Chapter 24
Adora
I slam the door to the room Bones gave me with every last ounce of strength I have. A dam breaks inside and sobs tear out of me, ripping through my chest like claws. I can barely breathe.
Something’s wrong with me. So, so wrong.
Why does this hurt so much? It’s what I wanted. It’s what I needed. And yet, cutting the last thread connecting us feels like slicing into my own flesh.
Fuck you, Ghost. Fuck you for doing this to us. For destroying everything good that could’ve been. For having such a cruel, twisted mind.
I throw the papers on the side table with shaking hands, fists clenched so tight my knuckles ache. I want to scream, but I can’t even get the sound out. Only these jagged, choking sobs that won’t stop. My whole body trembles, shivering like I’m standing naked in the middle of a winter storm.
I thought I was ready. I thought I’d feel free. Instead, I can’t stop picturing his face. Those sad, dead fucking eyes.
The darkness is here again. Creeping in, oily and thick. Whispering filth straight into my brain. You’re worthless. Unlovable. A fucking joke. I know what happens if I let it stay. It’ll settle in, and infect everything. Paralyze me.
I try to fight it. Try to claw my way out.
“Okay,” I rasp. “Five things I can see… The bed. A bag. Tree outside.” I turn, slow and shaky. “Chair. Lamp.”
My breathing stutters. I keep going.
Four things I can touch. Three I can hear. Two I can smell.
“One thing I can taste,” I murmur, broken. “The salt of my tears.” And just like that, the dam breaks again. I fall apart, loud and ugly.
It didn’t work. The damn exercise didn’t work. Fuck. Fuck!
I’m spiraling. I know it. But I can’t stop.
What if it’s back for good? What if this is it — me, broken again. Forever. What if I can’t beat it this time?
My thoughts drown me, claws dragging me down. My pulse is a war drum in my ears.
But it doesn’t last long. Suddenly, there’s silence. Peace. Stillness. Calm. I can think again.
That’s when I hear it. Through that violent battle that was raging inside my mind just a second ago, a sound… no, a violin, playing a song I know too well.
I look down at my hands. I’ve been quietly counting all this time. Finger to thumb. One… two… three… four… Just like he taught me. Calling for the sun.
I stumble forward and collapse onto the bed, bones aching, heart shredded.
Why can’t I let him go? Why, even now, is it him that brings me peace?
It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair.
I’m cursed. No, I’m haunted. By a fucking ghost. I need an exorcist.
I lie still, eyes locked on the window, watching the wind shake the trees outside.
The song stops eventually, but my mind keeps drifting. A knock snaps me back.
“Come in,” I croak, not moving.
Ria slips inside, cautious.
“Mr. Dead Inside said I should check on you,” she says, voice soft. “Didn’t think you’d be done kicking his ass so fast.”
She sits at the edge of the bed. Her hand finds my hair, fingers running through it like she can glue the pieces of me back together.
“I take it the tequila didn’t help?” she asks gently. “What happened, Adora?”
“It helped,” I whisper, fresh tears building. “He signed. And somehow, I’m fucking heartbroken.” I glance at her, eyes wide, chin trembling. “Why am I heartbroken, Ria?”
She sighs. Soft. Devastating.
“Because you love him,” she whispers. “You loved him for a very long time. You gave him your heart, and instead of holding it safe, he crushed it.”
I look away, eyes closing, letting her fingers anchor me.
“Well,” I mutter dryly, “let’s hope for better luck next time. I’m a divorced bookstore owner now. According to book law, my love life can only go uphill from here.”
She snorts. “Damn right.”
“I need to go for a run,” I whisper. “Clear my head.”
“I’ll come with,” she says, patting my head. “Tank and Domino will too. It’s their job to babysit us now.” She smirks. “Let’s make them race.”
A tired huff escapes me. “Tank’s twice Domino’s size. He doesn’t stand a chance.”
She gasps, mock-outraged. “You wouldn’t believe how nimble Tank actually is. I bet he’ll win.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “You’re on. Domino’s gonna leave him in the dust.”
“Fine,” she grins. “If Tank wins, you owe me the most expensive bottle of tequila they have here. You’ll pay up tonight. There’s a party, apparently.”
I rise slowly and glare. “Deal. But if Domino wins, you owe me two bottles.”
She cackles like a witch. “You’re so on.”
Two hours later, I shove the clubhouse doors open, a shit-eating grin stretched across my face. Domino’s beside me, snickering like a fool.
“You suck, Tank!” Ria barks from behind us at the poor biker. “I hyped you up! Thought you had this in the bag! I bragged about your skills! You owe me a bottle of tequila now.”
Tank groans, clearly at the end of his sanity. “Why would you bet on me in a foot race, tiny lady? You should’ve put me in the ring. I would’ve crushed him. Instead, you chose running?”
