Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Landon
As soon as we get settled at my apartment, I log into my laptop and let Allora start working on all the things she has to do.
Some of it is essential—like ordering a replacement driver’s license—but other things are just distractions.
And that’s okay. It’s important for her to do whatever she needs to do to get through this.
Including ignoring everything for a while.
Not forever.
That will come back to bite her if she doesn’t deal with everything, but these first few days have to be more about regaining her sanity than anything else.
By late in the afternoon, she’s done about all she can do and she closes the laptop with a sigh.
I told her to have her new cards and license shipped to Shadow Security headquarters as a precaution so now all we can do is wait.
I’ll have to take her to the car dealership to get her new key fob, but we can do that in a few days.
“Are you hungry?” I ask.
She smiles. “Yes. Always.”
“How about we order in tonight and then I’ll have some groceries delivered. Full disclosure—I don’t cook a lot.”
“That’s fine. I can cook. I don’t mind.”
“I don’t expect you to cook for me.”
“Well, we have to eat and ordering in every day gets expensive.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
She sinks down on the couch next to me and leans back, closing her eyes. “I’m tired.”
“Do you want to take a nap?”
“No… I meant I’m mentally tired. Exhausted, really.”
“The last few days have been a lot,” I say. “Cut yourself some slack.”
“When is it going to hit me?” she whispers.
“I don’t think there’s any way to know. We’re all different.”
“When did it hit you?”
I hesitate.
I don’t talk about the time I was captured very often.
Almost never. The military made me meet with a therapist but that wasn’t helpful because I knew what I had to say for them to sign off on me.
For the most part, I worked it out myself.
Mostly with tequila and my fists. Those probably aren’t good options for her, though.
“I didn’t do things the right way,” I admit.
“I bullshit my way through mandatory therapy and then did all the usual crap people do when they’re trying to pretend they’re not hurt.
Drank too much. Got in bar fights. Fucked around.
Thankfully, I had my sister and Rage to knock some sense into me.
Don’t do what I did and pretend you’re fine.
Because you’re not. No matter how strong you are, what happened to you was horrible. ”
“It was,” she says slowly. “But there’s a part of me that’s like, what the fuck? If I let this destroy me, they win again. And that’s bullshit.”
“I didn’t say you should let it destroy you. Just don’t pretend you’re fine. Talk to a therapist. More than once. Allow yourself to grieve the person you were before while simultaneously working on who you’re going to be going forward.”
“Do I have to be…someone different?” Her blue eyes are shrouded when they meet mine.
“You already are, even if you don’t know it yet. That kind of trauma changes you. Sometimes, it defeats you. Makes you anxious and fearful. Other times, it makes you stronger.”
“It definitely isn’t going to defeat me. At least, I hope not.”
“It won’t.” I shake my head. “There is no doubt in my mind you’re going to persevere.”
“Did what happened to you make you stronger?” she asks after a moment. “Because I’m pretty sure you were already pretty strong, both inside and out.”
“I don’t know about stronger, but it made me tougher, both physically and mentally. Determined to never be in a position like that again, even though that’s not entirely realistic.”
“Do you really think they want to kill me?”
Christ. How do I answer that without scaring her?
“Be honest,” she says when I hesitate a bit too long.
“I think they’ll want to silence anyone who’s seen their faces.”
“What about you? You saw his face.”
“I did but I’m also going to be a lot tougher to kill than you are.”
“Ugh.” She makes a disgusted face. “That’s kind of depressing. I need to learn how to fight.”
I nod. “That’s always a good plan, even if this hadn’t happened. Learning how to defend yourself is important.”
“Could you teach me?”
“Honestly, that’s not my forte, but it is Rage’s.”
“That’s right.” She gives me a small smile. “Rage the Cage.”
I laugh. “Haven’t heard that name in a while, but yeah. He’s one of the most skilled fighters I’ve ever seen. And I’m sure he’d be honored to teach you.”
“I need to heal first,” she admits. “My ribs are still really sore.”
“You definitely need to heal first. Give yourself time.”
“I have a therapist that I talked to when my mom died. I should probably give her a call.”
“You don’t have to do all the things on your first day.”
Her brows knit together for a moment, almost like that never occurred to her. Then she smiles. “I guess you’re right. It just seems like the list is endless. And I feel completely isolated without my phone. But I ordered a new one and it’s coming. That’s okay, right?”
“Of course.”
“I have to reach out to some of my friends. My friend Lacy is in L.A. working and we were supposed to have lunch today. Ugh.” She drops her forearm over her eyes. “Now I have to explain why I blew her off.”
“You don’t,” I say gently. “You can tell her you had an emergency. You don’t have to tell anyone anything that makes you uncomfortable.”
“I just don’t want to be a victim.”
“But you were a victim. And this is kind of what I’m talking about. You’re an adult and you can make your own decisions about what to say and who to tell, but in my opinion, hiding it would be a mistake.”
“I would tell Lacy anyway. But I don’t have a phone to call anyone. And I don’t remember phone numbers. Hell, I don’t even know how to set up a new phone. They always do it for me at the store when I buy a new one.”
“Once the phone arrives, we can head out to headquarters and our cyber expert will set it up for you. Luna’s awesome. You’ll like her.”
“Everyone has been so kind. Do you treat all your clients like this?”
I shake my head. “Technically, I’ve never brought a client to my home before. But I’ve also never rescued anyone from a trafficking ring. Some things are just…impactful. I don’t know how else to describe it.”
“You know why I don’t want to tell people?” she asks after a thoughtful silence. “I don’t want pity. That look people give you, like, oh my gosh, that’s horrible—and I don’t know what to say so I’m just going to sit there like an idiot.”
“You’re not responsible for other people’s reactions.”
“No but I have to deal with them.”
“To a degree, I suppose you do. I’d like to think your closest friends wouldn’t do that, though.”
“No, probably not. I guess I’ll have to see how I feel.”
“That’s probably the best idea.” I reach for my phone. “I’m going to order us some dinner and then you’re welcome to watch TV or use my computer or get some rest.”
“I think I’ll probably crash early tonight. I didn’t sleep well last night, they kept waking me up.”
“Whatever you need. Please make yourself at home. I’ll be out here watching the ball game until I fall asleep.”
“Thank you. I mean it.”
Lifting her gaze, our eyes lock and I can’t describe that jolt of electricity that hits me. It’s so intense, I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning.
Jesus, I’d have to be some kind of animal to think about her like that after what she’s been through. The weird thing is, I could swear she feels it too, because her eyes are trained on mine and neither of us moves for a little too long.
Luckily, my phone buzzes, alerting me to a text from Rage.
RAGE: I think I got everything on her list, including her spare key and one incredibly sweet cat. Should I bring her by now or wait until tomorrow?
GRIM: I think she’s going to bed soon. Let’s wait until tomorrow. We may drive up to headquarters anyway and can meet you there.
RAGE: So I get to keep her for a night?! Fuck yeah.
I chuckle at his excitement. He really loves cats.
Unlike me. I’m more of a dog guy.
That’s not a problem, though—I’m willing to suck it up for Allora.