Текст книги "Destroyed"

Автор книги: Pepper Winters

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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 28 страниц)

The commander presented us with our customary hunting knife, half-moon blades, and gun with silencer. He pointed toward the awaiting van that would drive us to the kill site.

I fumbled with the three weapons. With no place to store, I had to figure out a way to hold them.

My handler smirked. “You were always too bold, Fox. Tonight you’ll learn the hard way.”

And he was right.

That night I was shot in my ass running away from the security guards of the diplomat I’d murdered. His blood covered my bare skin, mingling with my own from the bullet wound.

Vasily was the one who helped clean and dress my wound. Only eight-years-old, but adapt at triage already.

Never again did I sleep naked. I would never make that mistake twice.

I shot upright, blinking, panicking.

No light.

Nothing but compressing, smothering darkness.

My eyes flew to the window where the stars and moon mocked me. You fell asleep before the sun was here to protect you. It’s our turn to make you suffer.

I fell backward, screaming as the memory of killing my brother—the one I tried so hard to avoid—crashed over me with a tidal wave of misery.

“Roan. Please—” Vasily’s face was streaked with tears, his nose streaming with mucus. My handler marched beside me, digging a cattle prod into my side while I dragged my baby brother along with a hard grip around his neck.

“Let me go. I promise I won’t say anything. I promise, Roan.”

My black heart had died back at the training camp, and my eyes were dry as a bone.

I knew where we were going, and I knew I would die beside my brother—either tonight or tomorrow or the day after. It didn’t matter. We were both doomed.

The moment we arrived at the pit, my handler pressed the trigger and sent a huge bolt of electricity through my body. My fingers locked involuntarily around Vasily’s neck, and we plummeted to the floor of the three metre deep pit.

My body weight crushed Vasily’s leg, breaking it in two places. His wails and screams scared wolves and owls far away from our grave.

They left us there for three days.

Starving, freezing, huddling together for warmth and catching snowflakes on our tongue for hydration, Vasily grew weaker every day. His lungs rattled with liquid, coughing and rasping with pneumonia.

Even if by some miracle I found a way out of there, he would die anyway.

So I did the only thing I could for my brother.

I kissed his cheeks and tasted his tears and we hugged goodbye with promises of finding each other in another life.

And then I broke his neck.

The crack of his spine heralded my handler as if he’d been waiting all along.

They hauled me out and patted my back and walked me back as a hero.

“Fox! Fox! Roan! Wake up!”

I jolted awake again, sucking down huge gulps of oxygen. My heart raced as if I’d been drowning, my eyes wild as I looked around the room. Zel had turned on a false sun in the form of a bedside light.

I’d done two things I swore I would never do again: fall asleep naked and sleep with no sunlight.

My skin crawled, and I lurched backward, crushing the pillows against the headboard.

Zel held out her hand, fear and sorrow misting her eyes.

I looked to her hand and shook my head. “Don’t touch me. I can’t guarantee I’ll be safe.” My voice was hoarse as if I’d been screaming in my sleep.

Her arm dropped and she plucked the sheet covering her legs. Her naked breasts glowed with warmth from the small bedside light.

I needed silence, and I needed time. Time to put myself back together.

I hated that Zel had seen me weak. Seen how truly fucked up my brain was. I frowned as panic clenched my heart. “I didn’t say anything—did I?”

She’ll never trust me around Clara if she knows what I did to Vasily.

She shook her head. “You spoke in gibberish or Russian. All I heard was your brother’s name, but that’s it.”

Fisting my hands, I forced my body to relax. She didn’t know the worst of it—she would never know how many children I’d been forced to dispatch. I would take that secret with me to my grave.

Minutes ticked past as we stayed on opposite sides of the bed. Zel didn’t say a word, but her eyes yelled never-ending questions in my direction. Every part of my body wanted to get up, to punch something, to fight.

