Page 34 of Drowned In Silence
Spencer and I havekept Dynah within our sight this last week. After her powerful talk session, we didn’t want her to feel like we treated her any differently. Spencer wakes up and shares coffee with her and cooks for all of us, and I have slept in the same bed as her, keeping my distance, but allowing her to curl up into me if she wants.
As long as she is close to me, that’s all that matters. I want to bend her over every surface I can find and shove my cock inside her, but the mind needs time to heal and get used to things. I’m trying not to be as crazy as I really am, and I don’t want to scare her off now that she is finally getting comfortable.
I’m sitting on the couch, watching her walk along the pink sandy beach. She asked for some silence, so I stayed here. I don’t think she realizes that I’m watching her every move, and if she does notice, she doesn’t let on. My hands are laced together and my head rests on my arms behind me. I have myfeet up on the coffee table– even though Pen yells at me everytime I do it– and I’m just relaxing.
“I know, Mom,” Spencer says from his room. He must be on the phone, because there is no way mom showed up without me knowing. I know she’s been working hard all week, trying to get the police off of our trail, but what I don’t expect is when Pen lets on that he has secrets. “No, I’m not going to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know. Dynah has been fine now that we're here. Neither of them need to know.”
He pauses for a while, long enough to let my mind wander about what he’s hiding.
“No, it’s safe. I tucked it away for now. When we get home we can explain everything to them together.”
What the fuck is he up to? He has never once kept any secrets from me, not even when we were in high school and he showed me his dick because he thought he caught something from that cheerleader bitch.
Dynah walks in just as I hear Pen say goodbye.
I can’t even ask him about it, because I don’t want to cause any issues in front of her. I know she is starting to come around, but if I make a scene now, I risk losing her for good.
“Are you okay?” Dynah asks as she walks in and sits down next to me on the couch. “You look pissed. Did I do something wrong? I mean, I tried to stay near the house.”
“No, no. It’s not you, Darling. I’m just tired,” I sigh. I really need to fix my face before it gets me in trouble.
“Yeah, sure.” She purses her lips, reaches over and grabs my hand. “Look… I trauma dumped on you a few days ago, and I’m sorry. Just know though, that you can talk to me. It’s not like I’m going to say anything to anyone else. I have no one, Elliot.”
I turn my head towards her and smile softly. I squeeze her hand in reply, letting her talk.
“I already know you're crazy and that you’ve killed ‘who knows how many’ people, but that doesn’t change my perspective of you. On the inside you're soft and sweet, and you actually care about people.”
“You’re something yourself, Dynah. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.” I lean towards her, making a move to wrap my hand in her hair and pull her to me, when Spencer walks out of his room.
“Ew, get a room,” he jokes.
I make no move, but Dynah pulls away shyly. I try not to sigh out out loud, but my eyes reflect my disappointment.
“You good, Bro?” Pen asks.
“Yup. Fine.”
Dynah tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, but doesn’t ask any questions.
The rest of the night goes by much the same. I don’t have much to say, Dynah notices and stays quiet, and Spencer doesn’t even realize and continues to act like nothings wrong.
I don’t know what he is keeping from us, but as soon as I can get Dynah away from us for a few minutes, I’m going to have to confront him before I lose my shit.
A storm is rolling in, thunder is prominent in the distance, and rain has started to fall. We closed up the house, leaving the front door open, but the screen closed.
Dynah yawns and rubs her eyes, her body sinking lower and lower into the couch. I stand up and bend over her slowly. “Are you ready for bed?” She nods, so I scoop her up from under her legs and behind her back, picking her up and walking her to our room.
I lay her down and she smiles, pulling the covers over her body.
“Why are you so nice to me, Elliot? I don’t get it,” she asks as I slide in behind her.
“Honestly? I’m worried about breaking you more than you already are.”
“Break me? I’m not a doll,” she says, turning over to face me.
“I know, Little Raven… but you’re… you. You’ve had trauma, you’ve had people use you, and you’re mentally fucked up. I don’t want to cause more pain than you already have.”
“But–” she stops, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.