Page 5

“Are you hurt, love? Can I touch you? Can I make sure you’re okay?” I keep my voice low, soothing as I assess her, my hands skating over her palms, her arms, shoulders. They come away clean each time I look, no dark stains, no sticky blood, just a hint of moisture from the earlier rain still saturating the air.

I cup her cheek, my fingers sliding into the pale blonde curls that spring out in wild tangled ringlets, and the air shifts. For a moment, there’s a hint of recognition. A small spark that I hold tenderly, much the way I hold her face between my palms and gently stoke with soft words.

“Truie, doll, you are so brave. So very brave and you’re safe now. Nothing can hurt you anymore. Not a thing, love. I’ve got you now…”

Her eyes lift to mine, hazy but homed in and staring deep into my soul.

“Yes, there you are. There you are. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

I shift onto my ass and coax her to me. I guide her into my lap irrationally angry at the way her soaking wet lounge pants dare to chill her skin and make her uncomfortable. My intentions might be good, but something in my actions, or my pinched features, cracks the tenuous hold she has on herself. And as quickly as she locked in on me, she’s gone.

“Truie, come back to me. Don’t drift away a cuisle. Look at me, come on. I need you here with me,” I plead, desperate to have that light back. But I’ve lost her again to the darkness inside her.

My shoulders sag under the weight of— What is this? Failure? Yeah, feels like failure, like I missed something, didn’t grab the spark of her quickly enough, hold tight enough. Keep her from drifting away. But how am I supposed to do that when she’s so goddamn fragile that the slightest step in the wrong direction pushes her away.

She needs calm and steady, and I’m a staticky ball of barely contained chaos under pressure.

With her body held securely to mine, I stand and march Truie through the dense woods that separate Alain’s estate from Christophe’s. It’s not efficient, it sure as fuck isn’t fast, but it’s an opportunity to burn away some of that static. It’s also a guaranteed way to keep her close, to ensure I don’t have to let her go. An irrefutable reason to keep her for myself, even if just for a short time. Because seeing the light in her eyes fade into fear and then nothingness solidifies that I’m not what she needs.

Chapter 3

Taken

TRUIE

My head is fuzzy, and my body hurts. I’m exhausted like every muscle has been coiled tight, strained, and trembling for far too long.

Or like I’ve been running for my life.

I don’t run. Been there, tried that once upon a time.

It didn’t work out all that great for me back then and I doubt anything’s changed.

Instead, gentle rocking pulls me back from the edge of darkness, the corners in my mind where I go to escape when things get hard and scary. Someone normal might be lulled to sleep with this kind of thing, but for me the repetitive motion soothes. Why? Because I’m a fucking conundrum.

Strong but fragile.

Here but disassociated.

Broken but breathing.

Alive but terrified to live.

So I hide in the darkness, in my dreams, and in the silence that always seems to accompany them. It’s safer there. Or at least it seems that way. Safety is a concept I lost my grasp on long ago. It was ripped away from me along with what was left of my innocence and almost all of my trust.

It may not be the smartest move, but experience has taught me to be still. To use whatever senses I have access to and take in as much information as I can.

God, the lessons I’ve learned on being kidnapped, drugged, beaten, and… Yeah, it’s the and that fucks me up every time. The other shit? I could fill a book with that or talk for hours on the subject and still not come close to sharing all of those experiences.

But here? Right now? This? This is comfortable. This feels okay. This feels like strong arms cradling me and holding me close. Secure without being suffocating. Not restrictive. Not holding me down and preventing me from moving.

It feels like a dream. Like my dream.

“Are you back then?”

The question rumbles through my body as much as I hear it. And the voice is the one that’s soothed me over the past few days. It has only been days, right? Days since the thin thread holding me here in this town snapped. Days since I rocked on the landing of the stairs in Winnie’s house, waiting for her parents to come down off their high. Days since my best friend sent me into the woods while she called the police when it became obvious the syringes hanging from their lifeless arms signified hope. Days since we stood side by side in the cemetery, biding time and playing our parts until we could run and finally leave this town behind us.

That was the plan. To leave and never come back. To put everything that happened behind us and start over. Reinvent ourselves and… And what? Winnie has her shit together, she could do all of those things.