In His Keeping (Slow Burn #2)

“But I allowed them to,” Ari continued. “What I have to say, what you must hear from me will be very hard for you to hear. And even harder to accept. But I’m asking you to trust me. If you’ve ever loved me, as I know you do. If you’ve ever had faith in me, as you always have. Then trust me now and listen to what I must tell you.” Ari sucked in a shallow breath so her body wouldn’t betray a larger motion. “And accept what I must do.”


Worry flickered in her father’s eyes, raw emotion etched in his features. His back was to the cameras and he stood there a long moment before visibly composing himself and then straightening as if he’d simply shared a private, intimate moment with his wife and shared his worry for their daughter with her for the briefest of moments.

“I allowed them to overload me,” Ari said. “So much has happened since you went missing. So much I’ve learned about myself. My powers. Still so much untapped. Undiscovered. And yet I know there is so much I can do. More than I ever would have thought possible.”

Though her mother didn’t voice her question aloud, Ari could see it clearly in her eyes.

“I went through a series of tests that were in fact very easy,” she explained. “But I purposely thought of things that would put unbearable strain on me so they would see me in psychic overload. So they would see me experiencing a psychic bleed. I needed them to be disgusted or perhaps disappointed or even believe I was worthless to them. At least until I could find you and Dad. Because when they come for me again—and they will—you have to be ready. And you must do exactly as I tell you. It’s the only way I can keep you both safe when I bring the rest of this place down and reduce it to rubble, taking every sadistic son of a bitch with it.”

Shock registered in her mother’s eyes, and she quickly dropped her gaze to hide her response. Though Ari could no longer see her father, she could feel him close, could feel the instant coil and snap of tension within him. It went against his every instinct to willingly allow his daughter to go into a dangerous situation while he hung back waiting to be “saved.”

He would be the one hardest to convince and this is where she had to win her mother over so she could rein him in.

She sent her mother a pleading look, begging her to understand. Begging her to trust Ari. To have faith in Ari’s abilities.

Her mother’s hand tightened around Ari’s, squeezing just a little.

“Go on,” her mom said without moving her lips.

“I am very powerful,” Ari said honestly. “These men are no match for me and I need you to trust in that. To know I’ll be safe and to understand that the way I came to you was my choice. I had to know where you were. That you were still alive. Because when the time comes, I’ll be able to provide a protective barrier around you, but you must stay. No matter what you see, what you hear, what you think. You have to stay here while the house is destroyed around you.”

She could hear her father’s sudden expulsion of breath and then the acceleration of his respirations. Again, she glanced pleadingly up at her mother, asking for her help in convincing her dad.

Once more her mother squeezed her hand, this time with no hesitation. And what Ari saw reflected in her mom’s eyes staggered her. Love—of course. But also trust. And . . . pride. It shone like a beacon in her mother’s eyes. It lit her face, etched into every facet of her expression.

Ari blinked back tears, squeezing her mother’s hand and holding on. Simply holding on to that tangible link between mother and daughter. A bond like no other. Irreplaceable. Unwavering. Old as time itself. There truly was nothing like the love of a mother. Unconditional. Solid. Indefinable and limitless. Capable of surviving anything. Able to triumph over the impossible.

And Ari would triumph. She believed in herself, just as her mother believed in her. She wasn’t a freak of nature. Some accident of birth to be studied, examined or controlled. She did have a purpose. She was special.

It had taken her twenty-four years to understand her purpose. To accept it and embrace it. Not to shy away from it, duck it, or suppress or ignore it. Never again. It was an integral part of who and what she was.

And now it would save the people she loved and the people who loved her more than anything in the world.

Blood didn’t make a family.

Love did.

“Dad,” she called softly, not loud enough to be heard but enough that her mother would somehow let him know to get within hearing range.

“Gavin, come here, please,” Ginger said in concern. “Did you see she bled from her ears? Why on earth would something like this happen?”

Ari wanted to smile. And then she felt the warmth seep into her chilled body as both mother and father flanked her once more.

“Dad,” she whispered again.

“I’m here,” he murmured.

“You have to protect Mom.”

It was a manipulative, dirty trick, but she knew by appealing to the protector in her father that while he might be forced to stand down and not take an active role in his daughter’s protection, he certainly wouldn’t do anything that would bring her mother harm.