head.
“That sounds good. Let me get ready.”
I stand and head towards the stairs when she calls out, “Don’t forget the concealer, honey. You need it.”
Chapter 27
The Diamond
The sound of Francesca’s heels rebound against the ceiling, sending my heart
flying into my throat. Daya glances upward, unsettled by the sound but used to
Parsons Manor’s shenanigans.
I, on the other hand, am having a silent heart attack. I’ve been hearing those
sharp footsteps since I’ve been home, and though they’re not actually
Francesca’s, I think the wicked ghosts in this house know they haunt my
nightmares and enjoy bringing them to life.
I curl my hands into tight fists to abate the shaking, racking my brain for something to distract me.
“Maybe I should just become a nun,” I announce, causing Daya to pause mid—
pour. She’s filling up a glass of red wine, and it feels… weird. Like I shouldn’t
be standing here enjoying wine when I’ve murdered people and escaped sex
trafficking.
We’re sitting at my kitchen island, and I can’t help but bask in the nostalgia. I
was gone for two and a half months, but it feels like years. It’s weird, but it feels good, too. To be here with her again, drinking like no time has passed at all.
Daya blinks at me, thrown off from my declaration, and slides the glass over
to me. “I love you, but you wouldn’t even last a day.”
“Rude,” I mutter, taking a sip of the wine. I cringe, the bitter taste invading my taste buds. I like my wine sweet, but it’s what Daya had in her fridge.
“You want to become a nun because you can’t tolerate touch in general, or touch from a man?”
I pick at a hangnail. “Men, which is proving very difficult with training. He
has to touch me, and every time he does, I fucking panic, then waffle between freezing up and going ballistic.”
After Zade and I agreed to take down the Society together a month ago, I felt
something shift inside my chest. A purpose was born, and it serves to get me out
of bed every morning and train.
But it’s not a magical fix-all. I look at Zade, and I feel everything I felt after
giving in to him. The magnetism, the connection, and the love. He’s given me the space I so desperately need, even though I can see that it’s killing him inside.
While I feel guilty every time I pull away, I also feel relief.
But now I feel other things—things that I know have nothing to do with him,
but with sex. The thought of it makes me want to vomit, and there’s this fear ingrained in me that every time Zade shows me any affection, that’s what it’s going to lead to.
It played such a huge part in our relationship before I was kidnapped; it’s difficult to train my brain to think it’s going to be anything else. Zade is a flirt, and while he’s made plenty of sexual remarks, he hasn’t made a single attempt to seduce me.
“And then I get angry,” I continue, frowning into my Merlot. “I lash out at him and say horrible things, and he just fucking takes it.”
“Baby girl, it’s going to take a while for you to work through your trauma.
You have PTSD, as anyone would. Don’t rush yourself.”
“I think it’d be easier if I wasn’t in love with him,” I admit, circling my finger
around the glass. It creates a soft sound that is soothing to the turmoil in my head.
“I still feel attraction, ya know? Like every time he touches me, I want to enjoy it. I just can’t. He hasn’t even made any advances. Nothing sexual, but that’s where my head immediately goes, and then I’m right back in that house with Xavier.”
“Did you talk to Zade about him?”
I take another gulp of Merlot before responding, “Yes. After we agreed to work together, we sat down, and I told him everything. Well… not everything.
Not the gruesome details. But he knows the CliffsNotes of what I went through,
and he explained how he found me. Talked about some brotherhood and told me
all about Max.”
A sadness cloaks her sage eyes, and I can tell she’s anxious because she starts
fiddling with her nose ring.
“Yeah, he… saved me, too. From Luke.”
I reach over and grab her hand, squeezing tightly. Zade told me what
happened with Daya, but I was waiting for her to bring it up to me first. If there’s anything I understand, it’s not wanting to relive certain things.
We’ve all been suffering in very different ways, yet the source of our pain is
the same.
The Society. Claire.
Daya was the decoy to draw me out of Parsons Manor so Rio and Rick could
kidnap me. Of course, Luke was the one to put her through hell, but none of that
would’ve happened if it wasn’t for Claire leading Max to believe that Zade killed his father, and then putting a target on my head. One that Max immediately jumped on, angry and intent on getting revenge.
“I’m so sorry, Daya. I’m so sorry he did that to you.” My voice cracks by the
last word, an unexpected rush of tears blurring my vision.
Daya covers her face, trying to hold in her own tears. “Goddammit, Addie,”
she snips without heat. “Don’t you dare make me cry.”
But it’s too late, a sob hiccups from her throat by the last word. I scoot my chair closer to her and pull her into a hug; my own demons be damned. Her arms circle around my waist, and we both let go.
Grief pours out through the cracks while we hold each other, like two pillars
falling together, both incapable of standing without the other’s support.
By the time we pull apart, snot is running down my splotchy, red face, and I
just know mascara is running down my cheeks. She’s got drool on her cheek and
makeup circles around her eyes. With how bloodshot they are, coupled with her
dark brown skin, her light green eyes are almost startling.
Regardless, we both look ridiculous, and immediately we burst into laughter,
which fades into another round of tears. In the end, neither one of us can tell if
we’re laughing or crying, but it feels good either way.