Chapter Twenty Two
Chapter Twenty Three
The stars were high in the sky, shining like beacons that begged me to find the nearest spaceship and head as high as I could go. I needed a vacation and one to the stars seemed like it could be far enough away from the bullshit that I might have felt better.
Right now, despite being out more in the last week and my plan going swimmingly, life wasn’t great because nightmares had roused me from Kody’s arms when it was still dark out, and I hadn’t been the only one awake. I’d gone to open my window for some fresh air and a single glance outside had shown me Henley, sitting alone as she looked at the stars. An empty vodka bottle sat next to her – her third this week. It hadn’t even been a choice for me to silently head downstairs and make my way to the patio area right next to the pool.
“Henley.” I called out her name, not wanting to startle her.
She glanced at me, then lifted her new bottle to her lips, frowning as the sharp taste no doubt burned her tongue. “Hey.”
“You been out here long?”
“Nope.” She offered me the bottle as I took the chair next to her, and I took it even if I pretended to be a responsible adult.
“You’re too young to drink.”
She snorted dryly and lay on her back again. “You gonna tell my parents? Oh, wait.”
“Fucking hell.” I collapsed onto the daybed next to her, mimicking her star watching pose. “The dead parent jokes are a rite of passage for the children left behind, but I feel shocked to hear so soon from you. Are you unhappy in your heart, mami? I can talk about things if you want to speak.”
“If I don’t pretend to be amused, I’ll just keep crying.” She breathed. “And I’m not fucking happy. Not even remotely. But I’m very good at pretending. Jokes seem like a part of that, so…”
The stars were bright in the sky, each one glistening like a promise of something bigger and better than me and the life I knew. It was hard to feel important when looking at them, and perhaps that should have scared me, but it did the opposite. I was on a floating rock in the stars; there were bigger things than me in the universe, even if I sometimes felt like the most important person alive.
“What are you pretending right now?” I asked, trying to do my job as her friend and find a way to ensure, eventually, that she was okay and not completely ruined by her unacceptable experiences.
She didn’t hesitate to say, “That I don’t feel like finding something heavy and jumping to the bottom of your pool.”
“What is stopping you?”
“Harrison and Widow.” She admitted. “Harrison needs someone to love him and protect him. And Widow doesn’t deserve to lose me too – I think he loves me, and I think he would miss me.” She knew he loved her; she had seen the evidence more than once. But I understood her need to pretend.
Sometimes it was easier to act than accept reality for what it was.
“Talk to me, lucky H. Tell me whatever is going on in your brain and heart, and we can work it all out. We can make you happy again one day; as happy as you can be considering everything.”
I didn’t even know what happened to her family after their deaths. Raya and Beau had dealt with it all, and I had forgotten to ask. I just hoped they had done something that gave Henley as much closure as she could get for a kid nearly sixteen and almost entirely alone.
“Do you think I’ll ever forget?” She blurted out instead of answering my question.
I sat up, trying to look at her eyes and finding them brimming with tears. “Which part?” I asked.
“The bit where… how…” She sat up too and swigged her drink again. “Nothing. It’s just me trying to trauma dump like a loser.”
There was a look in her eyes that told me what she wanted to say, but it was not my place to push. It was not anyone’s place to make her do anything, ever again, so I tried a different tactic to asking her questions about herself.
“Do you know the story of what happened to my mama and I when I was little? Or what happened to me whilst I was gone? If I trauma dump first, perhaps it will help you.” It was an offer I didn’t usually give, but it seemed only right considering what she had gone through.
If she needed a boost into sharing her nightmares, then perhaps hearing mine could offer some comfort with the fact that she was not alone, even if it felt like she was.
“If you want to. I would like to hear it, but you don’t have to share if you aren’t comfortable.” She muttered, once more the bottle reaching her lips as though she could barely take any time away from it.
I wasted no time and filled her in on the basics as quick as I could, not wanting to linger on my own nightmares. I started with my recent experiences, and the horrible way I had been feeling and just what I had been left with during my capture. Once that had made my eyes burn with tears too, I moved into the past, offering her the shorter version of the night my mama died.
