34. Wolff
Her warm body presses against my chest, breathing slow and even while the storm tears apart the ocean outside.
Rain lashes against the porthole hard enough to rattle the glass, the ship groaning with every violent wave, but she barely stirs.
Just curls closer beneath the blankets, one hand resting lightly against my stomach, fingers twitching occasionally in her sleep.
I should move.
I should get the fuck up and sit in the chair like I did before.
I stare at the ceiling, one arm wrapped around her waist, my thumb dragging absently along her spine.
The storm slams against the hull again.
She shifts with a soft sound, her nose brushing my chest.
“Wolff?” Her voice is rough with sleep.
Her hand slides upward slowly, fingertips brushing over the Sovereign brand burned into my chest. My jaw tightens instantly. The urge to move her hand away hits hard enough that my muscles twitch with it.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I’m fine.”
Her fingers trace the raised edges of the branding before drifting lower across the stitches in my side. I force myself not to recoil.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
Her touch is so light it feels like nothing and everything all at once. After a while, her hand settles back against my chest, palm pressing over my heart.
“Will you teach me…” she trails off sleepily. “That thing you did when I panicked?” My eyes finally shift downward toward her hand. “The grounding thing. When you made me touch you and breathe…”
My entire body goes still.
The ship disappears.
The storm disappears.
And suddenly, I’m somewhere else entirely.
“Jake! They’re coming again!” Miranda’s whisper cracks through the dark.
Panic hits, and I nearly throw up in my cage. I can’t breathe. I claw at the rusted wire wrapped around my wrists, chains rattling while heavy footsteps echo somewhere upstairs. Men laughing.
“No, no, no…” My voice barely works anymore. Days without speaking turns words into broken glass inside my throat.
The basement smells like blood and piss. Cold concrete digs into my knees while my body shakes so hard my teeth won’t stop slamming together.
Jake grabs my arm through the bars. “Dylan. Look at me.”
I can’t.
The basement door upstairs slams open with enough force that the pipes clank. Drunken laughter spills down the stairs.
“I want that pretty green-eyed boy.”
My stomach drops instantly.
More drunk laughter.
“The little bastard cries so nice every single time.”
“Please not Dylan again.” Miranda’s chains scrape against the wall as she tries to reach us. I scramble backward, deeper into the cage, but there’s nowhere left to go. My chest locks so tight I can’t breathe around it.
Jake grabs the front of my shirt harder through the bars, dragging me forward until my face presses against the cold metal between us.
“Focus on me. Not them.”
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Can’t breathe.
Can’t fucking breathe.
The footsteps move closer, keys jingling. Jake grabs my wrist and forces my hand flat against his chest through the bars.
“Feel that?” His heartbeat pounds powerfully beneath my palm. “You feel my heart? Match it. Come on, Dylan. Stay with me.”
Miranda’s sobs grow louder.
So do the others.
Sarah’s crying somewhere down the row of cages, little hiccupping sobs that won’t stop. Jonas’s shaking voice keeps yelling at her to be quiet before they hear. Caleb curls around the youngest kids in his cage, trying to cover their mouths before the men come downstairs.
I grip Jake’s shirt tighter, focusing on the pounding beneath his ribs instead of the sound of boots moving down the stairs.
“Good,” he whispers. “That’s it. Keep breathing.”
I suck in a shaky breath, and the air burns my lungs. He squeezes my wrist through the bars.
“You’re a fighter, Dylan. You hear me? Strongest one down here.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know.” Blood drips from Jake’s split lip when he smiles. “Being scared doesn’t make you weak.”
The footsteps grow louder. Closer.
“Hey. Look at me. You know what wolves do when they’re scared? They protect the pack.”
I blink at him through watery eyes.
“You survive every time they hurt you. And you still worry about everybody else down here after.”
Deep laughter grows nearer.
I flinch, my vision blurring, tears now streaming my face. Jake presses my hand more firmly against his chest.
“Feel my heartbeat. Breathe.”
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
“Someday, Dylan, you’re gonna be big enough that nobody can ever hurt you again.” Jake glances toward the cages lining the basement before looking back at me. “And when we get out of here, you’re gonna help me protect everybody, alright?”
He says it like he believes it.
“You wanna hear about the lake again?” he asks.
I nod immediately.
The lake. Always the stupid lake. And wolves. All he ever talks about. Like if he says the stories enough, maybe they’ll become real someday.
