Chapter 62 The Present
THE PRESENT
AMELIA
I began passing the time by reading Blake’s journal. I knew I shouldn’t, but with the increased hours spent at home, the temptation was too great to resist. I rarely stayed at Sabrina’s house anymore, not with Caiden living there.
Blake’s writings unfolded in detailed paragraphs, chronicling his days with an unsettling clarity. He delved into themes of shadows, isolation, and visions of death, painting vivid pictures of the taste of flesh on his tongue and the thrill he derived from slicing his knife through skin.
One entry struck particularly deep; it revealed how he had come to understand his father's twisted desires.
He expressed, in a sickening way, that he felt he had inherited his father's spirit after killing him, viewing that act as his eternal punishment for the slaughter of his parents.
He detailed the torment of his victims. Playing mind games, indulging in knife play, depriving them of sleep and food, pushing them to their breaking points.
He would grant them a fleeting glimmer of hope, only to extinguish it with their final moments, relishing the panic in their eyes as they faded into lifelessness.
I should stop reading, but I couldn’t.
Sleep continued to elude me. I had writing deadlines to meet for the company I worked for, yet my work was slipping into disarray.
Some days, I sat in the dark, my gaze tracing the shadows, fearing they would consume me.
I felt myself sinking deeper into the abyss, helpless to pull back as memories of the cage engulfed me.
On those nights, I yearned for Caiden. I needed him to save me, to hold me, to protect me. But then, the memory of cradling my dead sister would crash over me, dragging the weight of rage back into my chest.
A deep shame washed over me as I recalled my kiss with Caiden, the very act that felt like a betrayal of Lillian’s memory.
I was terrible. He was terrible. We were both terrible.
A battlefield raged within my mind, and I felt utterly powerless against its fury.
Amidst my secluded turmoil, a knock reverberated through the air. My body tensed, realization dawning that someone was at the door.
Cautiously, I stood and made my way to the entrance. Peeking through the peephole, relief flooded me when I saw Sabrina’s familiar face.
I opened the door, welcoming her inside.
“Amelia! Hey, how are you? I haven’t seen you in a few days,” she said, stepping through the threshold and enveloping me in a quick hug. I shrugged and sank onto the black couch.
“Not doing well.” I didn’t bother lying.
She settled beside me, her wide, sad gaze fixed on my face. I despised that expression, the one brimming with pity.
“I got worried when you said you weren’t coming by at night. Did something happen?”
“I just don’t want to be a burden, that’s all.” How could I explain that my reluctance stemmed from Caiden? He was Shane’s stepbrother; he deserved to occupy that space more than I did.
“Honey, you are not a burden. We enjoy having you around and knowing that you are safe.” Her voice was warm and genuine.
“Am I safe, though? I don’t feel safe. Not when I sleep, not when I’m awake. I still feel the terror that haunted me in the wilderness.”
“I’m sorry. I know healing will be a long process. Why don’t you share your feelings with Caiden? He went through it too; it could be beneficial for both of you to bond over it and find solace together.” Her suggestions were logical, and it would work if we had a normal relationship.
“No. There’s too much history with Caiden.” My voice dripped with bitterness.
She furrowed her brows, confusion clouding her features. “History? What do you mean? Being lost together? I know he’s been concerned about you. He asked about you the other day and wanted to know if you were okay.”
That revelation ignited my temper. “No! I’m not okay. He and I kissed. I kissed my childhood enemy. At this point, I’m not even sure what we are. We endured so much together out there, and it changed how we felt. But now that we’re back, it feels like we’ve reverted to where we began.”
Sabrina’s hand flew to her mouth in surprise. “You and Caiden knew each other? From years ago? Why didn’t you say anything? And when did you kiss?” Her shocked tone shifted to excitement as she asked her last question.
I let out a strangled groan, burying my face in my hands.
“Yes. We practically hated each other. He bullied me, and I loathed him for it. All because my drug-addicted mother had an affair with his dad, which led to his mom abandoning them and leaving Caiden with his abusive, alcoholic father. Both our lives spiraled downward after that.”
I glanced up at her silent expression. “I didn’t mention it because I didn’t want to ruin the trip.”
“And the kiss?” She inquired.
“It happened in the guest bedroom after I had a nightmare. I flipped out and told him to leave.”
“Oh, sweetie… I don’t claim to know every twisted knot of your past, and honestly, it doesn’t change how I feel about you. But I do know Caiden cares, he’s practically unraveling over something, and I have a hunch it ties back to that kiss you two shared. You owe it to both of you to talk it out.”
I felt the familiar flutter of panic in my chest, my inner child screaming to run, to hide.
But my grown-up self—the one who’d learned that pain doesn’t heal itself—nudged me forward. I couldn’t outrun this forever.
A cold shiver raced down my spine as I eased open the mental door I’d bolted shut for so long. Light spilled through the crack, warm and golden, illuminating a future where laughter echoed in sunlit rooms, where Caiden’s hand fit perfectly in mine.
My chest tightened at the sight of it, how soft the promise looked. Did I deserve a future so gentle? Did I dare risk another heartbreak?
Every instinct warned me: Caiden Baxter was forbidden territory. And yet, there were nights when I closed my eyes and pictured his arms around me, safe and steady.
I remembered him once—before anger and revenge warped our paths—innocent, kind. What might have grown between us had we never become enemies? Childhood allies who blossomed into something more?
A tender, aching thought whispered that maybe, in another life, we were already blissfully in love.
“I’ll talk to him,” I finally whispered, my voice trembling like a candle in the breeze. “But not yet. Every time I see him, I’m dragged back to that cage, to the pain.”
Sabrina reached across the couch and brushed a hand over my shoulder. “Avoiding it won’t make it hurt any less. Sometimes you have to stare pain in the face to break its power.”
I rolled my eyes, though her words stung with truth. “Ugh. Must you always be so wise?”
She laughed softly, a warm bell in the dim living room. “That’s what best friends do. I can’t let you bury yourself in misery.”
I hated that she was right.
“Is that all you came here for?” I asked, trying to shift the mood.
Her eyes danced with excitement. “Actually… Shane and I decided to move the wedding up. With everything going on, we all need a little sparkle in our lives. We’re tying the knot in two weeks. I’m hoping, you’ll still be my maid of honor?”
A genuine smile blossomed across my face, lighting me from the inside out. She deserved every ounce of happiness her heart could hold—and more.
“That’s wonderful, Sabrina. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
She squealed, hugging me so fiercely my ribs ached. “Yay! It’s going to be magical, I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” I teased, nestling into her embrace.
We lingered a while longer, sipping tea and laughing softly as the evening shadows stretched.
She reminded me—again—to call Caiden, and I gave her my solemn vow.
Yet the instant her front door clicked shut behind her, doubt crept in like a chill through the cracks. I curled up beneath the blankets, the ghost of uncertainty whispering over my skin as I stared at the ceiling, lost in the cold hush of my own doubts.