Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) (5 page)

God. I had to stop this. I just wished I knew how.

A 4.0 GPA from Columbia apparently didn’t cure stupidity.

I took a few deep breaths. I was okay. Nothing had happened last night. I just needed to get my stuff together and get out of here. At least the yelling had stopped, and maybe I could just sneak out without anyone seeing me.

I pulled the covers off my body, slid my legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up slowly. God, every footstep was like a jab straight to my brain. Getting home was going to suck major ass.

It took forever and a day to reach the door. I pressed my ear against it and listened for a moment. There was the low rumble of conversation, but no more yelling. Thankfully. I opened the door as quietly as I could, hoping it wouldn’t squeak, praying the way out would be obvious and easy to reach. I had no interest in wandering around some stranger’s house right now.

I needed to get back to my hostel, take the longest shower of my life, and then try again with Dare. Stone-cold sober this time.

The door opened onto a living room to my right and a kitchen on the left. Two tall guys stood around the kitchen counter with their backs to me. I only glanced at them briefly, not wanting to draw their attention, figuring one of them had to be the guy from last night. With a hangover the size of Manhattan, I wasn’t sure I would even be able to recognize him. The strong, bitter smell of coffee hit, and a wave of nausea washed over me. Damn it. Why did people have to drink that nasty stuff? Especially first thing in the morning.

“GUYS!”

Oh, dear god. The yeller was back, standing about ten feet away from me. She was this petite little pixie with bright blue hair and eyes to match. I never would have guessed someone so small—and
blue
, for that matter—could make that much noise. Her voice cut through my head like a jagged knife, and I winced, grabbing my temples instinctively to prevent the pain from burrowing deeper.

“Oh, shit,” she said in a much quieter, but still equally torturous, tone. “Sorry, girl.” Giving me a quick inspection she added, “Damn, you look like hell.”

No shit. I felt like hell.

“And you…” I opened my eyes and raised one agonizing eyebrow. “…look like a Smurf.”

She smirked and nodded toward the living room. “Door’s that way. Don’t let it hit you on the a—”

“
Ree?!
”

NO.

No, no, no…
please
no. It couldn’t be.

My chest constricted, squeezing all the air from my lungs as my hands began to shake. I didn’t want to turn around and look into those dark brown eyes.

Why couldn’t I catch a break?

Why, out of all the houses in this huge fucking city, did I have to end up in this one? Out of all the people in Amsterdam, why did I have to meet Slim Jim or whatever the fuck his name was?

Because even though I was pretty damn certain nothing had happened, Dare would never believe me. Not after everything that stood between us.

Hell, I wouldn’t believe me either at this point.

“Un-
fucking
-believable.” His words hissed out at me, tearing through my chest, breaking my heart. I turned, lifted my eyes to meet his, then immediately wished I hadn’t. Anger burned so bright in them it made me wince. Anger, hurt, and betrayal. Again.

Fuck. Me.

I shook my head, then wished I hadn’t done that either. “It’s not—”

“Save it,” he said. Each word felt like a blade to my head and my heart. “Don’t bother, Ree. We’re over, remember?” Then he turned and stalked away.

I stared after him, tears filling my eyes, unable to stop him from leaving me. Unable to speak…because there was just too much to say. Oceans of unspoken explanations, misunderstandings, and secrets separated us. Could love really be enough to overcome all this? I didn’t know anymore. I was starting to believe there was no hope for us.

I watched him retreat from me, feeling like every already-broken piece of my heart was shattering even further.

“So you’re Ree, huh?” A dark-haired guy leaned against the counter in the kitchen, his voice deep and soft when he spoke. He had denim blue eyes that seemed both foreign and familiar. There was something about his chiseled face that calmed me, though I couldn’t for the life of me place him.

“Yeah.” I nodded, the pain in my head reminding me too late that all motion was bad.

“I’m Dash,” he said, and all feeling left my body. Great. What a delightful way to finally meet Dare’s older brother. Good going, Reagan. He stepped toward me, a warm smile on his face that I couldn’t quite comprehend. Shouldn’t he be judging me, condemning me? “Let me help you find a cab. You’ll probably have more luck talking to Dare later. After he’s had some time to cool off.”

He walked past me, opened the door, and waited. I followed, the shock of his kindness leaving me speechless. The sympathy of strangers was a funny thing. Why were they all so much nicer to me than my own family? Than Dare?

Maybe it was me. Maybe to actually
know
me was to hate me.

Not that it mattered. At this moment, no one hated me more than I hated myself.

six

I
was going to kill him.

“Open up, Synner!” I pounded on the bathroom door. It was locked, but I had enough rage in me to rip it from the hinges. “Get out here! NOW!”

The sound of running water punctuated my roars. He always took his sweet time in the shower after a long night doing god-knows-what with his latest conquest.

Except this morning that conquest was Ree.

MY Ree.

Goddamn it, I was going to rip his fucking head off.

“SYNNER!”

“That dude is setting the record for Amsterdam ass.” Hawke, the bass player, jabbed my shoulder as he passed me on the way out of his room. “Did you see that hot blonde he brought home last night?
Damn
. Too bad he doesn’t like to share booty.”

Alright then, Hawke was going to die next.

My fist formed a small crack in the wood. “Open this fucking do—”

The door swung open and Synner stood in front of me, wide-eyed, soaking wet, and naked.

“Bloody hell! Who jizzed in your coffee this morning?” He pulled a towel off the rack and wrapped it around his waist. “What the hell is the matter with you?”

“What the hell is the matter with ME?” I saw red. My chest heaved, my fury spurred on by his blasé attitude. Could he care any less about the girl he’d just fucked? “What the hell is the matter with YOU, asshole? Out of all the women in Amsterdam your STD-ridden dick could’ve harassed last night, you had to pick mine?”

