32. Chapter Thirty-Two Whispers of Freedom
Chapter Thirty-Two: Whispers of Freedom
Tess
I swung the front door open with a creak, and my roommate Addie threw herself at me, her arms wrapping around me with a desperate intensity. Her body trembled against mine, her sobs muffled against my shoulder. When we’d said our goodbyes at the front gate of the haunted house, we never expected to see each other again.
We held each other so tight all the air left my lungs, my hands clenched into fists as if I could hold onto this moment forever. Her hair smelled faintly of that mango shampoo she used, joining with the salty tang of our tears. The unspoken relief enveloped the space, along with the lingering smells of damp earth and red wine.
Our tears flowed freely, soaking into each other’s clothes, the world around us blurring into insignificance. I could feel the rapid beat of her heart mirroring my own, a frantic cadence that slowly calmed as we clung to one another.
Finally, I pulled away, my eyes swollen and my throat tight. I shut the door behind me with a heavy thud, sealing away the horrors of the night. The living room felt almost alien in its normalcy—the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, the faint ticking of the wall clock.
“I really, really need to sit down.” I could still hear Addie’s soft sobs behind me, a reminder of the ordeal we had both survived, but for now, the couch’s embrace and the quiet of our shared space were all I needed.
She sniffled. “I can’t believe you’re back. What happened?”
I ambled to the couch, each step heavy with exhaustion. The cushions sank under my weight as I collapsed onto them, the familiar fabric a welcome comfort.
“So much happened. I need a shower and a week of sleep,” I muttered, feeling the heaviness of exhaustion settle over me like a hex. The room was washed in the soft glow from a table lamp, and gentle shadows played on the walls, creating a cocoon of calm after the chaos.
Standing over me, Addie reached down to the coffee table and muted the TV before picking up her glass of wine, the dark liquid sloshing in the glass as she took a hearty swig. “First, you need to tell me what the fuck happened. Do you want a glass? Is Ivan…?”
“Sure.” I managed a tired grin. “Ivan is gone. Ding dong, the warlock is dead.”
Her eyebrows rose, and she held up a finger, retrieving a wine glass from the kitchen. The sound of her padding across the room and back was breaking the quiet. “How?” Her voice tinged with both disbelief and curiosity as she poured me some wine. The rich aroma filled the air, along with the lingering odor of… me. I really needed a shower.
She peered at me with shock and awe, like I was a ghost. But after what I’d been through, I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. I accepted the glass, the cool stem a comfort in my hand, and she sat next to me.
“It’s a long story.” I took a sip, the wine’s warmth spreading through me, easing some of the tension. The living room felt surreal, each familiar detail now infused with a new sense of significance. The soft ticking of the wall clock, the muted hum of the refrigerator, and the faint rustle of Addie’s movements. All reminders that I was safe now. The nightmare was over. “Remember Reaper?”
Leaning forward, she nodded, eyebrows high in disbelief.
“He helped me, and then he got us out.” I raised my glass to my lips and tipped my head back, gulping the rest of it down.
“Reaper?”
I nodded and poured myself more wine, the bottle clinking softly against the glass. I held it up, swirling the deep red liquid and watching the patterns emerge, the light catching the wine’s surface and splashing rippling figures on the walls.
“He helped you?”
“Yup.” The steady ticking of the clock on the wall emerged from the silence, each tick a reminder of time’s passage.
“And you both won?” It felt as if the dark gauze of trauma was unwinding, revealing layer upon layer of senses to rediscover in this quiet environment.
“No. He teleported us out or something.” The subtle aroma of the wine and the faint lavender lingering in the air anchored me in the present. The softness of the couch beneath me, the gentle rustle of Addie’s movements, and the glow of the lamp created a cocoon of tranquility. After all that violence, my awareness became heightened, attuned to the smallest details. Sitting here in the softness and peace, I couldn’t quite believe what my senses were telling me.
“So who won?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. No one, I guess.” Every sound, every sensation was vivid and sharp—the clink of the wine glass as I set it down, the warmth spreading through me with each sip, the rhythmic ticking of the clock, my own steady heartbeat cultivating a loop of calm.
“What do you mean, no one?”
The room, once so familiar, now felt like a sanctuary, a place where I could begin to process the horror that had just unfolded. “We blew the place up and got out. No winner this year.”
“They are going to be pissed.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Are you hungry?”
I shrugged. “I should be, but no.”