“Those men scarred me. With knives and cigarettes.” I twisted in the chair, showing her my back and the handful of scars that littered it. “It is not as bad as you experienced. They mostly enjoyed other things that left no scars other than mental.”
She froze, the bottle loose in her hand. “Like what?”
I weighed my words up carefully, trying to toe the line between making her feel supported and not alone, and not triggering her into a further meltdown that she was already heading towards.
“Like the kind of things I think that piece of shit did to you. The kind of thing nobody in this universe deserves to happen to them.”
Tears slipped out of her eyes, running down her cheeks. “How do you know what happened to me?”
“Because I can see it in your eyes, mami. I know that look all too well because it’s what I saw in my own eyes for years. And I also know what kind of man he is, and it was the first thing I thought he would do to you when I heard you were taken.”
“Did they… did those men…” She swallowed another few mouthfuls, hands shaking enough I could barely make out the chipped rainbow nails she’d been neglecting for weeks. “Did they touch you? Or worse?”
“Touch me. I was too little for much else. But I have no doubt if I hadn’t been just a scrawny little girl, they would have done worse than use their hands.” I reached for her vodka bottle, taking a glug before returning it.
Speaking of my trauma made my skin crawl. It made me feel dirty and wrong and more damaged than I would have ever liked to admit. But I wasn’t damaged. I wasn’t dirty. I was just me and no other fucker in this world would ever make me hate myself, or feel like being inside my own skin was wrong.
Henley deserved to feel the same.
She nodded slowly. “He made me… he um…”
Without a word I waited, patient and calm. I wouldn’t ever force her to say a word, but I wanted her to understand she could express her thoughts and feelings no matter how bad they were. I would offer her a safe space to speak freely without judgement or fear and whatever else she needed.
“He didn’t fuck me properly before I managed to hurt him so he couldn’t do it.” She whispered. “But he used his hands and stuff. He said… he was…” She ran a hand over her eyes, wiping away her tears. “He wanted me to beg him for it – that was his goal. He said he was going to make me hurt so bad until I begged him to fuck me, and he could finally prove that I was just like every other whore in the world. Or whatever misogynistic bullshit his pea brain thought of.”
It was bad. But I had the slightest relief that at least she had got out before Rocky had got everything he wanted from her, and that she had managed to eventually defend herself enough that he would never get to do the extra evil things he wanted. Henley shouldn’t have had anyone lay hands on her that way, but I was trying to find the slightest of silver lining for her even if it was foolish.
“You never would have begged him.” I promised.
She pouted. “How do you know?”
“Because I know you, lucky H. You’re strong and you’re stubborn. You would have died before you ever gave him the satisfaction of hearing you beg.” I lowered my voice when I heard the patio doors open again. “You know what he did to those you loved, and you felt each bit of pain he gave you. I know you would have died before giving him what he wanted because you are a fighter, and fighters never quit.”
She might not have thought it now, but it was true. Henley was strong – she was a fighter. She had run from safety to take on gunmen, just to save Darius and attempt to save her brother. I had seen the CCTV tapes of that day and saw how hard she fought to escape Rocky – how much she had given to save her loved ones, even if it never worked out. She had been braver than many grown adults would have been, and she had to be proud of that – she had to know that she did her best and that was all that mattered. Her best was all she ever had to give.
She blew out a breath, her voice quiet as she said, “It doesn’t matter how many times I shower. I can still feel him.”
“It goes away.” I promised. “One day the shower will work – it will make you feel clean again. But even if it doesn’t, you aren’t dirty. There is nothing wrong with you, mami. You are beautiful, strong, and I promise there is nothing wrong with you.”
The devastation in her eyes only made me want to wrap her up in bubble wrap and never let her out of my sight. But that wasn’t reasonable. She couldn’t shield herself away from the world for the rest of her life. She had to learn that things would one day be better – justice would eventually be served, and she would find a way to heal and turn to some semblance of normal.