My eyes dropped to my scarred torso. Every burn, every punishment mocked me and I couldn’t stay naked another minute. I felt too exposed, too vulnerable, too weak.

Black. I need black.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I went to stand, but Zel murmured, “Wait. I’ll help you.” She crawled toward me, ignoring the sheet twisting around her legs. “Lie on your stomach.”

My heart exploded. “You think you can touch me?” I shook my head violently. “Not going to happen. I—”

Zel kept advancing. “You’re close to breaking. Let me push you. Lie down, Roan.” Her voice danced with coaxing and commands.

I didn’t want to obey; I didn’t know how much I could tolerate, but if she was right, it might mean I could be free.

When I didn’t move, her face twisted into sadness. Her hand fell to her stomach protectively, her gaze turning inward. For one insane, wild moment, I imagined her carrying my child. Giving me redemption in the form of a new life. Granting me immortality in the form of my own creation. Her voice was barely a whisper. “This is important. You need to do this.”

The brutal honesty snapped my willpower and I muttered, “I broke the chain.” My eyes searched for the ruined silver gleaming amongst the black bedspread.

Without a word, Zel got up and strode naked to the end of the bed. Scooping up my trousers, she tore the belt from the loops and held it up. It looked like a snake—a snake about to sink its fangs into my flesh and poison me to death.

My breath rattled as she came toward me.

“I know you need this, but I don’t have the strength. Don’t ask me to do this.”

Her forehead furrowed and a harsh glint entered her green eyes. “You promised me you’d be safe around Clara, but you almost lost it in your office. I need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.” Holding the belt in two hands, she presented the taut length to me. “Put your hands together.”

Scenarios of hitting her, striking her, and running out the door filled my brain. I didn’t want to fall over the edge. I didn’t want to succumb to the rage and pain of the conditioning. I didn’t know what existed on the other side. What if my mind exploded—what if I couldn’t cope?

What if I kill her?

One day you will if you don’t break it.

The thought compelled my hands forward, and I rested my joined wrists over the loop of the belt. Without a word, Zel wrapped the leather twice around my hands before securing the buckle tightly.

Leaning down, she kissed me ever so gently on the corner of my mouth. “Lie down. Focus on me.”

I obeyed. Sliding up the bed, I hesitantly pressed my chest against the sheets. The moment I was horizontal with my bound hands above my head, I wanted to roar with rage. I hated she’d put me in such a compromising position. I hated being at someone’s mercy yet again.

Silently, Zel climbed beside me before throwing a leg over my hip and straddling me. The softness of her ass against the small of my back was the first sharp shock to my system. My hands curled as the familiar urges built behind my eyes.

Her hands landed on my shoulders, grasping hard, digging into muscle.

The urge behind my eyes spread to my teeth and jaw and spine. I went from frozen to trembling with deep-seated aggression.

Kill. Sever. Devour.

I groaned, pressing my face harder into the mattress.

“I won’t hurt you. I’m here. I’m with you,” Zel murmured, all the while massaging my shoulders with a firm mind-splintering touch.

The brainwashing spread fast until every muscle locked, writhing with the need to obey the simple decree to kill.

“Close your eyes,” she demanded.

Was she insane?

“I can’t. All I see is death and mutilation. If I close my eyes, I’ll be consumed by darkness. I need to focus. I need to focus on the light and you and this room.”

Zel didn’t say anything as she smoothed her hands from my shoulders to the centre of my back. “You have to give yourself to me for this to work. You have to be completely at my mercy. No holding back. If it gets too much to bear, tell me and I’ll add more restraints.” Her voice wobbled, but then strengthened. “You have to tell me if it gets too much. I won’t let you hurt me again.”

I nodded, the sound of fabric from the bedspread loud in my ear. The shooting pain of disobedience darted through my body. Gritting my teeth, I rode through it, trying so hard to do what Zel said and let myself go.

The silence rushed with the voices of my handlers.

Why are you disobeying a direct order, operative?

