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“It doesn’t,” he agreed, and I stopped. “I know it doesn’t.” That was new. No defense. No excuse. Just acceptance. He glanced at my hand again. “Can I see it?”
I shook my head.
“Please.” That word sounded strange coming from him. Especially directed at me. I slowly opened my hand. His mouth twisted up and his eyes went dark. “Sit down,” he told me.
“Don’t order me around, Dee.”
“Sit,” he ordered anyway.
“You’re unbelievably irritating, you know that.” I sat. Mostly because my legs suddenly felt tired.
Darius grabbed the first-aid kit from underneath the bunk. Mr. Responsible. Mr. Straight Lines and Proper Procedures. Mr. Kiss Cindy in Her Goddamn Cabin and Accidentally Destroy Alvin Carter’s Remaining Emotional Stability.
He crouched in front of me, reaching for my hand only to stop before making contact. His eyes lifted. “Can I?”
I nodded and tried to swallow down the strange feelings rising to the surface.
His fingers closed gently around my wrist. Nothing about Darius had ever felt gentle. Even when we were kids, he was always shoving me off docks or stealing my snacks or smacking my shoulder when I said something filthy in church.
But now? His thumb rested against my pulse like I might shatter.
I watched his face while he cleaned the burn. Eventually I whispered, “Dad used to do it.”
His hand stopped. I wished I could take the words back. Darius looked up at me. “What?”
“When I did something he thought was… wrong.”
The anger had returned. But it wasn’t directed at me this time. It wasn’t even directed at himself. “How often?” Dee asked between clenched teeth. “How often, Alvin?”
I shook my head.
He nodded once and went back to tending to my hand. “Okay.”
That was it. No pushing. No interrogation. Just okay.
I stared down at him. “Why did you kiss her?”
His shoulders rose with a breath. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit. You always know.”
“No, I don’t.” He taped the dressing into place. “Sometimes I do things because they’re easy.”
“And I’m hard?” I finished for him.
His eyes met mine. “You’re fucking impossible.”
I smiled. Pathetic. But real.
His mouth twitched. His shoulder did too. “Cindy is easy.”
I hated how much I understood. “She’s a woman.”
“Yes.”
“No questions.”
“No questions,” he repeated.