Synner’s eyebrow shot up. “STD-ridden? Harassed? That hurts.” He put a hand to his ink-covered heart, then looked me right in the eye. “And, for your information, my incredibly talented dick didn’t go anywhere near that girl. She was blackout wasted. I spent the night on the sofa.” He appraised me, realization dawning as he spoke. “It was some wanker who screwed her over, actually. I believe she said he was a tattoo artist.”

I rubbed my hands over my face, trying to get my anger under control. “Blackout wasted?” Ree had been high.
Rejected
and high. I’d pushed her away, left her all alone to fend off the darkness in a strange city. Fuck.

Synner nodded. “And, inexplicably, not interested,” he said. “Look, I don’t need to
harass
non-consenting pussy. I have enough willing women to keep me busy for all eternity.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Dash said, and I turned around to see that everyone else had gathered to watch our exchange. Great. “She just slept here. That’s all.” He took a step forward, nodding toward the front door. “We’re out of milk. Time to go to the store—you and me.”

What he really meant was,
Time to chill the fuck out, Dare.

“Dash, we’ve got—” Indie began, but he cut her off with a stern look. “Fine,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “Whatever. Everyone can just do whatever the hell they want today.” She threw her hands up in the air. “I give up!”

Synner laughed and said something to her, but I couldn’t make out the words because Dash had grabbed my elbow and was already dragging me out of the apartment.

“Damn,” I muttered once we’d stepped onto the front porch, wrenching my arm from his tight grasp. “Now I know what it feels like to be a little brother. Painful as fuck.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you refer to yourself as my little brother.” He studied me, pressing his lips together as he gathered his thoughts. “Look, if I’d had any idea she was
your
Ree, I would’ve told you right away.”

“I know.” I gritted my teeth, feeling my wrath toward Synner dissipate. All I had left was anger at myself.

“Dare…” Dash’s voice was low, his words barely audible. “I don’t mean to preach, but you’re fucking this up.”

“I know.” I sat down on the top stair.

Dash settled down beside me and stretched his legs out in front of him. “But it’s not too late. I saw the way she looked at you.”

“Ree…” I sighed, unable to get the rest of the sentence out. My chest ached, my head pounded. I took a deep breath and glanced over at Dash. “…has a problem.”

He turned to look at me, his eyebrows knitting together at the look on my face. “A serious problem, I take it?”

“Pills,” I said. “She can’t function without them.”

“Ree’s an addict?” The word
addict
sounded so harsh and judgmental, even though there wasn’t a hint of either in his voice.

I swallowed hard, but didn’t respond. Saying
yes
would make it real, and I didn’t want to label her.

“Things are good when we’re together. She doesn’t use.”

Doubt filled Dash’s eyes. “Why do I sense a cosmic
but
coming up?”

“Because the moment her family enters the picture, her resolve shatters and she just…breaks. They OWN her, and they break her. Over and over again.” Anger and frustration raged through my body, and I rubbed at the tightness in my jaw. “And she always gives in to them. She never lets me help.”

“Is that what happened in Paris?”

I shook my head. “That’s what happened in New York three years ago, and I could see it coming again. This time I didn’t stick around to watch her bend to their will and then descend into the darkness that consumes her.” And now I was kicking myself for it. I should’ve been there for her. I should’ve been her light.

Instead, I chose to be an asshole.

Dash didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to.

“I’ve been through this with my mom,” I said, feeling the tightness in my chest expand. “Ree might be using pharmaceuticals and not smack, but drugs are drugs. You and I both know that.” That was our joint family legacy. Thanks to our bastard father.

“We also know that it can be overcome.” Dash had done it. He’d kicked the habit for good. But my mom hadn’t gotten there yet.

My gut knotted. The mere thought that Ree could be like my mom and that I could be the cause of her downward spiral this time made me sick. It made me feel like my father—he’d always triggered my mom’s relapses. He would do something—cheat, beat us, get arrested, kill someone—and she’d start chasing that mind-numbing high again.

“Seeing Ree so broken, losing her over and over again…it fucking kills me.” My words were a hoarse whisper. “I can’t let her sink.”

“So don’t.” Dash placed a hand on my shoulder. “Help her. You’ve done it before. From everything Dalia has told me, your mom is only alive today because of you.”

I shook my head. “But I haven’t been able to fix her. My mom’s good for a while, but then falls apart again. I’m a fucking failure, Dash.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “You haven’t failed. Your mom has to
want
to get better. She has to do the work. Her slips are not your fault. There is only so much you can do.”

“What if I fail with Ree, too?” The idea was scary as hell. And also much too possible. “What if I can’t help her?”

“Just be there for her, Dare.”

“What if I’m not enough?”

He looked me straight in the eye. “You are. You already said she doesn’t use when you two are together. You’re enough, Dare. But you gotta stick with her. So stop fucking up.”

He smirked and smacked the back of my head. Just like I always did with Dax. The more time I spent with him, the more he really felt like my brother.

“I love her, Dash.” Stunned by my admission, I stared down at my hands, not quite believing what I’d just said. What the hell did I know about loving someone? My idea of love and family had been warped from day one. Sure, I loved my siblings, but that was different.

Ree, on the other hand, had blindsided me. She’d snuck her way into my mind and heart, and now refused to let go. Or maybe I wouldn’t let
her
go. She was my addiction, but there was no twelve-step program to scrub her out of my system. There was no detox to remove her from my heart. She’d somehow become a living part of me—she WAS my fucking heart. We were the same. One whole.

“I know.” Dash leaned forward, put his elbows on his knees, and looked down the street at the cars and people passing by. “But does
she
know that?”