She’s inflicting you, therefore you must inflict back.

Sweat broke out on my brow as Zel’s hands dropped further. Her hand landed on my ass and my back arched in surprise. “Stop—” I growl-panted, my skin scorching with unrequited orders.

“No,” she whispered. Meticulously, she traced a finger from the crack in my ass upward to the base of my spine. Deliberately taunting me with a mixture of firm and soft, prohibited and allowed.

“You spilled some of your secrets today. I loved hearing more about you even though your past is so sad. Focus on my voice as I touch you. Try and relax. Try not to fight and I’ll tell you some of mine.” Her hand splayed on my spine, massaging the tortured muscles below.

A headache swelled, throbbing with my rapidly beating heart.

Kill her, Fox.

We won’t command again.

Her fingers feathered over the fox tattoo on the base of my spine. “I’ll start with my necklace. I’ve seen you looking at it—the star. The single silver star.” Her voice turned wistful, full of happy memories. “I bought two necklaces with my meagre savings the day Clara turned four. She was obsessed by all things galaxy and drew stars on everything she could get her hands on.”

Her fingers continued their maddening assault, calling more conditioning, more pain. I glued my lips together and bore through it.

“I bought her the necklaces for her birthday. Her face lit up as if she’d swallowed the moon. Her tiny hands tickled my neck as we took turns clasping them on each other. The moment they were on, she announced she would never take it off. She’s my star in more ways than one.” She sighed, her voice turning sad. “I bought the necklaces for another reason, too. But that isn’t a tale for tonight.”

My brain skipped between her voice and the inner commands only I could hear. It took all my willpower to focus on the present and stay lying flat.

It would be so easy to flip her off.

Her neck will snap if you use your legs around her throat.

Zel continued, fingertips pressing deep into never before massaged flesh. “I’ve had so many jobs I can’t remember them all—most of them weren’t legal. I bounced from foster family to foster family, always an outcast. I thought the world hated me—that I’d be forever alone, but then I learned I could create the life I wanted by lying.”

She repositioned her legs, straddling me higher to work deeper on my shoulders. “I have authentic looking documents from colleges around the country. But none of them are true. I forged a past from a runaway no-hoper to proud aspiring mother.

“I’ll never apologise for lying or stealing because it was the only way to survive. It allowed me to give Clara a better world.” Her voice caught before continuing in its smooth lullaby. The more I listened, the more she entranced me, and the more the conditioning didn’t hold centre stage.

Every touch was torture—stroking seized muscles, prolonging the utter madness of crashing orders, but it didn’t overpower me. I didn’t lose myself to blackness.

Her hands moved higher, thumbs digging into hard muscle on either side of my spine. “I have blood on my hands. I’ve stolen two lives.”

My back bowed as the shock of her confession slapped the conditioning away, leaving me clearheaded for a wonderful moment. “What? How did they happen?”

Her hands trailed higher, turning from therapeutic massage to gentle petting. My breathing turned heavy and rasping; my bound fists ached from clenching so hard. The conditioning came back, simmering in the back of my brain.

“I was twelve the first time I turned a man into a corpse.”

So fucking young. Like me.

The connection I felt toward Zel blistered my heart, strengthening my will to ignore the orders.

“I was between foster parents. Up till then, I’d been placed with decent families, kind and generous—I was the one messed up and didn’t let them help me. But that one…it was different. I wasn’t prepared for the jolly overly-touchy uncle to come into my bedroom once everyone had gone to bed. I wasn’t prepared for the pet-name ‘baby-doll’ to become such an irrational fear thanks to him crooning it. I wasn’t prepared to watch him strip or the grotesque erection between his legs. But I was prepared to defend myself.

“I wasn’t innocent, even at that tender age. I’d stolen a kitchen knife from a previous family, and bided my time as he climbed into my bed. His beer breath was rancid in the dark while his foul hands tried to fondle me.

