Leading Her from the Darkness

CHAPTER 16

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Due to the extent of my injuries, Dawson elected to rain check our date night to ensure I spent my time resting and healing. However, that hasn't stopped him from dropping by and spending every free moment he can by my side. Despite his persistent protests about wanting to stay the night to 'keep an eye on me,' I declined as politely as my lack of brain to mouth filter would allow.

There are shared intimacies in life that connect humans more than others. Trading longing gazes with one another across a crowded room; maybe a smile or two to show the effect their presence has on you; holding their hand to safeguard your longing need for comfort; sneaking a kiss, or exploring their body to find things like what makes them weak - or what sets them on fire - or scars of their past.

We've done that. Well, mostly anyway. But sharing a bed? Apart from my drug-induced coma, where I had no say in the matter, I haven't let him cross that barrier. Sharing a bed with someone means letting down walls that I am not willing to crumble yet. It means putting your trust in another human, that they won't fucking kill you or hurt you in your most vulnerable state.

Was I ready to admit that I trust him fully and completely, without a shadow of a doubt? I can't say that I am. Trusting someone like that is a dangerous game, and I'm not willing to play just yet.

As I sit out on my balcony, going over the events of the past two weeks, I can't seem to wrap my mind around just how much my life has fallen back into a familiar disarray of old habits. I have been drinking again, attending parties, going to bars, and getting close with a man that I have no business getting mixed up with right now.

I am breaking all of my own rules and inhibiting myself from the healing and change that I most desired by coming here and starting fresh. Hell, my night terrors are back full-fledged, and I am missing class and work from an attack that I could have prevented if I had only stuck to my guns and solely focused on myself.

I lean back in the over-sized wicker chair and prop my feet up on the table as I light up a cigarette, inhaling the smoke deeply into my lungs in an attempt to drown out my imposing thoughts. I watch as the cars drive by, each being blissfully ignorant to the illuminating pain of this poor girl four flights up who is contemplating each life altering decision.

I have yet to see any neighbors surface from their stuffy apartments and step onto their own concrete block of freedom since I arrived. Honestly, it's a good thing. It saves me from any awkward waves and introductions that I am no longer willing to give at this moment since I've had more than my fair share over the past couple weeks.

I hear the clang of the glass door shut behind me, but I keep my focus on the passing cars and imagine the lives led by each driver while I take another drag from my cigarette.

"Those things will kill you; you know?"

I don't have to turn around to know it's Dawson. I just shrug and take another defiant hit, blowing the smoke from my nose, watching it disappear into the air as if it never existed.

"A lot of things can kill you, Dawson. Just look at me," I usher my hand over my entire battered body as if it's further evidence to solidify my statement. "But... I'm still here."

"That doesn't mean dance with the devil, woman," he snickers.

"Maybe I like dancing with the devil. Living on the edge of the unknown. Maybe I like to stare death in the eyes and dare it to make the first move. It's exhilarating... the adrenaline rush that comes from infinite possibilities. Ones you have absolutely no control over," I pause, taking another drag. "I'm addicted to it... that feeling. Besides, no one ever got anywhere by playing it safe and following all the rules."