Chapter 37
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
SHILOH
My phone ringing drags me out of sleep, but it’s Donovan’s arms tightening around me that really pulls me into reality. We haven’t been apart at night unless he has an away game, and it’s almost dangerous how addicting being wrapped up in him feels.
I’m starting to think I can actually do this… that I can be this person. Especially when Donovan seems willing to bleed to make sure it happens.
I reluctantly answer when the phone keeps ringing, my mumbled, “Hello,” sounding about as annoyed as I feel.
“Iggy is getting out of the hospital soon.” Pierre’s voice rings out through the speaker, and I can hear the same relief in his tone that pours through my body.
“Yeah?” I sit upright, and Donovan slides down lazily to wrap his arms around my waist and snuggle against my stomach.
“Yeah, and I got clearance for the staff to visit him. He’s going to be leaving with his aunt, and I’m not sure if she’s going to bring him by the center, so I thought you might want a chance to say goodbye.”
Leaving? I guess it makes sense, especially since there’s no way for anyone to know that Iggy’s never going to be in danger like he was ever again. There’s no chance his dad is going to show back up and hurt him… there’s just his future and possibilities that I never had.
“I can go see him?” I ask, surprised at how small my voice sounds. My chest constricts when Donovan presses a soft kiss against my butterfly tattoo and the mottled reminder beneath of exactly why seeing Iggy is going to be so hard, but…
I think I need to.
And it’s strange… for some reason, his mouth against my skin doesn’t make me ache the way it usually would, the way just looking at it usually does.
It feels good. Maybe it’s because he knows what the scars are—because he understands and he still wants to touch me.
Or maybe it’s just because it’s Donovan.
“Shiloh?” I blink, my brain catching on to the fact that Pierre has been talking to me this entire time and I’ve been too caught in the feel of soft lips against my stomach to actually pay attention.
“Yeah, sorry. Haven’t had coffee yet,” I offer as a way of excuse. My fingers drift down into Donovan’s hair and thread through the strands gently as I focus.
“I told the nurses that a few of the teachers were going to come by and visit. His aunt seemed appreciative of it. I know some part of her feels guilty that this is happening, that she didn’t try to help sooner.”
She should have tried to help sooner, but I know better than anyone that it isn’t like the system really goes to bat for abused kids.
Most of my foster homes after my mom died and my dad went to jail were full of heavy hands and assholes who looked at me as nothing more than a paycheck.
I even had a foster sibling call once to let the local station know we were being deprived of meals…
and they didn’t do a damn thing except send someone out to the house to check after letting our foster parents know they were coming.
Useless.
And I could remember the threats that if my dad ever got out of jail, they’d give me back to him. I’d like to think that at least that was a lie, simply told to make sure I stayed in line… but…
But I can still remember the first person I killed—not my dad like I wanted… but my foster dad. His hands hurt when they bit into my arm, and when he raised his fist to hit me for what felt like the hundredth time, I pushed him.
Hard enough that he fell down a set of stairs and cracked his head open on the ground.
Hard enough that even at thirteen years old, I knew from the odd angle he’d landed that he was dead.
I’d thought then about going down and running my fingers through the blood… I could see him in almost perfect overlay with my mom… but his blood wasn’t on the wall.
In the end, I’d just picked up the phone and called the local police department and told them that he’d fallen down the stairs.
The alcohol and drugs in his system made the lie easy…
I half wonder if the reason I was so good at getting away with murder is because my first one was so easy to talk my way out of… overconfidence is a heady thing.
Pierre lets out another sigh, proof that I’m once more living in a moment that has nothing to do with what he’s saying.
It’s Donovan’s arms around my waist that bring me back to the present, though…
his mouth still warm against my waist that finally makes me blow out a breath and nod before I realize Pierre can’t see me.
“I need to get ready, then I’ll stop by and see him.
I think I’d really like that.” I’m surprised how small my voice sounds, how unsure…
but that person that I’ve been over the last few days, unsteady on my feet and not positive of my place in the world is still trying to expand and find a home in my chest.
I don’t know who I am anymore, but I know I need to find a way to make sure the ghost of Iggy’s dad doesn’t haunt him for the rest of his life.
He needs to know he’s free, so he can grow up to be something… pure. Something good.
Something different than who I’ve been.
“Let me know if you need anything in the meantime, Shiloh, okay? I know this has been hard on you.” Pierre’s voice is sweet, and I sigh.
“I’ll be okay. Thanks for letting me know I can visit.”
“Of course.”
We hang up and I toss my phone onto the sheet beside me then turn my attention to Donovan, who hasn’t moved from his nuzzled in spot at my stomach.