“One touch was all he got before I plunged the sharp blade into his groin. It was pure luck I severed his femoral artery. He bled dry before the ambulance arrived.”

Zel’s hands never stopped their relentless stroking. Her touch twisted my head with needs and urges all while I tried to concentrate on her story. My body sparked with sensitivity. The tickling of her body hovering above mine drove me insane.

“The second time I killed, I’d just turned twenty-one. I slit the throat of a man trying to rape Clue. I didn’t even think. I wasn’t desensitized to hurting people—I avoided it at all costs—but seeing him hurting someone half his size, I stopped thinking and reacted.

“I’ll never regret saving her. She saved me in return.”

 Her voice trailed off as she leaned forward, rubbing her hands all over, wrapping me in the fragrance of lily of the valley. Every part of my body ached from fighting an unseen war; anticipation heightening my senses until all I focused on was my rabbiting heartbeat and monstrous curiosity about the woman on top of me.

Slinking forward, Zel climbed my body until she sat on her heels over my ribs. Her hands smoothed my shoulder blades, rubbing with delicious pressure.

Listening to her helped me stay sane, but silence sucked me back into the dark. My headache roared out of control, and I did the only thing I could to avoid falling into the pit. To avoid obeying and hurting her.

I was done having her in control. It was my turn.

In one sharp move, I flipped Zel off my back and rolled over. The belt around my wrists wasn’t escapable, but it didn’t matter. In a second, I pulled my naked body onto hers, pinning her beneath me.

Her eyes flared wide and panic etched her face.

“Don’t worry. I won’t hurt you. I’m still in control.” Barely.

I wanted to lick, nibble, and bite. I wanted to run my hands over her body and touch, just like she touched me. I needed to sink deep inside her to ignore the stronger urges, the more insisting orders.

She’d tried to accustom my body to gentler touches—reprogram my brain from two decades of training in one massage session. I didn’t want to shatter her hope. She’d helped, but not enough. The only thing keeping me from killing her was the tiny remaining thread of my self-control.

I was proud of my strength, but disillusioned at the same time.

Eventually, I would snap. And I couldn’t have her touching me when that happened.

I tested a wrist, wincing as the leather bit into my skin. Zel had buckled it so tightly it bruised my bones beneath.

“Get off me. We need to finish,” she ordered.

Instead of obeying, I wrapped my bound arms around her and arched my back, thrusting gently, searching for her.

I groaned as I found her wet heat. “You’ve touched me and I’ve obeyed, but now I need to fuck you. Don’t deny me, Zel.”

Her ass wiggled, trying to dislodge me. Her breasts rose and fell against my chest as I settled deeper into the apex of her legs.

“But it didn’t work. I’d hoped to fix you. I’m not finished.” Her gaze searched mine even as her legs spread, giving me room to sink between them.

My eyes slammed shut as I pressed into her heat. Deeper and deeper. I shivered as her pussy took my full length. “It worked enough.” Opening my eyes, I smiled. “You owe me a reward for behaving.”

She snorted. “Behaving by not killing me you mean.”

“Exactly.” I dropped my head to kiss her. Her mouth opened; her tongue rose to meet mine, and we began to move. Digging my elbows into the mattress on either side of her face, I rocked hard and possessive, claiming her slowly, deliberately.

Her hands landed on my ass. Instantly the headache swarmed with pressure almost buckling my control. My body froze while I focused on how delicate, how breakable, how much I did not want to kill her. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Stop touching me.”

Immediately, her hands dropped.

Rearing back, staring deep into her eyes, I said, “I give you my word I won’t hurt you, but I really need to fuck you, Hazel. Give me your hands.” I thrust upward.

She raised her hands above her head allowing me to capture her wrists with my fingers. The moment she was secured, I dropped one barrier inside my mind. Harnessing a small taste of violence, I surged into her.

She cried out with the brutal thrust, panting as I drove into her. My heart drummed with angry conditioning, fighting with sexual need.

