Chapter 25 #2
Wrecks bangs into the table leg, sloshing the orange juice in Grant’s glass onto the table, then flops his big furry body onto my feet.
“I’m ready,” I say, and actually mean it. “I’ll just say goodbye.”
Me: I’ll check in later.
Me: I love you guys.
Madi: Don’t go too long… We’re worried sick. We need to know you’re okay.
Savvy: Love you.
Elle: Be safe.
Madi: Photo sent
“Oh my God.” A smile so big it hurts my cheeks doesn’t match the heaviness that settles over my chest.
“Everything okay?” Valen asks.
I flip the phone so he can see the photo of Madi holding her newborn. I missed it—another thing Terra has stolen from me. “She had her baby.”
Madi: We named him Levi.
Me: Madi! (Crying emoji) He’s perfect. Are you okay? Why didn’t you say anything?
Madi: Everyone’s happy and healthy. We’re just waiting for Auntie Clover to come home.
Swallowing too many emotions, I type one more message.
Me: I love him already.
I hand the phone back to Grant and pull my plate closer just as Chief slides a second one my way. This plate is piled high with eggs, more bacon, and toast. It’s way too much food for me to eat alone, but all the guys stare at me expectantly.
They may eat like a team of football players, but I’m half their size, and they’ll need to readjust their expectations at some point. For now though, I dig into my plates and blink back tears when they release a collective sigh.
They really are worried about me, and it solidifies how important this little family is to me.
Valen’s mouth presses to my ear. “I’m sorry you couldn’t be there for her. I know you wanted to be.”
I nod and force down more food. Letting people down is a character flaw I’m not sure how to correct. No matter how much I wish I could.
By the time I’ve eaten two pancakes, one egg, and most of the bacon, I do feel better. Steadier. Like maybe I can face whatever comes next.
“All right,” Grant says, closing his laptop. “Let’s talk about Terra.” He frowns. “Or Miriam.”
Their names land like a stone in the middle of a lake, sending ripples through everyone here.
“What do we know?” Sterling asks, opening his tablet.
“It’s Terra we’re looking for. She’s alive,” I say, my voice stronger than I expected. “I know it’s her. She either killed Miriam or did nothing to save her.” My creative brain takes over, filling in plot holes as though this is a story I’m crafting and not the clusterfuck of my actual life.
“If we’ve all believed she was dead, then she must have been in hiding,” I say. “But if she assumed her sister’s identity, she wouldn’t have to hide anymore, would she?”
“There’s no record of Miriam’s death,” Grant says.
“If we go by what the lady at the post office said and take an educated guess on the age of the photo, that was Miriam’s corpse,” Valen says before resting his hand on my thigh under the table. “We can place Miriam’s death somewhere in the last year or so.”
“She’s been planning this for at least a year,” Roman adds. “That stalker wall wasn’t just thrown together. It was meticulous. Organized.”
“If Miriam’s death gave her the prompt she needed to come out of hiding, we can use the photos to narrow down the timeline, I think.
” All the men stare at me. “I don’t remember specifically—the images are kind of warped in my head right now—but I think the photos I saw on the wall are all less than a year old.
I’d have to see them again to be sure, but I’m guessing the photos of me are all within the last six months. ”
“I have photos of the wall,” Roman says cautiously. “If you want to see it again.” He casts a nervous glance around the table. “No one will blame you if you’re not up to it.”
“I—I’ll look.”
They hold a collective breath as I scroll through photos on his screen, confirming my earlier suspicion. They’re all relatively new.
“Between the letters having my address and Savvy’s ex doxing my information, she had everything she needed to find me in Happiness.”
“The dress,” Sterling’s words carry a clinical tone as he studies a photo on his tablet. “The white dress in your package. That’s not a wedding dress like we first thought.”
I shake my head. “It’s an indoctrination dress for the ceremony where you officially become part of Roots of Salvation. Terra called it crossing over, from Styx to Stone.”
“Jesus,” Chase breathes.
“I never had the ceremony,” I continue. “I was supposed to the night I escaped. Terra had been planning it all year. She said I was the chosen one—the one she always wanted and had waited for. She was grooming me to be her successor, but I wasn’t like the other kids.”
My hands are shaking, so I clench them together in my lap.
“I don’t remember much about my parents, but I thought of them often.
I don’t even know if the memories of my mother’s kind eyes or my father’s gentle tone are real, but I never told another soul that.
