Caveman

Ow. “The same way he uses alcohol? What do you mean?”


Tessa stands up from the bed and sighs. “To get numb.”

“Numb? Why?”

But she’s already striding across the room, heading out. “Come on. Let’s go. We can talk more later.”



Funny how saying goodbye to Bella is hard, even though we’ll still live in the same town, and I’ll be seeing her. I’ll even go back to get more of my things, boxes and bags.

Living with someone is different, though. We know each other’s quirks—what we like for breakfast, and how we like to be woken up, what TV programs we like and which we hate, and nobody can whip up a good evening of gossip and fun like a roommate who knows you.

Tessa drives a white Jeep Cherokee with pristine leather seats and a stereo that makes me feel as if I’m at a concert. I hate to say it, because she’s really nice and hey, luxury isn’t something I dislike, but I feel a bit uneasy. As if I shouldn’t be stepping on the car mats not to dirty them, or something.

“So… Thanks for putting me up.” I get more nervous as we park outside a modern building with large bay windows and a chrome-and-glass entrance. My voice squeaks a little as I continue, “It’s just for a few days.”

“It’s no hassle,” Tessa says and opens her door. “Let’s get your things up, then I’ll park properly.”

“Do you always dress up like that on Saturday mornings?” I ask as we take the elevator to her apartment. “I mean,” I wince, “it’s pretty.”

Tessa laughs. “It’s horrible, isn’t it? I’m dressed like my mother.” We step out of the elevator, and she unlocks her door. “My parents are in town, and I’m forced to have breakfast with them.”

“Forced?” I wonder if I misheard as I haul my huge suitcase into a spotless living room that’s bigger than Bella’s apartment. The view of the lake from the bay window is breathtaking. I didn’t realize we’re so close to the water.

I shiver.

“At gun point,” Tessa mutters. “Well, almost. Extortion, know what I mean?”

Not really.

“If I don’t dress up all clean and proper, they have a hissy fit. And our relationship is bad enough as it is.” She takes off her high heels and sinks onto her enormous sofa.

A huge flat screen TV is set in the opposite wall, framed by enormous speakers. The carpet looks Persian. I doubt it’s an imitation.

Holy shit. How much money does she have?

“Your room is that one, on your right.” She points, and I can’t help noticing her nails are French manicured. God, isn’t there a single drop of rebellion in this girl’s veins?

“Thanks, Tessa.” I haul my luggage across the room to a gray door. I push it open cautiously and find myself in a small but immaculate bedroom with a large window. “Wow.”

“My parents don’t like anyone staying here,” Tessa says, coming to stand at the door, barefoot, and still looking like a cover model. “But we won’t tell them.”

“The apartment belongs to your parents?” I set my suitcase on the bed and open it. Clothes, shoes and notebooks spill out. My tablet and MP3 player are safely tucked in my handbag. Thank God for ebooks, or my luggage would weigh a ton.

“Yeah. The apartment and everything in it. Including me.” She wanders inside the room. “Well, technically, they rent it, but you know… Same principle.”

Right… Her parents sure sound like a bunch of laughs. I can’t imagine their reaction if they find out a punk rock chick is staying at their daughter’s perfect apartment. They’ll probably call a cleaning and disinfection service.

I wince and sit on the bed. “Tell me about Zane. You’ve known him a long time, right?”

“Went to school with him.” She sits next to me, then flops on her back, and I like the fact she doesn’t seem to care about spoiling her perfect hairdo. “We were never very close, but yeah, I know him quite well. He and Asher are besties, and Asher used to be besties with Audrey, who is my bestie.”

I try to work this out. “Asher stopped being besties with Audrey?”

“Yeah, because he was in love with her. So he stopped talking to her.”

“This makes no sense.”

“Boys make no sense, girl.” Tessa sighs and closes her eyes. “Attraction makes no sense. Don’t you know that?”

No, but I can imagine. I mean, my limited experience with boys almost got me killed.

“So Zane doesn’t give his phone number. And he doesn’t kiss.” I picture his mouth, his full upper lip and the way he grins, and my body tightens. “Like, ever?”

“That’s what I’ve heard. I’m not interested in Zane that way, so I never paid much attention.”

“Who are you interested in?” I try to recall our meetings with the guys. “It’s Dylan, isn’t it? That guy with the big shoulders.”

She doesn’t speak, and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. Then, without opening her eyes, she says, “He used to be a quarterback at school.”

Makes sense. With that body… “Does he still play?”

“No.” She sits up suddenly. “He stopped.”

I sense a sad story there, but Tessa stands up, making it clear that this conversation is over.

“Make yourself at home. I’ll make a few phone calls, see if I can find you a more permanent roommate.”

But I want Zane. God, what’s wrong with me? Haven’t I made up my mind that’s a bad and in any case impossible idea?

“Hey, Tessa.” I wait until she turns. “If I asked you for Zane’s phone number, would you give it to me?”

The curiosity in her gaze turns into pity. “You have a crush on him, don’t you?”

I can’t deny it. Hi, my name is Dakota, and I have a crush on Zane Madden, the Manwhore. Someone please shoot me.

“He’s a great guy,” she says. “But be careful with your heart.”

“Never mind,” I say, bowing my head, and listen to her leave.





Part Two





Zane




Some memories are hazy.

And some are too damn clear. I do my best to bury them deep, where they won’t intrude on my everyday life. Just looking at me, you probably can’t tell how close to the surface the nightmares live. But throw in a random trigger, and I’m drowning in the past. It’s like flicking a switch, opening the gate and letting the horror in.

Icy water. Hands like vises digging into my arms and legs. No air. Suffocation. Panic. The certainty I’m gonna die. That no matter how hard I struggle, I won’t make it.

Yet I still try. I always try to escape.

And I always fail.





Chapter Five





Zane




Driving to my sister’s has never felt like a trip to hell before. She’s been sick for a while, but I held out hope—until now.

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