Every night, she thrashes in the bed, screams tearing from her throat and body
flailing. I’ve learned to be careful when I wake her. Some nights she goes into
full attack mode. Sightless as she scratches at me, convinced I’m one of the demons haunting her nightmares.
During the day, she’s back to being a ghost. Though that doesn’t seem right,
either—the ghosts in Parsons Manor are more active than she is.
And to be frank, I’m growing frustrated. Not because she’s lost in her trauma,
but because I have no fucking idea how to bring her out of it.
Helplessness is a feeling I’ve become intimate with. I can’t save every girl, but I’ll be damned if I can’t save Addie, even if it’s from herself.
“She’s going to get through it, Z,” Jay assures, seeming to note the distress darkening the underside of my eyes.
“I know she will. She’s the strongest woman I know,” I agree.
Jay nods, and hands over a bouquet of red roses. “I don’t want to bother her
right now, so give these to her for me, yeah?”
“Of course, thanks, man,” I say, grabbing the bundle from his hand. His nails
are painted neon pink today, and they’re chipping already.
“Have you checked in on Katerina?”
Jay nods. “Yeah, she’s kind of like Addie right now. Doesn't speak much and
her emotions are unstable. She’s so young and has been through a lot.”
Once Addie had gotten in my car, she had given me two names, along with a
plea to save one of them from a sunflower field. Rio’s sister, Katerina Sanchez,
and her groomer, Lillian Berez.
I don’t know why Addie had asked me to rescue Rio’s sister, only that it was
important to her that I do. Katerina is a fifteen-year-old girl who was enslaved to
a wicked woman. Regardless of who her brother is—and how badly I want to kill him—she’s not responsible for her brother’s sins and needed saving.
Caught up with Addie and getting her settled, I sent Michael and another one
of my mercenaries to take care of it. If it wasn’t for Addie insisting Katerina was
by a sunflower field, it might’ve taken a lot longer to find her, but they were able to track her down within a couple of days and get her out of there. Unlike Addie, they didn't go through great lengths to keep her hidden.
Now, she’s in one of my safe houses, getting treatment for her extensive trauma.
“Her brother still attempting to hide?”
Jay gives me a look. “You know he is. He's still in Arizona.” When I nod, he
hikes a thumb over his shoulder and says, “I’m going to head out. Let her know
I’m thinking about her.”
He casts another glance at the living room, sweeping his eyes over every nook and cranny as if a spirit is going to be standing there staring at him.
I can feel the eyes on my back, but whoever they are, they aren’t making themselves known. Jay turns and softly shuts the door behind him, while a cold draft brushes across the back of my neck.
Ignoring the phantom, I head upstairs to check on my girl. Her mother left only an hour ago, and she tends to take naps after those visits.
The first time meeting Serena Reilly was… interesting. Addie never told her about me—which I had expected, considering their relationship was in shambles long before I came along. And regardless of the fact that I found her daughter,
her spidey senses are tingling, and she is sensing just how dangerous I am.
She’s not wrong.
Cracking open the door, I peer inside, finding Addie sitting up, balancing her
journal on her knee as she scribbles in it like she can’t get the words out fast enough. A shot of relief floods my system. Today seems to be a good day for her —as good as it’s capable of being.
She doesn’t acknowledge me, so I lean against the doorframe, content with watching her write. The balcony doors are cracked open, letting in the cool, fresh air. It’s freezing in here, but it doesn’t seem like she notices.
Over the last few days, she’s been writing in that journal more often. I’m not
sure where it came from, but it’s her lifeline, and it seems to be helping her. Dr.
Maybell recommends journaling and shit all the time with the girls I rescue.
Better than bottling up all those emotions and letting them fester and eat away at
them slowly.
After a few more minutes, she grabs a tube of lipstick, blindly applies it to her
plump lips, then smacks a kiss on the journal. Glancing at me, she snaps the journal shut, sets it on the nightstand, and grabs a tissue to wipe off the crimson stain on her mouth, finally meeting my eyes.
“I see you’re still creepy,” she comments dryly, crumbling the tissue up and
tossing it on the table beside her.
I grin and slowly approach her. She visibly tenses, so I sit at the end of the bed and give her space.
I’m all for pushing Addie’s boundaries, but this isn’t one I’m willing to.
Despite my less than honorable methods with her in the past, the last thing I want to do is worsen her trauma. She’s been through enough; she doesn’t need another self-serving man taking something from her that she’s not willing to give.
When she’s ready to accept me again, I can’t promise I won’t push her past
her comfort zone and work to reawaken a part of her I’m sure she feels is lost.
But that takes time and trust.
And I’m a very patient man.
“Forever and always, baby,” I murmur, shooting her a roguish grin. It feels like my heart explodes when she offers a small smile in return.
That small gesture feels like she just handed me the entire fucking world in
her tiny palms.
“Jay got you roses,” I tell her, handing her the bouquet. Her hand curls around
the stems, and she sniffs the petals.
“That was sweet of him. I probably should’ve met him… He’s your friend,
and he helped save both of our lives. I need to thank him personally,” she says,
her brows knitted with guilt.
I had given her a brief rundown of what happened the night of the ritual—
how Jay realized the Society set me up and came to warn me. He was stationed
in a van a block away in case shit went awry and we needed a quick escape, but