I sniff, wipe my nose, and nod. He boosts me up, and Daya grabs onto my hands, helping me out of the trailer. When I climb out, she immediately embraces me in a hug; her hold is nearly as tight as Zade’s.
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” she cries, voice shaky and tight. I nod, on
the verge of breaking down all over again.
But then a woman screeches from behind us, erupting in jumbled words that
sound a lot like oh my God, you found her, she must be freezing. Or something like that.
Daya and I pull apart to watch a red-headed woman and another man I don’t
recognize rush toward us. A moment later, Zade jumps up, dangling onto the hatch and lifting himself up with ease.
“You found her!” the woman shouts again.
“Jesus, Ruby, don’t announce it to the world. There are still people around searching for her,” Zade snaps.
She waves a hand, unconcerned. “You’ll get ‘em.”
And he will. On the ground are two dead bodies, bleeding from what looks like their chests.
“How did you…?”
“Literally took two steps to the side and shot them both through the chest with one damn bullet,” Daya answers for him, glancing at me with a look that says, he’s fucking crazy but also kind of cool.
Approaching the trailer, Ruby pinches her hands, indicating for me to climb
down to her. “Come on, honey. I’ll get you warmed up.”
I just stare at her, my brain submerged in a pool of gelatin, slow to process what’s happening. After Daya softly nudges me, I shakily descend the ladder, my feet nearly slipping on the rungs. The woman, who must be Ruby, wraps an arm
around me the moment my feet hit the dirt.
“You’re safe now, honey,” she croons, rubbing my bicep to warm me up as she walks me along the abandoned train.
I glance over my shoulder and spot Zade a few feet behind; his eyes laser-focused on me as if he’s convinced I’ll disappear if he looks away for even a second.
I’m safe now. Yet it still feels like I’m in Hell.
PART II
Chapter 23
The Hunter
“No good news?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest.
Jay’s lips tighten, and he shakes his head. Francesca and Rocco Bellucci were
nowhere to be found when my men arrived at their house. In fact, the entire house was vacant, except for a dead man in the living room with his throat slit open, and a couple men piled outside of the porch steps. Which means Rio and
Rick fled, too. I suspect they all left the moment they found Addie missing, high-tailing it out of there before I could get to them.
The worms are slippery, but they won’t be able to hide from me for long.
“How is Addie doing?” Jay asks, concern etched into the lines of his face. He
glances over my shoulder as if he can see her from the front door.
It’s the first time he’s been in Parsons Manor, and his body language suggests
he’s ready to get the fuck out. He took one step in, and the front door shut on its
own behind him. Since Addie’s been home, the activity has increased. Her
energy has been dark, and the manor never had any warmth to begin with.
I wanted to take her back to my place, but Addie refused—stating she’s been
holed up in one prison for long enough and doesn’t want to find herself in another. So I stationed heavy security around the property, using advanced—and illegal—technology to ensure nothing gets by without my knowledge. Whatever
Claire has up her sleeve next, she knows there’s no chance of touching Parsons.
After I found her, I took her straight to trusted old friends of mine, Teddy Angler, and his son, Tanner. Teddy is a retired surgeon but has been working for Z since I built the organization, taking in any survivors that need care. His son is a nurse, and often assists Teddy now that he’s getting older.
We stayed with him for a week so he could treat the lacerations all over her
body, the open wound on the back of her neck, and pump her with fluids. She was dehydrated, malnourished, and ravaged by the abuse.
I refused to turn away from what was done to her, though all I wanted to do
was walk right back out of his door and shred anyone who inhabited that house
with my bare fucking teeth.
I’m not sure if she even recalls much of her time with Teddy. She was
catatonic the entire stay.
It’s been a month since she's been home, and in the beginning, we were swarmed with police officers and media outlets. Law enforcement were requesting her statement, and wanted information on her kidnapping. And of course, because Addie’s a popular author, it got media attention. I’m not ashamed that I’ve lost count on how many paparazzi I’ve threatened bodily harm to due to them trying to sneak onto the property.
I would’ve loved to make a fucking example of one of them. String them up
at the end of the driveway as a friendly reminder of what will happen if even their toe touches the goddamn property line.
The chaos has died down, but it sent Addie further into herself, and she’s been confined to her bedroom and cocooned under her black silk sheets as if she’s allergic to the outside air. For the first couple weeks after her rescue, she would hardly speak at all.
Addie often flipped between complete desolation, where she stared blankly
and gave no reaction, to crying and inconsolable. I’ve had a therapist, Dr.
Maybell, come in to talk to her a few times to help draw her out, and it has helped.
Seeing her like this breaks my fucking heart, and all I want is to hand her the
pieces and give her something to hold on to.
But she won’t hold on to anything. Won’t even let me come near. If I get within a foot of her, she flips out. She absolutely refuses to let me touch her, and it’s fucking killing me because that’s all I want to do.
Daya and Serena have both visited frequently, as Addie is far more
comfortable with their embrace than she is with mine.
“Alive,” I answer, though I’m not entirely sure that’s the truth. She’s
breathing, but she’s not living. “And slowly getting better. She’s talking now and
will smile and laugh sometimes. She’ll be up, down, and sideways for a long time.”
I glance down at the deep gouges in my hands, still bright red from last night.