“He really would’ve crushed me in the ring,” Domino whispers conspiratorially.
I snort. “Please. With his size? He’d just have to sit on you. End of fight.” I pause. “But I bet you’d give him a run for his money first.”
Domino laughs, amused as hell. “You know me so well, Princess.”
I stop and groan from the bottom of my soul. “Not you too. First Ria. Then Temperance. Now you? What is it with the princess shit?”
He shrugs and grins. “Because you’ve been locked in a castle by a grumpy beast for most of the year. It doesn’t get any more princessy than that!”
“That’s why?” I screech and slap his shoulder.
He starts jogging toward the stairs. “And also because you’re pretty,” he throws over his shoulder, laughing.
I freeze, stunned. There’s an infuriated growl behind me, but I ignore it. The grumpy beast can go choke on air.
Ria comes beside me. “Did he just call you pretty?” she asks, a little stunned herself.
“Yeah,” I murmur, blinking the shock away. “Yeah, he did.”
She stares at me. Squints. “What—ummm… is there…?”
“There’s nothing between us, Nosy Nancy,” I cut her off, ruffling her hair like a kid. “We’re friends. That’s it.” I turn to her fully, crossing my arms. “You owe me two bottles of tequila. Get ready to pay up.”
She groans and throws a murderous glare at Tank.
Ghost
I’m going to kill that fucker. Rip his lungs out through his throat and make myself a nice wallet out of them.
Yeah, I know he flirts like he breathes. But fuck, not Adora. Anyone else. Everyone else. Just not her. Not now. Not here. Not him.
I know she’ll move on eventually. I know I’ll have to watch her build something new, something without me in it. I’m trying to stomach that. Trying to let it sit. But Domino? Fuck that. And fuck him. Sideways.
I’m elbow-deep in a fantasy where I wear his intestines like a belt — haven’t even touched the beer Grizz left me — when a hand waves in front of my face. Too close. Way too close.
I jolt. Snap back. Layla’s staring at me like I’ve grown horns.
“What the fuck?” I mutter. I don’t get surprised. Nobody sneaks up on me. What the hell’s happening to me? I need to get a grip.
“Good, you’re alive,” she deadpans. “I’ve called your name three times.” Then she shifts, adjusts, and suddenly I’m holding a baby. A squirmy, plump bundle of snot.
“Hold,” she orders, already digging through her bag.
Shit. I didn’t even notice the kid was with her. I’m seriously slipping.
The baby gurgles. Coos. I bounce gently without thinking, and something tight in my chest unclenches.
Just a little. For a second, it’s like I’m human again.
Like I’m not just dragging my feet through mud, waiting for hell to finally welcome me home.
It’s fucking weird. Kind of beautiful. Is this what women mean by baby fever? No. That can’t be right.
“You and Joker sharing custody now?” I ask.
“Not yet,” she says, still rummaging. “Next week. We agreed to wait six months before overnights. I’m just here to talk to Sketch about a job at the tattoo studio.” She looks up, and smiles gently. “Joker will be watching the little monkey while I do that.”
“You know that job’s yours, right?” I grunt, still bouncing the baby. “Sketch better not pull some interview bullshit on you. I’ll break his neck.”
Layla laughs. “Jesus, Ghost. Hold your horses. He didn’t even hire a temp while I was out. It’s just about setting the schedule.”
“Ah, there it is,” she declares loudly, and slaps a card on the bar. “That,” she says, jabbing a finger at it, “is your new therapist.”
I open my mouth to tell her exactly where she can shove that card, but she cuts me off with a glare that could skin a man alive.
“Don’t. Mama asked me to find someone for you. I got this card from Temperance. She swears by the woman. You’re going. I already called, and your first session is tomorrow. Two PM. Emergency appointment.”
“Layla,” I sigh, teeth clenched. “I’ve seen seven therapists. Seven. None of them worked. I need a fucking break.”
She crosses her arms. Unmoved. “Then she’ll be number eight. And if she doesn’t work, you’ll try a ninth. And a tenth.”
I shake my head. Baby still bouncing. “I can’t go. I’m watching Adora—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she cuts in, waving that off. “I know the whole damn thing. Temperance filled me in. Adora won’t be alone. You’re not her official bodyguard, are you? You can take an hour off. Her voice gets hard. “You will take an hour off. For this.”
She leans in, voice like steel. “Do you not want to get better? Do you want to just keep pretending that you’re fine?”
I look away, trying to avoid the accusation lingering in her eyes.
“You hurt the woman you claim to love. And not just her, Ghost. You’ve been hurting us — your family — too. For years.”
I frown, a little thrown off. “What the hell are you talking about?”