Your Fault (Culpable Book 2)

After what Raffaella had said, plus the conversation with Jenna and the call from my mom, I spent a few days in a fog. What scared me was that they might be right. I wasn’t the perfect boyfriend. Till recently, I hadn’t even been anyone’s boyfriend! When my mother had abandoned me, I’d sworn I was never going to give anyone the power to hurt me again. No way I was going to leave myself open to rejection after that.

But with Noah, everything had changed, and I felt like I was dying inside when I thought something might go wrong, that I might not be good for her, that she would end up leaving me the way my mother had.

Her not calling me didn’t exactly help ease my mind. I didn’t understand why Noah hadn’t wanted me to come see her. My boss told me my father was going to the other end of town, and all it took was one phone call to verify that and to figure out that Raffaella was going with him. That meant Noah was at home alone. I was pissed for a moment, but as night fell, I remembered Jenna’s words: Noah is not okay. She has nightmares. All I could do to stop thinking about this was show her they weren’t real. So I got my keys and left.

It was pitch-black when I stepped out of the car. My father’s house was barely visible—no one had thought to turn on the porch light. That irritated me. After turning the key in the lock, I hurried upstairs. For a moment, I thought Noah wasn’t there because I didn’t see the light under her door. But then I heard her. She was crying. I opened the door, my chest tight with apprehension. It couldn’t be. It was dark in her room, and she was twisting in the sheets. I hit the light switch, but it didn’t turn on. Goddammit. The power was off.

When I saw Noah up close, her face was streaked with tears, and her fingernails had dug so deep into her palms that one of them was bleeding where the skin had broken. I was at a loss. Ignoring the alarms going off inside me, I sat down next to her.

“Noah, wake up,” I said, pushing aside the hair that her tears had made stick to her face.

It was pointless. She was still asleep but stirring, as if hoping to look away from whatever she was dreaming about, whatever had put her in that state of desolation and fear.

I shook her, softly at first, and then insistently. But she didn’t seem to want to wake up.

“Noah,” I whispered in her ear. “It’s Nicholas. Wake up, I’m here.”

She made a noise, and I saw her hands ball even tighter into tiny fists. She was really hurting herself.

“Noah!” I shouted now.

Then her eyes opened. She was horrified. The only time I’d ever seen her like that was when those assholes from her school had locked her in a closet. She looked around the bedroom before seeming to locate me, and then she must have realized that everything she had dreamed was just that—a dream, a nightmare, and nothing more. She threw herself into my arms, and I felt her heart racing.

“Easy, Freckles,” I said, squeezing her to calm her down. “I’m here. It was just a bad dream.”

Noah buried her face in my neck. I panicked when she started to shake and sob. It tore at my very soul. What the hell was going on? I pulled her onto my lap. I needed her to look at me. I needed to understand what was happening.

“Noah, what’s up?” I asked, trying to conceal the fear in my voice. “Noah, Noah, stop!” I ordered her because the soft approach was just making her worse. I hadn’t seen her cry like that in ages.

I pushed her away slightly and held her face in my hands. For a moment, she looked away, but then I grabbed her chin and forced her to meet my gaze.

“How long have you been having nightmares?” I asked, recognizing that what Jenna had said was true: Noah wasn’t okay. I cursed myself for believing that she and I had left our pasts behind us.

“It was just this once,” she said amid heaves. “I don’t know why…”

I wiped away her tears with my knuckles, knowing she wasn’t being honest with me.

“Noah, you can tell me the truth,” I said, disappointed that she didn’t trust me.

She shook her head, seeming calmer now. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispered.

“Really?” I asked. I still didn’t understand why she hadn’t called me.

“Of course I am… I’m sorry about what my mom said. You know it’s not true.” She hugged me. I wondered if she was trying to make herself believe her own words. Her mom could think what she wanted. What worried me was knowing Jenna was right, that Noah wasn’t okay, and that she didn’t trust me enough to be honest about what was going on…

I took her hand and opened it so she could see the wounds in her palms. They dismayed her, but she didn’t look surprised in the least. This wasn’t the first time, I could tell.

“Is it because of me?” I asked, struggling to maintain my composure, trying to forget all the things that could have made Noah relive the worst moments of her youth… My face was still scarred by the blows I’d gotten right when she was returning from Europe. I was a constant reminder that violence hadn’t disappeared from her life, and I had to control myself not to turn around and run out, since it was clear I was doing her more harm than good.

“Of course not,” she responded automatically. “Nicholas, don’t make more out of this than what it is. I just had a nightmare, and—”

“It wasn’t just a nightmare, Noah,” I replied, trying to control myself. “You should have seen yourself. It looked like someone was torturing you… Tell me what you were dreaming about, because I know this has happened before.”

Her eyes widened with surprise when she heard me say this. She got up and walked a few steps back, finally turning around and saying, “It hasn’t happened before.”

I got up.

“Bullshit, Noah!” I shouted.

Why would she lie?

“Nick!” she said, turning to face me. The only light piercing the darkness came in faintly through the window. “This has nothing to do with you.”

I wanted to believe her. I knew this had to do with what had happened to her when she was a little girl, but I thought it would end when her bastard of a father died. It crushed me to know her demons were still pursuing her. I tried to soothe her, but she observed me with suspicion even as she let me approach.

“Listen,” I said, resting my hands on her shoulders. “Just tell me when you’re ready.” I hated that the moment wasn’t now, but I continued. “You know I’m here for you. I hate seeing you hurting, Noah. All I’m asking is what I can do to make you feel better.”

Her eyes went moist. Noah had cried more in those past two months than I could have ever imagined… She never used to cry at all… And now I didn’t know which was worse.

I pulled her close and held her. She was so small…I couldn’t stand knowing something was tormenting her. Turning my cheek until I faced her, she told me, “Nick, stop thinking this is your fault.” Her eyes gleamed, her voice was raspy, and all I could think was that there was nothing else like this, and I was part of it, and I would kill for those glassy eyes. “You’re the one thing in my life that brings me peace. The one thing that makes me feel safe.”

“What are you scared of, though?” I asked. I couldn’t help it.

Her expression changed, and the transparency of a moment before was now hidden behind a wall that kept rising between us no matter how many times I tried to knock it down, especially when certain subjects came to the surface.

But I couldn’t press her, and I couldn’t wait for her to answer, because the sound of something breaking downstairs startled both of us.

“What was that?” Noah asked, her eyes on the door, her face once again looking fearful.

I got between her and the door. It must have been Steve or Prett.

“Who else is in the house?” I asked, making sure I kept my voice calm.

After a few seconds, she responded: “Just us.”

I could feel her pressing into my back.

Shit.