Her legs came up to imprison my hips, pulling me deeper inside.

I growled as a fresh burst of urges filtered through my blood, almost stealing me from reality. But I held on. I focused. I concentrated. I never reverted to Ghost.

“God you feel so good. So tight. So perfect.” I rocked harder, filling her with everything I had. She was mine, and I wanted to mark her to prove it.

Releasing her wrists, I dropped my hands, forcing one finger into her mouth. “Suck it,” I ordered.

Her eyes flared and lips latched around me, dragging me into her mouth. The matching wetness and heat drove me wild. I pumped harder and harder.

“Do you feel me?” I growled, loving the sparking orgasm building in my balls.

She nodded, sucking my finger, biting with sharp, little teeth. Her legs spasmed around my hips. “You taste of metal and smoke. You feel fucking amazing, Fox.”

I groaned. I couldn’t hold off any more.

The sparking release exploded in my belly and I came, filling her with everything left inside me.

She tensed beneath me, throwing her head back as her internal muscles rippled, wave after wave, squeezing my length with delectable strength.

Her body went from rigid to floppy and a small smile twitched her lips.

Cursing the headache and the still insistent conditioning, I kissed Zel on the tip of her nose. “How can I get you to remember?”

She frowned, a sated glow flushing her cheeks. “Remember what?”

Lowering my head, I bit her neck. “To call me Roan.”

17

Hazel

Happiness.

Such a farce.

I’d been happy—blindingly happy only twice in my life.

The first was when I held Clara just after she was born. She unlocked emotions and joy I never knew existed.

The second was when I landed a job at a prestigious company thanks to a forged resume. I might have earned the job with lies, but I earned a bonus in the first month thanks to my work ethic.

Both showed my life improving, both hinted at pleasures to come.

Then I met Fox and I dared to hope I’d have a third moment of happiness.

But just like everything, it was the brief interlude before the main event.

The eye of the storm.

The beginning of the end.

* * *

I’m pregnant.

Not a whoopsy daisy I was stupid and forgot to use contraception. Not a I was sick and didn’t use other precautions while on the pill. Not a I forgot to update my shot or my coil didn’t work or the condom broke or I forgot to take the morning after pill.

Nothing like that.

No, life found a way to create something from nothing, cementing a marvel inside a womb that’d been confirmed as sterile forever.

I didn’t believe in miracles, but I did believe in second chances.

And this was Fox’s.

Roan’s.

For three days, I nursed the news. I sat awake at night, running my hands through Clara’s thick hair, imagining a future where she’d survive and grow up with a baby sister or brother. I painted a fairy-tale where Fox could be touched and loved, and we created a wonderful family from a very dysfunctional beginning.

I wanted to tell him. I went through every scenario of how to announce the news.

Every time he looked at Clara with smitten eyes the words I’m having your child danced on my tongue, waiting to be said.

But I cradled the news with utmost secrecy.

You’re avoiding it because you don’t know how you feel.

My hand fell on my flat stomach. I would never terminate a pregnancy, but I couldn’t wrap my head around holding another child. Loving another child.

It felt traitorous to Clara. I felt unfit and unworthy, and it tore me up inside. I couldn’t love another cherub-cheeked baby—it was a betrayal to her.

Wasn’t it?

I threw up twice—not from morning sickness—but from guilt. Guilt for loving another child as much as I loved Clara. Guilt for replacing her.

That was my true issue.

My firstborn will be dead, but I’ll have another. I wouldn’t have the time to mourn, or the luxury to forget about life. I wouldn’t have the privilege of ruining my own world once Clara left me.

I would have to go on surviving, smiling, living, all for a baby I’d never thought I’d have.

And it made me fucking angry.

Angry to recognise how weak I was—knowing I would love this baby with everything I was, which wasn’t fucking fair to Clara. She owned my heart, body, and soul, and she would be dead.

I was dizzy, tired, and nauseous trying to come to terms with gaining a life just before I lost one.

