Elect(27)
“What the hell happened?”
Chase wouldn’t meet my eyes. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and stared at the ground.
“Chase?”
“I kissed her.”
“You have exactly five seconds before I shoot you in the face. Explain why you kissed her. Now.”
“Luca, he was standing in line in front of us, and I panicked. I kissed her, she kissed me—not very well so you’ve got that going for you—and then I introduced her to Luca and we went to class. That’s all that happened.”
“Was there tongue?”
Chase’s head snapped up. “What?”
“You heard me. Was there tongue?”
“It uh…” He waved his hand in the air. “It happened so damn fast, Nixon. Yeah, probably, I don’t know. I’m not sure. All I can say is I’m sorry. It was the only thing I could think to do. I was afraid Trace would be pissed, but she understood.”
“So you’re upset because…?”
“Well, I like living, thank you very much.” Chase smirked. Was everyone going to lie to me today? Could I trust no one but myself?
“And?”
“Nothing.” He forced a smile. “It just ate me up all day, that’s all. It felt wrong, it feels wrong; you know what I mean?”
My eyes narrowed. That part, at least, seemed genuine. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I hate it more than I could ever say, but Chase, remember, this isn’t to torture you.”
He snorted. I continued. “It’s to keep her safe.”
“I know that. Don’t you think I know that?” Anger filled Chase’s eyes as his mask of guilt slipped off, and in its place… something I hated to see. It was as if a knife was being thrust into my back and there was no way for me to pull it out.
Betrayal.
He wanted to betray me.
And there was nothing I could do except pray that when the time came… he wouldn’t.
Chapter Seventeen
Phoenix
I woke up with blood pooling around my head. I tried to maneuver my chair so I could at least sit comfortably but I knew it would take strength I didn’t have—and honestly, what did it matter anyway? If I died lying down or sitting in a chair or getting thrown into the lake?
My throat felt tight. The minute I’d seen Nixon coming into the room I knew the truth: He’d never forgive me. It would be better for me to die with the knowledge that I had—than put him in any more pain or danger. I refused to be the cause of even more turmoil than I’d already heaped upon him and his family.
If I’d had a heart to break, staring at my ex-best friend and the look of betrayal on his face would have done it—shattered it into billions of pieces and burned it on contact with the air. I could never fully explain to him the depth of my humiliation—of the horror I’d experienced when I was with Trace.
They thought I’d tried to hurt her because I was a monster—and that was true. I was sick; they just weren’t aware of how sick. I’d always hidden it the best I could. The first time I blacked out during an episode, my dad had called in the best doctors.
“He’s not remembering things! Is my son stupid?” His tone was on edge; after all he’d just spent thousands of dollars he didn’t have in order to get me seen by the world’s best shrink.
“Sometimes”—the doctor gave me a sad smile—“when people experience trauma, or continue to experience it, the senses completely shut off. It’s as if the body performs on autopilot. It looks like he’s aware of what he’s doing and in a way he is—and he’s powerless to stop it. After the episode, he doesn’t recall details, only that something bad happened, and the cycle repeats.”
Dad slammed his fist onto the desk. “So? He’s dumb? He’s crazy? What do we do?”
“None of the above.” The doctor had way more patience than I would have had. “Hypnotherapy might be advised, if you’re willing to have—”
“Out of the question,” Dad interrupted. “How do I know you aren’t just trying to brainwash him? How do I know—”
“Mr. De Lange.” The doctor licked her lips. “Your son needs help. You can’t just keep ignoring the problem, it will get worse. It’s almost as if…” Her voice died off.
“What?” I said numbly. “As if what?”
“As if your rage is so deep, so unforgiving, that even if you loved someone beyond measure—even if you were willing to die for someone… If they set you off, you’d kill them and you’d feel nothing.”
Well, that felt good to hear. Not only was I crazy but I was about five seconds away from killing those I loved.