Chapter 25
TWENTY-FIVE
The stillness of my room is a lie, masking the storm raging inside me.
My knuckles are white as I grip the edge of the bed. The hum of my therapist’s voice through the phone is steady, the only thing I’ve been clinging to for the past twenty minutes, which is pretty much the entire time since we got back from the Heights Casino.
The second we stepped through the door, I bolted upstairs, ripping off my suit like it was suffocating me. I barely managed to pull on a pair of sweats and a shirt before fumbling to dial her number, my chest heaving as though I’d been holding my breath the entire way home.
My lungs burn, and my head swims, but her voice anchors me, pulling me back from the edge I’d been teetering on since Blackwood laid his hands on me.
“You can be proud of yourself, Alaric,” she reassures me.
“You’ve made such fast and amazing progress.
It’s perfectly okay that a stranger touching you was so triggering.
It’s entirely normal. But the fact that you were able to hold it together in the moment to postpone your reaction?
That’s a huge step forward.” I nod, even though she can’t see me.
“Breaking down now, after the fact, doesn’t make you weak,” she continues.
“It’s a sign of growth. You’re letting yourself process it, and that’s healthy.
This is how you heal, by letting yourself feel in a safe environment rather than bottling it up. ”
I nod again. Hearing her frame it that way makes the knot of shame in my chest loosen if only a little.
“I couldn’t let myself break,” I mutter. “If I’d… if I’d lost it in front of him, he would’ve hurt her. I couldn’t let that happen.”
“You stayed present, you acted, and you got through it. That takes strength.”
Strength. I huff out a bitter laugh. It didn’t feel like strength when every cell in my body was screaming to bolt, curl into myself, and shut out the world. When Blackwood’s hand gripped my forearm, the world closed in, and it was like I was back there, helpless and exposed.
But I didn’t crumble because Nova was right there. The thought of failing her was louder than the fear.
“Are you breathing like we practiced?” my therapist asks, drawing me back.
I inhale slowly, letting the air fill my lungs, holding it a beat before exhaling. “Yeah. It’s helping.”
“Good. You’ve done well tonight, Alaric. But you’ve pushed through a lot, and it’s natural to feel the weight of it now that you’re safe. I want you to stay close to someone tonight, a friend, or maybe Novalee? You’re not alone, and it’s important you remind yourself of that.”
The knock on the door is soft but hesitant. My head turns toward it, and I feel my chest tighten with a different kind of anticipation. “There’s someone at the door.”
“Your girlfriend?’”
“I hope so,” I murmur into the phone, a weak smile tugging at my lips.
“Good,” she says warmly. “Remember, there is good touch, Alaric. And she would never hurt you. You were brave today. You’ve got this.”
I manage a quiet, “Thank you.”
“Anytime. Call me if you need to. I’m here.”
The line clicks off, and I exhale another slow breath before I call out, “Yes?”
Carefully, the door opens, and Nova peeks in. “Are you okay?”
“I am now. Come in.”
She glides in, holding a purple velvet box, her gaze darting around. I’m glad I channeled my anxiety about the evening into tidying up earlier. The room is clean, the curtains are open, and it smells fresh in here.
“Sorry,” she apologizes. “I just wanted to check on you.”
“Why?”
Seems like I didn’t do as a good job of not letting my panic show as I think I did.
Her green eyes flick up to mine, and she shifts on her feet. “That guy grabbed you, and I was so intimidated by him. He had such a hard grip on my wrist. I didn’t like it at all. And you—”
“It’s fine,” I cut her off, though her doubt is visible the moment the words leave my mouth.
She fixes me with her don’t bullshit me look.
It’s disarming, as it always has been, and I chuckle.
“Fine,” I admit, running a hand through my hair.
“It sent me into a spiral. But I called my therapist just now, and it helped a lot. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but…
I think, and she agrees, it would be good to have someone around tonight. ”
“I’d love to hang out with you.” Nova’s face softens, and her lips curve into a small smile. “Or I can go grab Sylus—”
“Trouble,” I interrupt. “If you give me the choice, it will always be you.”
Her cheeks flush a pink shade that matches the dress she’s still wearing. That dress has been driving me insane all night. She’s always been gorgeous, but tonight?
Fucking breathtaking.
“Okay.” She sits down on the bed, the velvet box resting on her lap. “I haven’t had a chance to change yet. I wanted to show you this first, but then I’ll grab some sweats, and we can watch a movie?”
