Her lips twist, and she shrugs, attempting nonchalance. “I feel that, too. I’ve
been seeing Dr. Maybell, though. And all this—” she twirls her finger, gesturing
to this farm— “has helped a lot, as well. Being surrounded by others with similar experiences and having something to keep me busy prevents me from spiraling. I was on the streets before, and part of me didn’t want to be rescued because I’d
have to go back to that. So, this… this has really saved me.”
She glances at Zade, clearly uncomfortable with her admission, but she only
straightens her spine instead of hiding. Sharing feelings is… hard.
“Happy to help,” Zade says simply, his face smooth but his orbs glitter with
warmth.
He’s a cold-blooded killer yet easily melts beneath a survivor’s hopeful gaze.
It impacts him as much as it does me because when you’re trapped and terrified,
hope is the first thing you lose, and the most devastating. So, getting it back…
that’s one of the best gifts we could ask for.
My lip trembles, and I can’t decide if I want to hug her again or turn and smack a large one right on Zade’s lips. I’m incredibly happy for Jillian, and it feels like some of the cracks in my soul mend just a little more.
We find a spot by one of the pens and talk for a good hour while Zade helps
the other girl with the chickens, leaving us alone. She tells me a little about her
life before she was taken, and I tell her about mine. She made me promise to bring her a signed copy of one of my books, and it honestly tore my heart out as much as it mended it. I miss writing, but I know I’m not ready for that yet.
Eventually, we leave Jillian to her work while Zade shows me around the rest
of the small village. There are classrooms for the children, workshops for the elder kids, and plenty of activities to give them all something to work toward.
The adults are also taught skills and trades that will allow them to get jobs, along with teaching life skills and giving them the necessary tools to support themselves.
Of course, no one is required to leave, but the last thing Zade wants to do is
strip people of their independence, so those who want to go out and experience
the world and lead normal lives are able to do so.
There’s even a stable with horses, offering equine therapy for the survivors.
And of course, there’s several on-site therapists, Dr. Maybell being one of them.
My memory is a little spotty from when I first came home, but I never forgot
her warmth. The few times she visited, she helped more than I realized. And sometime soon, I plan on seeing her again and more regularly.
We spend hours playing with the children and speaking with other survivors. I
even met Sarah, the little girl who is still very insistent on Zade becoming her daddy. His eyes were a warm gooey mess when they looked over to me while Sarah jumped all over him, and for one insane second, I almost said yes right then and there.
He’s going to make a great father one day, but that day isn’t today. Not when
I’m still learning how to pick up the pieces without cutting myself.
By the time I get back in the car, I’m overwhelmed with emotion. From
getting to see what Zade built and how fucking beautiful it is, to seeing Jillian and hearing about Rio—I’m a damn mess.
“Do you still want to kill him?” I ask, not bothering to clarify. He knows who
I’m talking about.
“Yes,” he admits.
“Even after meeting his sister and hearing that he’s suffered, too?”
He’s silent for a beat. “One person’s suffering does not justify the pain they
inflict on others.”
“You’re right, but he also didn’t have a choice,” I argue.
Zade sets his jaw, pulling out of the parking space and heading down the dirt
road.
“Baby, there’s no good answer for this. If you want me to forgive him, that will never fucking happen. He’s directly responsible for nearly killing you in a car accident, kidnapping you, and bringing you into a place where you were repeatedly raped and abused. What do you want me to fucking say? He’s a victim, too, and all’s forgiven?”
I snap my mouth shut. Just like people aren’t black and white, neither are our
emotions toward them. Rio caused me a lot of pain, and regardless of the person
I came to know in that house, Zade didn’t experience that. He didn’t get to know
Rio like I did, and the only thing he’ll ever see is the man who helped ruin my
life. I can’t fault him for that. Especially when I don’t think I’d be so forgiving
either if the roles were reversed.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He sighs. “You have nothing to be sorry for, little mouse.”
The gates open for us again, and he pulls out onto the road.
“Can you take me to one more place?” I ask.
“Anywhere,” he answers.
I hold up my arm, showing him the barcode Rio tattooed on my wrist.
“I want to get a tattoo.”
He smiles. “Of my name?”
I snort. “Keep dreaming, buddy.”
Chapter 26
The Diamond
You bleed so pretty, diamond. Like your body was meant to be cut up by my
knife.
I set my trembling hand down, still clutching the knife until my knuckles turn
white. Maybe I don’t need to make this salad.
Fuck, I know it hurts so good, doesn’t it, diamond? Look at all that blood.
My favorite color has always been red, and my God, do you look beautiful covered in it.
A hand brushes across my shoulder, and all of those memories come to life.
Xavier is standing behind me, ready to take from me again. And I can’t let it happen. I won’t survive it.
“No!” I scream, whipping around and sending the knife flying straight toward
his face. Does he like the sight of his own blood? I’ll show him how glorious it looks on him, too.
A hand closes around my wrist, halting my progress, but fuck him. He’s not
going to stop me—not this time.
“Little mouse,” he whispers, and that confuses my brain. Enough for Xavier’s
face to fade, only for Zade’s to appear.