moment, she swallowed. “First, that’s just an excuse and you know it.” Her eyes glinted with determination in the twinkling starlight, but her expression was wounded. “Whatever we are to each other, if you … if anything happened to you … I’d
still
have to ‘deal with it.’”

My word choices were never the right ones. The pain I felt emanating from her surprised and scared me. I turned away but it was no use; I felt it in my core. My life had become like a black hole. I sucked at everything and everyone around me, taking pieces of them and ripping them apart. Why should my death affect them any differently?

Addie would be better off if she’d never known me.

The mist around us turned dark and blotted out any pinpoint of starlight coming through the clouds. I’d created this gloom in her life and I could never forgive myself for it.

“I need to leave.”

She wrapped her other hand around mine and squeezed tight with both. “No. I think I know how to keep you alive. I could help you.”

“How?”

“I could convince my parents I need to see a hypnotherapist.” Addie shrugged nonchalantly, but I could see the red creeping up her neck and feel the heat in my own. “I’m sure I could come up with some issues that need to be dealt with.”

I felt my mouth open and close a few times and finally clamped it shut. I couldn’t trust what might eventually find its way out.

“Of course, I’d find a different therapist than—oh, I forgot.” Addie stared at me, her skin paling. “Mia called on our way home. You might have been wrong about that doctor not being involved.”

My brain sputtered into motion like an old car, lurching to life. “Wha-what do you mean?”

“I don’t know specifics, but I guess he died a couple of days ago. They wanted to refer her to a different therapist.” Addie shrugged again. “Anyway, she hasn’t received an e-mail since he died.”

Darkness whispered from the back of my mind. There was still another possibility: if the e-mails were from me, I’d been in the hospital, unconscious, which would also explain why she hadn’t received any more.

I hated that I could still feel him, even in Addie’s dream. Darkness was weaker now that I wasn’t as exhausted, but he was still there, squirming around in my head. Like a serpent waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. He pulled on my thoughts, twisted my emotions. Darkness was part of me—the weaker part, the part willing to do anything to survive. The side of me that believed I could keep quiet and this would all blow over, all go away.

Mia might be willing to help me now. If not, Addie had just volunteered. I could live a normal life, and no one would have to know. No one would have to know I might have killed someone.

Even
I
didn’t have to know, not for sure.

I jerked away from the dark tendrils warping my thoughts. I would never be like that. I refused to give in to the obscure and murky logic.

I had to tell someone, no matter how much I wanted to avoid it. Now, when I was stronger, when I had the power—now. I needed to tell Addie the truth.

“I know.” I swallowed, trying to keep my throat from closing up and finishing our conversation for me.

Addie watched me, waiting. Her nose scrunched up. “You know what?”

“
I know he’s dead.” I took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I saw him before my accident.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped when I shook my head.

“The last couple of months, things have been happening to me. Things I can’t explain. I’ve been seeing things. They might be hallucinations; they might not. I really don’t understand what’s going on, but I’m losing control.” I rubbed my wrist across my forehead. I couldn’t look at Addie. Not while I admitted this. I’d seen her dreams; I’d felt her emotions. She saw something different in me than the truth, something better. She saw a lie.

As much as both of us wanted it to be true, I was no hero.

“I think I might’ve killed him.”

Addie drew a sharp breath and squeezed my hand. “How could you think that?”

“It’s not—I’m not always myself lately.” How could I explain this to her? Addie’s eyes were huge, and the brown and green swirls seemed to rotate in confusion.

“Freeburg was such a pervert,” I said. “It made me crazy. In his dream, I hit him with a paperweight until he died and the dream stopped. When I woke up, I worried it might have been real, which is why I went to see him first thing in the morning. When I got there it was still early … and he was dead.”

Her skin was so pale she blended with the mist around us. The only emotion I felt from her at that moment was pure shock. “He was murdered?” she whispered.

“I don’t know. He looked like he was still asleep, but he wasn’t breathing.”

“How—” Addie cleared her throat and tried again. “How can you be sure he didn’t just have a heart attack or something?”

“That would be quite the coincidence, don’t you think?”

She stared at me, and her shock faded like stars before sunrise. “So, you attacked someone in a dream, which I’ve probably done a dozen times, and that makes you a murderer?” She shook her head and gave me a relieved smile. “No way, Parker. I don’t buy it.”

Every part of me threatened to cave in, to be happy and go along with it. To believe that my ability wasn’t strong enough, that it wasn’t possible. But I knew it wasn’t the same thing.

This was the best thing I could do for her. To shatter any illusions she had about who I was—about what we could be together.

“That isn’t all, Addie.”

Her smile slid down her face like raindrops on a window, and the mist around us froze.

“The other me, from Mia’s dreams—it’s like he’s real. He’s a part of me, in my head, and sometimes he takes over. Once I found myself in a tree outside her window. I don’t know how I got there. I’m losing it, Addie. I can’t be trusted.”

“No,” Addie murmured. She shook her head and turned away, her entire frame shaking. Her anguish struck at my heart and plucked at my veins in a more painful way than I’d believed possible.