“That sounds perfect,” I agree, nodding toward the box. “What do you have there?”
Her fingers trail over the velvet as her blush deepens. “You said you felt like you died eight years ago and that you missed me.”
I brush a strand of hair that’s fallen forward back behind her ear. “I missed you more than life.”
“Well, I did too.” Her eyes meet mine, shimmering with emotion. “For eight years, I lost myself. I didn’t know what I liked or who I was. I was just… here. But I never stopped thinking about you. Never stopped missing you. Never stopped doing dumb things to feel closer to you again.”
“Like stealing the Koen Lane’s watch?” I huff a laugh. “Because, honestly, that was the best decision you’ve ever made.”
A laugh bubbles out of her, and before I can second-guess myself, my lips find hers in a kiss that’s longer than I’ve managed so far. And her touch is magic—soothing, erasing the frayed edges of the nerves that are still zapping from Blackwood’s unwelcome grip earlier.
Her lips are home.
Way too soon, I break the kiss, and she smiles at me again, almost shy. Then she opens the velvet box, and I’m not sure if I should be impressed or shocked.
Inside are at least fifty watches in organized chaos. But not just any watches. These are high-end, luxury timepieces—Rolexes, Patek Philippes, Cartiers. There’s easily half a million dollars sitting in that box.
“I—” The words get stuck in my throat. “Whoa.”
“I told you… I stole some watches over the years.”
I glance at her, one brow raised. “Some?”
“Okay, fine. More than some.”
She picks up one watch, turning it over in her hands before holding it out to me.
It’s a familiar gold Rolex. My stomach twists as I take it from her, running my thumb across the smooth surface.
It’s the same model I used to wear, though this one doesn’t have the scratches across the face that mine did.
“I don’t even know where to start with this,” she murmurs as my gaze flicks between her and the watch.
“I told you… I came here when I turned eighteen. After… everything, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I didn’t know how to be okay. But I couldn’t stop thinking about all the dreams you had for us here, and I thought maybe if I came here, I’d feel closer to you. ”
Her words are a punch to the chest. My dreams. The plans I’d rambled on about when we were teens. She’d clung to them, tried to piece herself together with the scraps I’d left behind.
“But it didn’t feel closer,” she continues.
“It felt lonely. Empty. I was lost, Ace, and I had no fucking money. Then I met Annabelle. She was working as a stripper, and she said I could try it. So, I did. I became Glitter. Put on a mask to feel closer to Rosie. Like, if I wasn’t me, maybe I could survive. ”
Her words spill out, and I see pain etched into every line of her face. I stay quiet, my grip tightening on the watch, letting her continue.
“There was this night. It was bad… really bad. I felt like I didn’t want to keep going.
Then, this business guy came in, booked a private dance.
He sat there with the exact same gold Rolex you used to wear.
I took it as a sign from you. A sign to keep going.
And I don’t know what came over me, but I swiped it. ”
She reaches over, her fingers brushing against mine as she gestures to the watch in my hand. “It wasn’t yours, of course, but it was close enough. And I heard your voice in my head. You called me your girl, and it felt like I had you back. Like you were with me again.”
Fuck.
She wasn’t stealing watches for the thrill or the money.
She was stealing them to feel close to me, to grasp at the pieces of a life we’d both lost. And I’d been doing the same in my own way, clinging to memories and ghosts, shutting out the world because it was too painful to live in a reality without her.
“I never stopped,” she admits. “Because every time I did it, it felt like I had a piece of you back. Like I wasn’t so alone.”
I stare at the watch in my hand.
God, this is so fucked-up.
We’re so fucked-up. And yet, here we are, sitting together in this room, against all odds.
“You’ve always been my girl,” I promise. “Always.” Her lips tremble as she smiles, and I press a quick peck to them, pulling the Rolex on my wrist. “Show me how you did it. How you stole all of those watches.”
Thinking that she did this while stripping is the sexiest thing ever.
The sadness in Nova’s eyes makes room for mischief. “You want a lap dance?”
Hell yes.
“If that’s how you did it.”
She quirks a brow, her smile turning sly. “You okay with me sitting on your lap?”
“Just keep your hands on my shoulders to start…” I swallow hard, my pulse already picking up. “I think we’ll be good.”
She places the velvet box carefully on the floor, then stands and adjusts her dress, clearly trying to figure out how to straddle me with it on, but the fabric is too tight. She huffs, turns her back to me, and glances over her shoulder. “Unzip me?”
Jesus.