Ironically, I kept my secret because of my own regret, but Clara was the one who made sure I’d never tell him.

It was Tuesday, and the club was quiet.

After a trip to the bathroom to yet again scream at myself to consolidate my stressed emotions, I entered the office where we were finishing some paperwork.

Fox sat at his desk, dressed in black, surrounded by black; he looked like the son of a scarred kind-hearted shadow.

Clara lay on her stomach, little legs flying, hands cupping her chin as she watched Nemo on the large flatscreen.

Fox looked up; a gentle smile graced his lips. “I’m done here. I was thinking we could all go out—maybe grab takeaway and watch the sunset?” He laughed. “Listen to me—never thought I’d say such a domesticated thing.”

Clara looked over her shoulder, grinning. “I want fish and chips. But I don’t want to eat Nemo, so make sure the fisherman doesn’t kill him.”

Fox shook his head, eyes glowing with love.

He’ll make an amazing father.

I flinched, taking in the domestic bliss in front of me. Despite his touching issue, Fox was perfect. Strong enough to protect, wealthy enough to provide, fierce enough to love with everything bared.

His snowy eyes met mine, and my stomach tripped over itself. The message he sent was lust. He wanted me. For the past three nights, I’d sneaked into his room once Clara was asleep, and I let him tie my hands before giving me all of himself. He fucked me, but made love to me. He gave me sweet and gentle wrapped up in brutal violence.

My heart fluttered, responding to his unspoken request. I wanted him, too. Not just now, but for always.

I want this. All of it.

Forever.

My heart switched from fluttering weightlessly to plummeting like a stone. My eyes fell on Clara. I hated my sad thoughts. I despised the weakness and perpetual grief.

Nothing lasted forever. I just had to embrace every moment I could and prepare myself for pain at the end. I would miss her like I would miss my own soul, but I would live on.

I would be the universe for another child who needed me.

The pregnancy had thrown my world off balance, and I hadn’t found my feet in this new gravity.

Fox deserved to know about the new life inside me—perhaps it would be enough for him to keep his sanity when Clara was gone.

You know that’s not true. Not possibly true.

Clara would rip a chunk of our hearts out, and we’d never be the same. My shining star would burn out and leave us in the dark.

Roan stood, pushing his chair back. The energy in the room increased as he moved toward me. My skin sparked in anticipation of his touch; my body warmed, preparing for his possession.

And then it shattered.

Clara coughed. Nothing huge, nothing scary or major. I thought nothing of it.

But the silence afterward sent icicles stabbing into my flesh. My eyes flew to her, almost in slow motion.

More icicles stabbed my limbs, drawing forth agony and terror.

Clara’s legs went from kicking in the air to sprawled, her little elbows gave way, and her head thunked against the carpet.

“No!” Shit.

Shoving past Roan, I threw myself onto the carpet and gathered her rigid form into my arms. Her little body was a plank of rigid wood. Her eyes rolled back, white and vacant. Her lips opened and closed fruitlessly trying to drag oxygen into her body.

“What the fuck?” Fox slammed to the floor beside me. His large presence crowded me, making me claustrophobic.

“Get back. She can’t breathe!” I hoisted her torso upright, willing her to suck in a breath. “Come on, sweetheart. Come on. You can do it. Please. Not yet. Come on.” Her lungs wheezed and clattered as a smidgen of air got through.

“Give her to me,” Fox demanded, shoving me aside to spread Clara onto her back. I toppled sideways, tears distorting my vision. “Call 111.” His blazing blizzard eyes met mine. “Go!”

Scrambling to my feet, I ran back to the room I shared with my rapidly fading daughter and upended the bag Clue had packed for us. Clothes, toiletries, and cuddly toys went flying. “Where is it? Where the fuck is it?”

I shoved aside items frantically until my fingers latched around the asthma inhaler. Charging upright, I raced back to the office.