Even as a child, I knew it was dangerous to recall any memory of them.
But it’s what I clung to during her sessions.
She tried hard to erase them, and I fought hard to hold them close. ”
“Fuck.” Chase crashes into a chair at my side. His grief for my loss makes that one curse word feel like it weighs a metric ton.
“Miriam educated me on the real world behind Terra’s back.
She must have known that whatever Terra was planning for me was bad.
I think she started teaching me from the very beginning because I don’t remember ever not having private lessons with her.
She didn’t want me to end up like her sister.
And Terra needed me to move ROS to the next level—in her vision—under her complete control—but I never understood why it had to be me specifically, and Miriam would never say. ”
“That night, Miriam told us that Terra was escalating my crossover and it wouldn’t end well. That’s why we rushed into our plan and Valen called his aunt. We moved too quickly, and it all fell apart.”
“So,” Grant says. “She’s been planning this for years. Everything we’ve learned so far made me think she was impulsive and emotional. Waiting fourteen years doesn’t fit that profile.”
“Unless something, or someone, was keeping her contained.” Valen’s voice is a deep warning.
“Mom,” Sterling heaves. “You think she found a way to keep her away from you both.”
“The timeline fits,” Grant says, with a crease to his brow.
“With both Aunt Vivi and Miriam dead, there would be no one left to control her,” Valen agrees.
“What did they do?” I ask. “Keep her on house arrest? How do you keep someone hidden for a decade?”
“We’ve been…learning a lot about our mother since her passing,” Grant says carefully.
“I can’t give more details until I unravel it all, but it’s possible my mother’s life had a darker side we never knew about.
She wasn’t a villain,” he’s quick to add.
“But I have reason to believe that she had the means and the motive to lock a devil like Terra away.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Valen shouts.
I flinch and curl in on myself.
I’ve come a long way in a short amount of time, but the violence in his tone has me reverting to the scared shell of a woman I was a few weeks ago.
Jesus, Clover. Get your shit together.
“Please, Valen.” There’s a sadness in Roman’s gaze as he answers. “Trust us a little longer while we figure everything out. Right now, your top priority is Clover. That means finding Terra, if it is Terra, and putting an end to whatever her disturbed goals are.”
The tightness in Valen’s jaw showcases his displeasure, but I can also see the love he has for his cousins, and it’s because of that love that he bites his tongue and allows them their secrets. For now.
“Terra hasn’t just been waiting though.” Valen’s voice is still hard. “What we saw at the compound isn’t desperation, it’s calculated revenge.”
“She wants us following her breadcrumbs.” The words tumble out as the story threads all weave together in my mind.
“She always loved playing games that made her feel powerful. That’s what the stalker wall was.
An invitation. She’s saying I know where you are, I know who you love, come and find me before I get to them. ”
Grant’s smile is sharp. “Now that we know what she wants, we’ll use it against her.”
Silence settles over me as I grasp his meaning. “Use me, you mean.” I glance around the table, waiting for someone to deny it.
“No fucking way,” Chief says through gritted teeth. “We ain’t risking her. Not now, not ever.”
“We’d never put her in danger,” Sterling says carefully. “But if we could create the appearance of her being vulnerable, accessible, it might draw her out.”
“No,” Chief shouts at the same time I say, “A trap.”
Wrecks whines under the table and nuzzles his head deeper into my lap.
“A very careful, controlled trap,” Roman clarifies. “With us and our best team of agents backing you up.”
I search for Valen’s steady gaze, but he’s anything but steady right now.
“No,” he says flatly. “Absolutely not.”
“Thank Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” Chief blows out a breath and sinks back into his chair opposite me.
“Valen—”
“I said no.” Valen’s low rumble cuts Grant off before he can even begin, his grip on my thigh punishing. He might be even more scared than I am, which means he might not be thinking clearly. “I’m not using Clover as bait. End of discussion.”
“It’s not your decision.” My voice is gentle but slices through the tension with the grace of a grenade.
Six sets of eyes descend on me, and for once, I don’t shrink away.
“Clover.” Valen’s voice holds a warning, but it’s time he learned to trust me too.
“Valen,” I reply with the same controlled tone. I tug his hand away and stand up. My legs shake, but I lock my knees. “She’s controlled enough of our lives. Even if you can’t remember it, I do. I can’t go back to that. I won’t.”