Listen, Obey

38. Thirty-Eight Lesson

My heart beat with a strange rhythm. I could hear the pulse drum against my ear, working faster and slower with each breath as if it was preparing to either race or slow to a stop. It was a raging battle between highs and lows—between hope and hopelessness.

The constant hum from the engine was the only other sound in the car. Tilia was staring out the window, wide-eyed and innocent—but not carefree. She knew something was wrong, and she was reacting to the perceived instability with silence. She was treading carefully even though she had nothing to do with my situation. She was not at fault, and yet she suffered.

Matthews seemed to understand that I wasn't ready to talk—like always. He had a knack for that talent, and this time it came in handy.

Left to my thoughts, I tried to predict Matthews' next step. He hadn't said anything about helping me out, but from what I knew of the man, I doubted he would leave me on his doorstep. In fact, he could have driven me back to my apartment, but we were going toward the suburbs rather than the apartment blocks in my part of town. Clearly, he still wanted me in his life—for tonight, at least.

I brushed some hair away from my face and leaned my head against the headrest, hoping that sleep could take me away for a bit. Reality was too much to handle, it was too real and too unreal at the same time. Real because Sam was a living, breathing person who actually proposed that I sold myself to his customers to relieve my debt. Unreal because Matthews knew about the debt and allowed me to remain. Who took that sort of responsibility upon themselves? Matthews had no reason to help me. If I were in his shoes, I would have left the person to deal with it on their own, but maybe that was the big difference between us—he stood by those he cared about. I couldn't say the same. I hadn't been there for Jace.

"Ethan."

Startled, I sat up straighter in the seat, glancing at Matthews. "Yes?" Apparently, the time for uncontrolled thoughts was over for now.

"Who are we dealing with, here?"

"You don't want to know."

Matthews bristled, and I realized my mistake. He was, after all, a Dominant. Those usually didn't like to be questioned, especially not in such a way. He wanted to know, and I implied that he lied when I told him the opposite.

"I'm sorry," I corrected. "He's a dealer...or was one when I got tangled in his web."

"So it's a drug-related debt?" He didn't happy at all. The cold hue in his voice made me want to sink through the seat, if not the floor. The disappointment was tangible. It was something I normally didn't care two shits about, but this was different. I didn't want him to be disappointed in me. I wanted him to be well damn pleased with me.

I couldn't change the past. I couldn't undo what I had done.

"Ethan!"

"Daddy, why you angry?" Tilia said from the back, her voice trembling.

"I'm not angry, honey." His voice was softer in an instant. The problem was that I didn't believe him. He was angry, but I wasn't exactly sure why. I had upset him by my accidental insult, but his response to the situation was out of proportion. I almost laughed at that thought—how many times hadn't I blown things out of proportion since we met?

"He's lying about the debt, but I can't do much about it." I shrugged, hoping that Tilia was too young to understand what we were talking about. I sounded a lot more relaxed than I was which surprised me.

"What do you mean, lying?" The anger had receded from his voice, not entirely, but it was still a marked improvement.

"I know I owe him money, but five grand is way over the actual amount."

"Will he leave you alone if we pay."

I grabbed the seat, my hand clinging to the leather as if that would keep me from falling over. We. This wasn't his debt to pay, but I couldn't pay it. What was he thinking?

Recalling his words in my head, I nodded. "I think so."

"What are the stakes?"

"What do you mean?"

"What will happen if we don't pay him."

I looked over my shoulder. Tilia's blue eyes were wide open. I couldn't answer that question in front of her. Her world shouldn't be tainted with the foul stench of evil.

Matthews seemed to realize why I stayed silent and didn't question me again until we reached their house. Tilia ran to the door in her usual fashion while I remained in the car. Matthews moved around the car and unlocked the door, not sparing me a single glance as he walked inside.

I don't know how long I sat there, contemplating the reasons why my life turned nasty all those years ago. A mere child, blamed for the death of another. Without the reference of having a child of my own, I could safely say that I would never do the same. A child wasn't to blame for an accident, but had it been an accident? I couldn't remember. Perhaps I killed my little sister in cold blood. Would I forgive something like that? I wasn't sure.

The life of drugs was my own doing, however. My parents never forced them on me. I took the easy way out, escaping one hell for another. Perhaps life was fair, after all.

Light snowflakes danced in the air outside, falling on the windshield like white feathers. Innocent little snowflakes, existing mere moments as they fall through the air. Fleeting. I would lie if I said that I'd never thought about ending my life. I had thought about it plenty of times, but once faced with the sight of Jace's blue lips and ashen cheeks, I knew that life was worth fighting for.

The car door opened, letting in a cold wind.

"Come inside."

I looked up at Matthews' unwavering gaze. Steel blue eyes—too intelligent. "I don't want to die."

He cupped my cheek—a warm hand against my shivering skin. "You're not going to die, Ethan. Not on my watch."

His thumb brushed away a tear from the corner of my eye. "You're not alone anymore."