Between The Present And The Past

DAKOTA

Pushing the door open, I walk into Dashiell's room, and both men turn to look at me. The tension in the air stays frigid as I approach Dashiell's bedside and lower the tray on the nightstand.

"You look upset," West points out, and I turn to look at him, keeping my expression schooled.

"You overheard us," Dashiell points out, his gaze softening.

Realization crosses West's face, and he heaves a sigh, rubbing his forehead.

"I should have sensed your presence," he mutters, and I clench my fists, annoyed.

"It doesn't matter now. I heard it. You can say everything to my face, can't you?"

"Dakota..."

"You don't have to make it so obvious that you dislike me," I hiss, and he furrows his brows at me.

"That's not..."

"What did you mean by 'Dashiell's descent into darkness?'," I cut him off.

He stiffens visibly, and a blank mask falls over Dashiell's features, his emotions shuttered.

"It's not important, Kota. Digging out things from the past isn't what we should be doing," he