She got up and snatched some bags of snacks, ripped open some pretzels on the way back and left them between us. “Won’t they come looking for you?” she asked as she crunched on them.
I stuck my hand in the back and snatched a couple up, throwing them in my mouth. I was surprised at the near euphoria of the salty crunch. “Nah. They don’t keep details except for the winner.”
“So what now? Ivan’s gone?”
“Yeah, I don’t know. Sleep for a week, I guess.”
She pressed the bag closer, urging me to have some more. “You deserve it, babe.”
She was always a great friend to me. I never felt like I deserved her, but she kept me alive all this time. No one else cared about me but Addie. We sat in silence, crunching on pretzels and drinking wine, and I let half-thoughts whizz by in my mind until it occurred to me that I had appointments with clients to honor. I couldn’t sleep for a week; I had rent to pay. “Fuck,” I whispered, sinking further into the couch.
She froze mid-bite, the pretzel hovering inches from her mouth, eyebrows arching in concern. “What?”
I set the glass down on the coffee table with a dull thud, my hand trembling. Leaning back, I let my head fall against the couch, my gaze fixed on the ceiling as the weight of reality pressed down on me. “I’ll have to take over the shop,” I murmured, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.
“No,” Addie’s voice was sharp, urgent. “You don’t ever have to go back there.”
I turned to her, managing a hollow smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “But I have Stacy’s piece to finish. And Brandon’s. And Lisa’s.” The names of my clients felt like anchors, tethering me to a life I thought I’d left behind.
“So call and cancel,” Addie insisted, leaning forward, her eyes pleading.
I reached for my glass again, draining the last of its contents in one swift motion. The alcohol burned so good, but it was no match for the memories seared in my mind. “I can’t.” My voice was rough with trauma and exhaustion. “We have rent to pay, food to buy.” My head was too packed with thoughts, memories, images and feelings. I had to get somewhere quiet to let them all play through so I could sleep. I really needed to sleep. But first… “I really need a shower.”
As I moved to stand, Addie’s hand shot out, gripping my arm with unexpected strength. “I’ll cover it.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “You deserve to rest.”
For a moment, I allowed myself to consider it.
To imagine walking away from it all.
But reality crashed back in, relentless as ever .
She’d go broke, and we’d both be screwed. I couldn’t do that to her.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll go in and take care of my clients. Maybe I’ll leave myself a couple weeks of vacation in the book, but it’s not like I can just stop working. If I can get ownership of the shop somehow, that would be okay.”
Addie’s eyes narrowed. “Would it? Or would you rather never go back?”
I hesitated, the truth lodging in my throat. The tattoo industry was everything to me. I loved the art. I loved the customers. It was only Ivan I couldn’t stand at Empire Decay Ink. “As long as Ivan never comes back, I’m okay with the place. I don’t know how to work for anyone else.” I stood, my body protesting every movement as I shuffled past her.
“Babe,” Addie’s voice followed me. “If you can work for Ivan, you can work for anyone .”
I stopped at the entrance to the hallway, turning back to face her. The words came out quiet and faint, “I don’t think I can bear to follow anyone ever again.”
Something flared in Addie’s eyes—determination, maybe even a hint of pity. “Understandable. I might know someone who can help with the paperwork.”
“Huh?” My exhausted brain struggled to keep up.
“Let me ask around about Legal Mages.” There was an edge of urgency in her tone as she spoke. This was Addie on a mission; I knew the signs. “We’ll see what we can get done quick and easy.”
It would have been exciting—the idea of getting a mage to take care of the legal paperwork and bypass all the questions I couldn’t answer—but exhaustion won out. The promise of a shower and my safe, warm bed beckoned. As I turned away, a chill ran down my spine. The feeling of safety, of home… it was something I never thought I’d experience again.
Not even after being homeless on the streets.
But as I made my way down the hall, Ivan’s face flashed in my mind. The Devil’s Delirium building loomed in my thoughts, a specter I couldn’t shake. I was alive, against all odds.
The questions swirled in my mind as I stepped into the bathroom, haunting me even as the warm water washed over my battered body. I was home. But I couldn’t shake the odd feeling inside. I didn’t know what it meant. Maybe it was just an echo of Ivan’s taunting deep in my head.
Haha! Silly girl. You’ll never get away from me.
Maybe time would dim that voice. Or perhaps this was just the calm before another storm.
I’d never lived in clear skies before.