“Hey; I thought you might want some of this.” Delilah came to a stop by our chair, a pizza box in her hands. “This is usually where I come when I can’t sleep and seeing as pizza and booze makes me feel better, I figured I’d offer you the pizza to sop up that hangover you’ll have tomorrow.”
I hadn’t known she came outside to drink and think either, but it seemed to be a popular place and as Delilah put the box on the small table, and I grabbed a slice, I wondered if perhaps I should be finding ways to make the garden even nicer for those who needed to sit in it and think about the horrors they never should have experienced.
Surely it was better to breakdown in a field full of flowers than a concrete place?
“Come sit.” Henley offered Delilah the bottle as she took a slice of pizza. “How are you?”
Delilah grabbed the bottle as she took a seat on the spare lounger.
“I’m no longer reliving what it’s like to be on heroin and locked in a basement. Instead, I woke up screaming as I watched Tanner protect me from being hurt and get shot.” She said bluntly. “Totally ruined my vibes. I was all comfy before that, even if Tanner’s heart rate machines beeping all the time do my head in.”
One of the other bright sparks of our recent issues was that Tanner might wake up. The machines that had been keeping him breathing and okay, had been damaged and turned off during the attack, but to my utter shock Tanner hadn’t died. He’d kept breathing – kept fighting – and Raya’s doctors that had taken over helping had said he would wake up on his own someday soon. It might have been weeks still, but at least it was better than the alternative.
At least Widow’s bit of hope wasn’t for nothing, and he didn’t lose another person he loved in such a horrid way.
My zoning out for a moment as I ate was cut short when I heard Delilah snickering a laugh and puckering her lips with a handful of exaggerated kisses.
“Listen, I’m not into women, even if I do like blondes.” She said to Henley, continuing whatever the pair had been talking about. “I also know you’re straight as fuck, too. But if you want me to help you out for a second, then this is a limited time offer – one kiss. Quick. No tongue. Just to make it so the last kiss you had is a great one. Because, and I’m not egotistical, I happen to know I am a great kisser.”
Henley burst out laughing as she put her bottle down in favor of another slice of pizza. “You trying to hit on me, Lilah? Have you got a secret crush or something because I don’t know if you deserve me – you ate the last croissant at breakfast.”
“If I wanted to make you my girl, I would,” Delilah winked. “But right now, I’m offering as a friend.” She snatched a bite of pizza, chewing before she added. “Plus, that croissant was so good. I want Kody to make more again – he’s disgustingly talented with food.”
I couldn’t agree more and as we descended into a food conversation for a while it did nothing but make me hungry and remind me I ought to wife up Kody before he found a woman that didn’t get him almost killed every day so they could spend the rest of their lives being happy little white picket fence people, enjoying their delicious food.
Eventually Henley sighed and sat up properly, finished with her food and – rather excellently – not interested in her drink anymore.
“I have a question that’s probably nosy, but I don’t care. I wanna ask.” She looked at Delilah as she spoke, so I could sit back and happily munch away and listen to their gossiping.
“Sure.” Delilah drawled.
“Do you like Widow?” Henley blurted out.
Delilah didn’t bat an eye at the question. “Of course.”
“I don’t mean as a friend.”
“Are you asking if I would fuck him?”
“Pretty much.”
Delilah didn’t answer. She just sipped the drink, over and over and over. Then she sighed.
“I made out with Kellan last night. We were playing a game, and it turned into dares. That boy has the tongue of a God.”
“What the fuck?” Henley groaned. “That’s two of Widow’s guys you’ve got with now – he’s gonna put a bullet in your head.”
“He was there too. He liked it; trust me.” Delilah winked and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Partly out of shock, mostly because I felt like I was hearing someone talk about my brother’s sex life or something, and it was thoroughly not suitable for my ears.
Henley threw herself back on the daybed, bringing a cushion over her face, agreeing with my sentiment.
“Now I want a bullet in my head.” She mumbled before she chucked the cushion back and sat up, scowling.
Delilah tilted the bottle back to her, her jaw ticking as she fought a smile.
