Jaxon gets off me and gathers me in his arms to straddle his lap. He holds me tight, just like all the other times, as if he’s holding my shattered pieces together so I’m whole again. I let out a shaky breath and melt into his arms, holding on to him, thankful he’s not judging me.
“We’ll figure this out,” he murmurs, and kisses the crown of my head.
Tears form in my eyes, and I hate that I’m crying like a baby just because someone I love cares about me. I mean, my god, my mother really fucked me up in the head if I become a bumbling, crying mess whenever I receive the slightest hint of affection.
My tenacious brother feels things ten times more than others I’ve met. When he puts his mind to something and wants it done, he gets it done. I trust that he’ll help me figure this out, but the worry that this is a bigger problem than we think still creeps inside me.
“I don’t want to be alone, Jaxon. I’m always terrified because these things keep popping out of nowhere.” I close my eyes.
“Then you don’t need to be alone. I’m here.”
“It’s not that easy. You’re gone all the time, and I’m barely getting any sleep.”
“Then sleep with me.”
I nibble on my bottom lip. “I don’t know. Our parents?—”
“Fuck what they have to say.” He leans back and glares down at me. “They can try to tear us apart, but we’re stronger than that. Trust me when I say that we’ll always be together.”
My chest tightens, but I hold back the words of undying love that are bubbling up my throat. I’m hesitating because ofthe small bit of guilt from admitting I’m in love with my brother.
“Don’t leave me,” I breathe. Those three words hold more weight and meaning. Jaxon gets it without me having to spell it out.
He crushes his lips to mine and puts just as much feeling into the kiss as I do. Nothing can rip us apart, and I believe him when he says so. He’ll make sure we’re always together at the end of the day.
A feeling of something bad looming in the distance fills me until I’m unable to continue kissing him. Jaxon smooths my hair and lovingly pecks my forehead.
“You and me forever, flower,” he murmurs.
I nod and swallow around the lump forming in my throat. I won’t tell him how panicky I am that this won’t last forever.
After our cuddle session, I left so Jaxon could take a shower. I’m already aware that he’s planning on leaving soon. I don’t know where he’s going, but I’m not about to be some jealous girlfriend asking him hundreds of questions. If he plans on hanging out with his friends and riding, I’ll ask if I can tag along. I don’t want to be here alone. Especially with my mom.
I hum to myself as I make sourdough starter—flour and water that I’ve fermented for a week or longer. I got this sudden burst of energy to try something new, and I’ve been dying to make some bread. It’ll be great if I can make it Halloween themed, since the holiday is just around the corner. Maybe I can form the bread into a bat shape, or even a pumpkin. I’ll need to talk to Jaxon about taking me into town and buying fun-shaped cutters.
“Dahlia.”
“Hm?” I raise my head and search the empty kitchen for the person who called my name. My eyebrows pinch together. No one is here.
Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, I turn back to what I’m doing. I add flour to the water in the large, decorated jar I found in the cabinet.
“Dahliaaa. Dahlia!”
I yell and jump. My flinging hands knock into the jar, and it tumbles to the floor, shattering into pieces. My heart makes itself at home in my throat as I turn to face the rest of the kitchen.
“Save me.”Sobs echo in my mind, then in the kitchen.“Save me, Dahlia! Save me!”
“Save us.”
“Do the world a fucking favor and cut your wrists.”
I slap my hands over my ears and squeeze my eyes shut as the voices scream at me to hurt myself. My legs tremble, and I breathe hard through a panic attack that grips me in a chokehold. No matter how hard I push on my ears, it doesn’t muffle the voices.
“Kill yourself.”
“No!” I yell.
“You’re a pathetic waste of space.”