Fox had one hand pinching her nose while he breathed a lungful of air into Clara’s mouth. Her chest rose, then fell as he leaned back and pressed the heel of his hand against her bony chest.

“That won’t work. She needs this. She needs the medicine.” I shoved his shoulder, causing him to shoot a hand out to stay upright. His back tensed as he fought whatever urges he dealt with.

Positioning my hand behind her neck, I looked into Clara’s rolling, panicked eyes. “Suck in, okay? You know how to do this.” A flicker of life returned to her gaze, and I pushed the inhaler past her blue-tinged lips.

Fox looked like a black-hole beside me, trembling with rage and dread.

“What’s happening to her?” he growled.

Ignoring him, I pressed the trigger, administering a cloud of medicine into Clara’s mouth. She wheezed, gulping what she could.

But it wasn’t enough.

Hot scalding fear replaced my blood as her little hand clawed at her throat. Her lips turned from blue to indigo.

“Lay her down,” Fox snapped.

“She can’t breathe like that!”

“Just do it!” Fox yanked Clara from me and placed her on her back again. Planting his massive scarred hand over her chest, he pushed down hard. Glaring, he ordered, “Do it again.”

With shaking hands, I placed the inhaler in Clara’s lips and stabbed the plunger. Fox slowly removed the pressure from Clara’s chest, effectively dragging the medicine into her lungs by manual force.

A second ticked past, then another.

“One day, when I grow up, I want to be a doctor, so I can stop people coughing like me.”

The memory came and went so fast, I barely acknowledged it. But my heart died with terror—I couldn’t let her go. No!

I couldn’t stand it. I had to give her another dose. I had to save her.

Then the silence was broken by her spluttering and sucking in greedy lungfuls of oxygen. She lurched off the carpet like a drowning survivor, drinking in air as fast as she could.

I slumped in massive relief, then sucked back tears as a bout of coughing hit, reminding me this time she’d stayed alive. But the next or the next…

Don’t think about it.

All I cared about was that she was alive and breathing again. I needed to stay strong and not focus on the unchangeable future.

Awareness filled Clara’s eyes and tears welled. She reached for me, and I dragged her into my lap. “I don’t like it, mummy. When will it stop?”

My stomach clenched. I sat rocking, peppering her forehead with kisses. “You’re okay. It’s alright. Breathe.”

Clara’s breathing slowly changed from rattling to smooth, and she rested her heavy head on my shoulder. Her body heat comforted me—reminding me I hadn’t lost her yet.

I didn’t know how much time passed as I drowned in memories of her. The joy on her face when I painted our bedroom with purple horses, the way her face screwed up when she sneakily stole a sip wine. Everything about her had been three dimensional animation. And it killed me to watch her fade to crackling black and white.

A lone tear slid down my face as I rocked and stared into the past. I lost track of where I was. I lost track of Fox. All I focused on was my slumbering daughter, balled tight and fragile in my arms.

My arms couldn’t hold her hard enough. I wished all my health and strength could filter into her through osmosis. I cursed God that I couldn’t trade my life for hers. The lump of terror that’d replaced my heart hung heavy and unbeating in my chest.

I jumped a mile when a shadow prowled in front of me. Fox dragged his hands through his hair, pacing with fury that sparked in the gloom around him. “I’ve given you time. I’ve sat here for the past hour watching you rock your sick child to sleep. I told myself to leave. To let you have time together. I’ve told myself I shouldn’t care this much for a child that I’ve only just met. I’ve told myself so many fucking things…”

He stopped and faced me with furious features. “But then I stopped telling myself things and decided I would stay. I decided that no matter what happens, I belong to you and that little girl, and I have the right to know what the hell is going on.”

Pointing at Clara fast asleep in my arms, he growled, “Start speaking. I know there’s something wrong with her, and I know you’ve been keeping it from me. Fuck, Hazel, even the kid knows she’s on limited time, yet you thought you could hide it from me?”