“Feel free to tell me how much you want to kill me dead.” She sipped again. “In return I’ll tell you just how big your cousins dick-” she was cut off to a pillow to the head before she said between laughs, “If you don’t stop coming out here each night to cry and feel sorry for yourself then I’ll give you a graphic tale of what Widow and I did last night. And trust me, you’ll wish you were dead by the time I finish it. It’s kinky as fuck, and I have no boundaries when it comes to sharing.”
Their playful bickering continued long into the night, me joining in, too. And though it was probably silly of me to take over drinking Henley’s bottle of alcohol, I didn’t feel bad about it. I just enjoyed the night of drinks, food and friends, pretending that things were normal and this was my life now.
I wasn’t a captive. I wasn’t a gangster. I was just a girl having fun.
Eventually Henley called it a night, and slinked off to bed, Delilah and I following a moment later. Despite not wanting to gossip about my friends, I was far too curious not to ask a single question as the pair of us walked through the kitchen together, heading upstairs.
I glanced sideways. “So you and Kellan? And Widow?”
“It was a lie,” Delilah instantly laughed. “I figured Henley needed something to pull her out of her funk and I know she likes to pretend she hates Widow and his friends, so I figured I’d give her something she would be grossed out to hear.”
My brows rose and my heart warmed. “So you didn’t do sex things with anyone?”
“Not yet,” she giggled.
“Yet?” I laughed along with her.
She shrugged. “I’m not going to pretend not to find them hot, but trust me, there is nothing there but friendship. I would never steal Tanner’s boyfriend from him. At least not until he’s awake and can fight for him. Plus, I like all of them equally, even Darius – there’s no way I could pick one to date. So until they decide to fight to the death for my honor or something, I’m not interested in anything other than being friends.”
“Right.” I said slowly, trying not to smile at the idea of how weirdly cute I thought she would look with Darius, especially on account of how she talked a lot and he didn’t speak often. It seemed like an adorable opposites attract thing.
“Don’t tell Henley though.” She smirked, and I promised not to share.
“Listen, I meant to talk to you before. But now is better than anything else.” I pointed to the tattoo on her arm as I promised not to share her secrets. “I’m glad you’re with us. I’m happy you are part of my family and I know I haven’t exactly been… well, been around or been useful. But I want to make sure you know that I am here for you, for anything you need. I always will be.”
“I’m happy to be here, too.” She squeezed my arm. “I’m also here for you, Sapphire. You can talk to me if you need to. Even if I am a dumb kid who doesn’t know anything other than how to hold a tune. And like, I might not have been taken for as long as you were, but I know how it feels to be helpless and a prisoner. I know how it makes your head feel when the world around you can’t be trusted and you have no idea how you’re even breathing.” She swallowed hard, blurting out her confession as fast as she could. “Even before I was kept in that place, dad used to beat the fuck out of me. For anything – for eating, for breathing, for just existing. So trust me, I know how it feels to be powerless and I know it fucking sucks. But I also know that eventually it ends, and eventually you get out of it. And I know you’re feeling funky right now, but you got out – you’re home again. And things will always find a way to work out.”
It was oddly strange how the tables had turned on us. When we’d first met, Delilah had been terrified and needed saving – she had required comforting words and promises from me to make her feel a little better until she could sort herself out and return to the bubbly girl she had once been. Now she was doing the same for me.
She was offering me comfort and trying to help me feel like myself again…
“Lilah.”
She glanced at me. “Yeah?”
“You’re not powerless anymore. You’re a Montana and we are the ones with the power – we’re the ones that other people should be scared of. And I also appreciate everything. The things you say, or do, or whatever. You are a brilliant girl, and I am honored to claim you as family now.”
I had offered her my surname for a reason. Not just out of the desire to claim more family or give her the fresh start she so desperately craved.
She scoffed a laugh, eyes burning bright. “Damn fucking right – you ought to remember that too. I know I will when I meet my dad again and show him how it feels to be the victim for a change. You’re gonna do the same to the twisted fuck who had you — we are both going to win. I can foresee it right now. So you just need to remember who you are and exactly what you can do.”
She was right.
It was time I remembered who I was.
What I was capable of.
It was time I won the game I’d long been unwillingly playing.