“You have to head out soon, don’t you?” I already know the answer, so I’m not sure why I’m asking the question like I’m going to get something different.
Still, it would be nice if Donovan could come with me…
it would be nice if he could meet Iggy, so he could at least understand the crime scene he walked in on.
He’s seen him a few times, but seeing and knowing are two different things.
I might feel bad about some of the things I’ve done, but helping Iggy is never going to be one of them.
“Yeah, I should have been in the shower a few minutes ago.” Donovan’s voice is soft and sweet, and I’m tempted to lie back down and drag him beneath the sheets with me.
“Then why aren’t you?”
He nips at the tender flesh of my stomach one more time before sitting up. “Thought you needed me here.”
I did.
I can’t begin to tell him how much I did. Navigating a world where I’m trying to let myself feel the emotions swirling through my chest is so… hard.
I know I wouldn’t be able to do it alone.
“I did, thank you. Guess you can’t get out of whatever you have to do, can you?” The question is wistful, and his lips pinch together.
“If I could, I would.”
I know he’s telling the truth… which is the only reason I swallow down the soft plea for him to figure it out anyway. I’ve never faced the kid of someone I killed before.
I have no idea if he’ll be happy knowing his dad is dead… but…
“Tell Iggy I said hey, though, yeah?” And before I can say anything else, Donovan sits up on the bed and presses a soft kiss to my forehead, drifting his lips down to the tip of my nose before covering my mouth in a gentle press that’s more warmth than heat. “You’re going to do great, Shiloh.”
I’m not sure how he knows that I’m worried about fucking this all up, but I nod once before gently pushing on his shoulder.
“Go take a shower and I’ll make coffee before we both leave.”
The sweet smile that stretches across his face feels like sunshine on my skin.
The fact that he’s seemingly still so enamored with the simplest of domestic things is fascinating…
and the way he kisses me one more time before hopping out of the bed gives me the push I need to stand up and follow him.
I can do this, because Donovan thinks I can.
Iggy looks up at me with his big, bright eyes, and I feel something in my chest break open as he reaches his tiny hand out and takes mine.
“Sounds like you’re going to be able to get out of here soon, huh?” I’m surprised at the slight wobble in my voice, but he just smiles.
“I get to go stay with my aunt K.” He sounds so happy about it. I know his mom died when he was little, and his aunt comes from her side.
“You get to move somewhere warmer, huh?” I reach over and gently ruffle his hair, my fingers careful where they touch him. I still feel like I could break him open if I’m not careful…
“Yeah.” At that, his little cupid-bow smile turns into a pout. “I asked her to stay here.”
“Why?” The only reason I’m still here is because of Donovan, or I would definitely have moved somewhere warmer by now.
“I like your class.” He scrunches up his nose, and I can tell that’s not all.
“Iggy?”
“I’m afraid Daddy will come back. He’ll get mad if I leave… he might… he might…” His big eyes go shiny with tears, and I shake my head.
“Listen to me, that’s not going to happen.”
Iggy lets out a little hiccup, shaking his head. “You don’t know that. He always came back before. I never got to leave with Auntie K. I…”
The heart monitor he’s connected to is going wild, and I know if I don’t do something to calm him down the nurses are probably going to come in to kick me out soon, so I lean forward, lowering my voice.
“I promise, he’s not coming back.”
Through his tears, he fixes his little gaze on me. “How do you know?”
Because I killed him. Because he’s rotting somewhere in the water as food for the fish?
“Do you trust me, Iggy?” I don’t realize how big those words are until I say them, and I don’t realize how much his answer means until he whispers it.
“Yes.”
Yes. Just like that… without question. Without hesitation. He trusts me.
Iggy isn’t going to grow up to be me—he isn’t going to grow up to be a monster… because I saved him from that. And even if Donovan will never understand it, it’s one kill I’m never going to regret.
“Then trust me now. I promise he’s never going to hurt you again.” I want to tell him I made sure of it, but instead I squeeze his hand and stand up. “If your aunt will bring you by Helping Hearts one more time before you go… I’ll make you a supply basket.”
Iggy still has tears on his cheeks when he nods. “Okay.” And then in a softer, hushed voice, he whispers. “You promise?”
I blow out a breath and nod. “Yeah, Iggy. I made sure of it.”
The confession makes my pulse race… but on the bed, Iggy lies back as his heartbeat slows. When he wipes his tears with one bandaged hand and smiles at me, I realize that maybe the person Donovan sees when he looks at me is real…
Because Iggy is looking at me like he can see him too.