Page 60 of Dark

“On the bright side? Don’t have to worry about her and Mom getting along—"

“You think this is funny? She scared the crap out of me.”

“You love her.”

There was a smile in his voice. A strange knot of hope and despair coiled tight in my chest, the memory of pizza in bed and chocolate-flavored toe-kisses forcing its way up. “How can I know if I’m good for her?”

“Think probably every guy out there asks himself that at one point or another. Part of being in love.”

I studied his face. “Have you ever—”

The room grew quiet but for the sound of cicadas humming out in the warm Texas night.

“Once.” He stretched out in the chair, lean frame all corners and edges. “A long time ago.”

Everything came spilling out after that. Brody confronting me. The way I’d been avoiding Hays. My humiliation after nearly passing out when Brody had forced me to submit.

“What the hell is wrong with me? It’s like I just sort of… switch off.”

“Without knowing any more details? You experienced a lot of trauma early on. And the thing about our wolves is they’ll do damn near anything to keep us from being vulnerable. You would be more susceptible than most to being triggered whenever you felt out of control. It could cause a host of physical and psychological symptoms—panic attacks, withdrawal from relationships, outbursts, temporary blackouts.”

“Sounds about right.” I swallowed, suddenly pretty sure I was going to puke.

“You were a little kid, abandoned by everyone who should have protected you. Your parents died. Your grandparents didn’t or couldn’t step up. Foster care failed you. That’s a lot of trauma for anyone to go through, and it was three years before you came to live with us.”

Shoving up my glasses, I rubbed my eyes, glad if this had to happen in front of anyone, it was Cal. “So how do I fix it?”

“You ever talk about any of this in your sessions?”

“We talk about the silver. And about Dad.” I thought back to the trailer park when Brody had forced me to submit, that sensation of sheer, utter helplessness as I screamed with every cell in my body to get free.

“A professor I had in college used to say there’s no shortcuts in therapy. You deal with your past shit if you want space for something better to come into your life.” Cal rubbed his beard. “Seems like you’ve got a real chance for that now.”

Footsteps sounded from down the hall. Hayden padded over to us in a pair of my mom’s yoga pants and one of my old hoodies, arms crossed and eyes red-rimmed.

Cal rose. “I’m heading out.”

I nodded, catching Hayden’s hand. She burrowed her face into the crook of my neck, tucking her hands into the back pockets of my jeans. I slid a hand to the small of her back, up under her tank, fitting our bodies together so it was impossible to tell where she ended and I began.

“Am I gonna have any clothes left by laundry day?”

She blew out a breath, a few dark tendrils of hair that had escaped the messy knot on top of her head dancing against her cheeks.

“I don’t know. You. Sumatra. A pair of boxers—”

“Yeah. You are not naming my wolf.”

She sighed against my collarbone. “Ellie’s freaking out.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That we don’t know anything yet. Best guess is it was someone Dad owed money to.”

“It’s not a great cover story. But we don’t have a lot of options.”

“Ellie isn’t stupid. She’s going to put the pieces together. And we have to figure out what we’re going to do when she does.”

I watched her pace over to the window, eyes pale as starlight as she gazed out at the still night. “You hungry?”