Johnny & I : The Island by Daria Paus (best novels to read txt) 📗

I nodded, suddenly not so sure I wanted to hear.

He seemed to think, watching me with those deep, dark eyes burning with a pain that had never been shared with anyone.

"I was fourteen.”

I held my breath, too scared to move. Whatever he was going to say was going to be hard to hear.

"My father was an alcoholic.” He let out a trembling breath, sucking in a new one before continuing. "He beat them . . . us.”

Tears built up in my eyes. “Them?” I asked.

“My mom and Nellie.”

“Nellie is your sister?”

He managed a stiff nod, whispering a weak, “Was.” Then he continued, and I held my breath. “He came home one day, wasted. Out of his mind. I tried to warn her but she went to him and—" His voice broke into a sob.

I fumbled in the dark, searching for his hand under the blanket. I found it and squeezed it tight. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I waited for him to catch his breath.

His eyes sought mine and I blinked the tears away.

"He killed them. My mom and my baby sister. I can never forget . . . the blood, broken bones, twisted—" He turned his head to hide the tears that rolled down his face before whispering, "I didn’t help them . . . I just ran, before—before he could kill me, too.”

A gasp flew from my mouth before I had a chance to stop it. I wanted so badly to hug him, but I was frozen and unable to move. I couldn't believe what I’d heard. It wasn't until he spoke again and the words actually made it into my mind that I managed to react.

"His blood is running in my veins. I'm him, Bree. I'm like—"

"No!" I shouted and he flinched. "You ain’t nothin' like him." I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him so close my body muffled the sobs that shook both our bodies.

"You’re not him do you hear me," I cried. "You didn't do those things, it’s not you."

"I could."

"No."

"You don't know what I have—" He didn’t go on, and I was glad. I’d already heard more than I was able to handle.

The words echoed in my mind, over and over. Images of faceless bodies flashed before my eyes, twisted and bloodied as if taken from a horror movie. I choked back a sob, just imagining it was too horrible. How could he have lived with such a dark secret and no one to tell it to. The things I hadn't understood suddenly made sense. Nancy's accusations must not only have threatened his career, but also brought to life deeply buried secrets and a pain he’d hoped to never have to relive.

How much could one person take until they broke? I was certain that in most cases it was far less than this.

There were no words for situations like this. Instead of speaking, I held him, hoping that my quiet presence and the comfort of a warm body would be enough to help him through.

∞∞∞

Exhaustion and the burning fever claimed him once again. When I was certain he’d fallen asleep, I gently untangled myself. Thinking of it, putting myself in his shoes brought new tears to my eyes. So many secrets, so much pain hidden underneath that fake perfection and the sexy smiles he put on for the rest of the world. So much darkness. I was surprised he still had so much love to give. And what touched me the most, was knowing that for some reason he'd chosen to open up to me. I was sure I was the only living person who knew about his past. And I was just as certain it required a huge level of trust for him to share such a thing with me.

I made a promise to myself. No matter what happened I was never going to break that trust. No matter how much it would hurt, no matter how much I’d die the moment we'd go our separate ways. I would always remember that he'd chosen me. Not to love, as I in some naive dream had hoped for, but to share his darkness with. Maybe that was better than love? If it was enough to save one man's life when he needed it the most, who was I to ask for more?

"Bree?"

"Yes?" I reached out a hand, brushing a few damp strands of hair out of his face.

“What will happen to us?” He spoke in such a low voice I could barely hear him. The question was far from what I’d expected and it took a long time before I replied.

"I don't know," I said honestly. "What . . . what do you want to happen?" I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer, but I had to ask.

“I wish . . ." his voice trailed off and he let out a deep sigh. "I don't wanna lose you," he said at last. I froze, my fingers stopped dead in his hair and my eyes stared down at him in disbelief. Was it the fever speaking, or was it possible that he'd really meant what he'd said.

He must’ve sensed my shock, because his eyes reopened and looked up, meeting mine. "I know you must go back . . . but I . . ." He paused, as if he was too tired to speak. His eyes closed again and it took such a long time for him to go on that I suspected he’d fallen asleep.

"I'll miss you," he whispered, at last, bringing tears to my eyes once more.

So that was it. Even Johnny knew our lives were too different. He would go back to his and I to mine, and we would both miss each other. I didn't know what was best. If he would forget about me and move on with his life . . . or this. I would miss him more than I would be able to live with, but it would hurt