Underwater (28 page)

I
was quiet for a few beats, contemplating his question.

“I don’t like the sea,” I confessed. I wanted to tell him about River. About my aversion to the sea. About my past. I wanted to let it all out.

“You don’t like the sea?” he sounded surprised. “Why?”

“I don’t know how to swim either,” I added.

“You don’t...” he trailed off and leaned back, looking at me with brows raised. “You’re telling me that you don’t know how to swim?”

“I can’t stand to be underwater. I can’t breathe.”

“Of course you can’t breathe, darling. You aren’t a fish.”

“I know that,” I grumbled.

“You never tried to learn?” he asked, all joking aside.

“I did. My dad tried to teach me, but he gave up.”

“I can teach you.”

I shook my head. “I really don’t want to. Just the thought of being underwater makes me sick.”

“But...” he looked at me, puzzled, “You need to overcome this.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean
why
?”

“Why should I try to overcome it? Does everything in life have to be overcome? Sometimes we should just leave it be. Not everything is fixable.”

He looked at me closely, like he was seeing me for the first time. “Why don’t you like the sea?”

I took in a deep breath, let it linger for a few moments, and then let it out in one long whoosh. “It took my big brother away from me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. His hand covered the side of my cheek and with his thumb, he stroked my cheek delicately.

He pulled his hand back and we kept swinging, sitting next to each other, facing the backyard. I really felt that it was time to talk about everything that happened when River died. About the stranger who’d showed up out of nowhere and saved my life. I’d never forgotten him. I didn’t think I ever would.

“My brother...” I started, “he was the sunshine in our family. He was smart, funny, mischievous, intense… you name it. He was loved and he was
happy
.” I turned my head to the side and looked at him. “He was really happy, Dorian.”

Dorian smiled a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“One night, he went to the beach with his friends. It was their last night together before he was supposed to leave for boot camp. He was joining the army,” I told him proudly. “That night, he went to the beach and never came back.”

He grabbed my hand and he held it to his chest. “What happened?”

“A fucking riptide,” I mumbled. “They drank a few beers and fooled around, and then he went into the water. From what we were told, his friends asked him not to, but he didn’t listen. The sea was angry and the waves were crashing hard, but he went anyway and never came back,” I choked out. “They tried to find him. They sent search parties to look for him, but they came up empty handed each time. Three days, Dorian...” I stifled the tears that tried to escape. “They searched for him for three long days until his body was spotted floating near the rocks.”

I closed my eyes. “Ever since he died, I had this war with myself about the sea. I loved the beauty of it, but I hated it too. It’s dressed in beauty; it lures you in until it gets you in its clutches and shows its true colors. Since that day, it never looked the same to me.” He was silent beside me, but his presence gave me the strength to go on. “I was a kid at the time,” I whispered, shivering. “But I remember it perfectly. The fear we felt, the dread, my parents’ pain and despair. I
hated
it.”

River was gone, and the pain of losing him would never heal.

“I have this nightmare sometimes,” I whispered, “where I’m underwater... searching, seeking, looking for him.” I shook my head. “I never find him.”

Dorian traced his fingers over my skin, caressing my cheek like a kiss that made me shiver with how good it felt. I just wanted to close my eyes and enjoy the sensations that his touch made me feel.

“The two of us have demons we have to face on a daily basis,” he said in a deep voice that was like an anchor, keeping me grounded. Because the truth was, I sometimes felt like floating away. Far, far away. “The secret,” he said, “is moving forward.” He bent his head and tipped up my chin so he could look me in the eyes. “Before I met you, Tiny, I didn’t want to face my demons.”

He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them again, they were filled with dark shadows. My heart ached for him. “I was kidnapped. Abused. Manhandled. Ill-treated. Starved. Filthy. Alone…” He inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly. “When I got out of that hell and back home, I thought that hiding from what happened to me was the answer. That not thinking about it would be the right call. But I was wrong.” He shook his head and smiled sadly. “I could never escape what happened to me and most likely, I never will. It haunts me day and night. So ever since I came back, I just existed. Went through the motions and endured whatever life chose to throw at me. And then I met you.” He kissed the tip of my nose, my forehead, and then each of my eyelids. “I realized that hiding from my past wasn’t the answer. You’re strong, Tiny.” He cupped my cheek with his hand. “You’re the strongest person I know and with everything else I feel for you, you should know how much I admire you.”

“Dorian...” I whispered. His words warmed every part of my body that’d been cold.

He put a finger across my mouth, shushing me. “I’m sorry, Tiny, for everything you had to go through. I’m sorry you had to lose your brother at such a young age, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. I’m sorry, too, about your dad. Sometimes, in our lives, bad things happen to good people. There is no specific reason for that. There are no explanations either. It happens and all we are left to do is learn how to deal. But know one thing, sweetheart…” he bent his head and whispered across my lips, “you’re never gonna face anything alone anymore. Whatever life throws at us, we’re going to face it together.” He brushed the tip of his nose with mine. “Okay?”

I smiled and rubbed the tip of my nose with his in return. “Okay.”

F
uck. This girl...
my girl
. The amount of sadness she was hiding inside broke my fucking heart. All that she was masking with her beautiful smile. She was the princess at the masquerade ball, but I saw beyond the mask. I saw underneath, into the depths of her soul. She could never hide from me, nor did I ever plan to let her.

“Hey, Tiny,” I murmured. The full moon glowed in the black sky above, and the soft light illuminated her face. I couldn’t stop comparing her to an angel.

“Hmm..?”

“Have you ever had a hero?” I asked, before I could think twice about my question. I gulped.
Who in the hell asked stuff like that?

Apparently, I did.

“A hero?” she looked at me, amused. “Well, I’ve always considered my dad a hero, but…” She paused and stared up at the sky. “There was this one time someone saved my life. I would call that guy a hero.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was this guy....” she trailed off while her eyes took on a dreamy look.

“Who was he?” I asked, my voice gaining a hard edge. Jealousy is such a little bitch. ”I don’t really know. I tried not to think about him too much afterwards.”

“Why?”

She sighed and looked up at the night sky again. The full moon was the only light above us. The stars were hidden behind the heavy clouds, making the moon appear lonely. Tonight, we were its only company.

“Because no matter how significant our encounter had been, it was connected to one of the darkest days of my life…the day they found my brother’s body,” she said quietly, while brushing away a wild strand of hair that fell in her eyes. “As I grew up, without meaning to, my brain tried to erase his memory from my mind. We never exchanged names. I met him once, and never saw him again. But I couldn’t help wondering about him sometimes.” She let go of my hand, folded her fingers and squeezed them several times. She seemed nervous and when she spoke again, her voice dropped to a whisper. “I always saw him as this superhero who was going to save the world.” She shook her head and chuckled. “In the first months after our encounter, I made up stories about where he could be. At first he was a superhero. Then, as time passed, he became a fierce soldier, fighting in a hostile country while protecting us... protecting
me
.”

Now I really wanted to kill the guy. She talked about him with so much tenderness in her voice – like he was something precious. Her eyes even
glowed
. Shit, I felt like an ass. This guy had clearly saved my girl’s life, and I still couldn’t help hating him.

I needed therapy
.

“I know it sounds silly.” She turned her head towards me and I noticed the new warm spots that adorned her cheeks. She blushed. She fucking
blushed
. “He was way older than me and I knew this crush was in vain. He saved
us
and I would never forget it.” She sighed, and her eyes darkened, “But it was so damn hard thinking about him
without
remembering that day.”

Before I could ask her what she meant when she said the word
us
, she took me completely by surprise when she suddenly changed the subject and asked me, “Have you ever killed?”

She asked this question so quietly, that if I wasn’t so in tune with her every move, I would have missed it. My breath caught in my throat and my heart rate increased. I tensed as the answer was obvious.

Yes. I had killed.

And I didn’t want her to look at me differently.

It was fucked up, I knew that, but she didn’t need to know what I’d done. What I had to do to survive. She didn’t know that the hands I used to touch her – to love her – were the same hands that took the lives of others. She didn’t need to know. She didn’t ever need to know, but at the same time, I would never lie to her.

Pinching my eyes shut, I took a deep breath and answered, “Yes.”

She sucked in a faint breath, but didn’t say a word. Time passed... and only the pounding of my racing heart sounded in my ears. Uneasiness crawled in. I was afraid to even look at her. If I saw
fear
flashing in the depths of her eyes, the same eyes that up until now only looked at me with
warmth
… it would tear
my heart out.

“Are you afraid?” I asked in a low voice.

“Of what?” It was strange. Her voice was small, but there were no trace of fear in the sound of it.

I jerked my head towards her and found her already watching me, her brows furrowed. I cleared my throat and asked gruffly, “Of me?”

“Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Because I’ve killed.”

“Dorian…” she started, but I cut her off. I leaped out of the swing and spun around, looking at her with a piercing look, full of questions and puzzlement.

“Why aren’t you afraid?”

Why wasn’t she afraid of me?
For so long, I’d been scared to reveal this part of myself to her. Then she happened to ask me the most bizarre question in the world, in the calmest way. As if she’d asked me about the weather. Why did her eyes look at me with only compassion and love? Where was the revulsion? Where was the fear? Where was the coldness?

Am I crazy? Why was I so angry that I found none of them there?

“Why should I be afraid?” she repeated with a tremor in her voice.

“Because,” I growled. I brought my hands to the crown of my head and pulled at my hair. Fuck. I had to calm down. “These hands, Tiny? These hands that have touched your body were smeared with blood. How could you not?” I crouched in front of her and looked up at her feeling so vulnerable there was no way she could have missed it. “If there was something I didn’t want you to know about me, it was this,” I finished in a whisper.

“You were at war, Dorian. You were in hostile territory. People tried to kill
you
. You were just protecting yourself and the lives of your men.” She took my face in her hands, bringing her face closer to mine. “How could you be so hard on yourself after what you went through there? They tortured you, wounded you, and left marks that will stay with you forever. How could you think for one moment that you are a
killer
?” Her eyes softened and her voice trembled. “You are a
hero
, Dorian. A hero. How could you think that I would see you as anything less than that?” She kissed my lips, brushing her mouth across mine. This simple touch was everything.