“When we get out, I’m teaching you how to swim first.”
The footsteps get louder.
My breathing spikes again.
“Hey. Stay with me.”
I force myself to focus on the rhythm beneath my palm.
“You’ll like it there. Water’s so clear, you can see straight to the bottom. We’ll stay there all day. Forever if you want.”
My breathing finally starts slowing enough that I don’t feel like I’m dying.
“That’s it. Just focus on my heartbeat.”
I focus on him, on the steady rhythm beneath my hand, on his voice. On the lie we both pretend to believe.
Opening my eyes, I meet Jake’s staring back at me, his dirty-blond hair hanging in his bruised face.
“Remember what I told you.” He squeezes my fingers one last time. “Wolves survive…”
“Wolff?”
I blink hard, the basement finally dissolving as I look down at AJ curled against my side, her hand still resting over my heart, eyes heavy with sleep.
I grab her wrist and move her hand away from the center of my chest. Away from my heart.
Away from the memories clawing their way up my fucking throat.
“Will you teach—”
“It was something my brother taught me,” I admit before I can stop myself.
Instant fucking regret.
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
I stare back at the ceiling, muscles locking tight while rain hammers against the tiny porthole beside the bed. The ship groans around us, but all I can hear is chains rattling and kids crying in the dark.
I can still feel Jake’s heartbeat against my palm.
Still hear the boots on the stairs.
“Where is he?”
“Dead.”
I keep my eyes locked on the ceiling, willing the memories to get the fuck out of my head, but they keep bleeding through. My skull feels like it’s splitting behind my eyes. I drag a hand down my face, rough palm scraping through my beard while AJ stays quiet beside me for once.
Miranda’s voice echoes through my head anyway.
We missed you at Jake’s funeral.
I was busy—I lied.
I didn’t miss his funeral.
I stood across the cemetery in the rain, watching Jake’s casket be lowered into the ground beside four other headstones.
Our siblings.
Who I killed.
Rain poured down my face while the priest talked about peace and family and God, like any of us had ever known a fucking second of it.
Miranda cried the entire time, clutching Jonas’s hand covered in burned scars.
Caleb stood behind her with Sarah tucked against his side while Jake’s wife held their little boy against her chest.
His son looked so much like him; it made me feel sick.
I never walked closer than the tree line.
I stayed where I belonged—hidden in the dark. Far enough away that none of them had to look at me.
My jaw locks, and pain shoots into my temples. I press the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to force the memories back down.
It doesn’t fucking work.
I rip myself away from AJ. The cold air hits my skin immediately as I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grab my jeans off the floor. Every movement tugs at the stitches in my side. My shoulder feels half torn apart when I push my arm through the sleeve of my jacket.
I ignore it.
Pain is easy.
This shit in my head isn’t.
“Wolff?”
“Go back to sleep, AJ.” I don’t look at her while I shove my boots on. “It’s late.”
I step into the narrow hallway and shut the cabin door behind me before she can say anything else.
The second I step onto the deck, freezing rain smacks into my face, momentarily stealing my breath. Wind tears across the ship in violent bursts, saltwater spraying over the railing while the ocean churns black beneath the storm.
I grip the metal railing hard enough that my knuckles ache as I stare out at the waves crashing against the hull.
Why the fuck is this happening now?
I buried all of it years ago.
Jake.
The cages.
That fucking house.
Everything.
Buried it so deep, I stopped thinking it could touch me anymore.
And now this girl crawls into my bed, puts her hand over my heart, and suddenly I’m eight years old again, listening to boots coming down basement stairs.
My grip tightens harder on the railing.
The storm howls around me, but it still isn’t loud enough to drown out the memories. Or the worse realization settling like poison in my chest.
This was supposed to be a mission:
Get the girl.
Keep her alive.
Get promoted.
That’s it.
Instead, she’s curled up next to me in fucking bed, wearing my clothes, asking me to touch her like I’m something safe. Looking at me like I’m more than what I am.
My teeth grind, my nerves stripped raw.
She doesn’t understand what happens to people who get close to me.
They die.
Or I ruin them so badly they wish that they had.
The rain pours harder, soaking through my clothes while I stare into the black water below. Jake thought I’d protect us all someday. Instead, I killed half of them. And now AJ looks at me the same fucking way he used to.
Like there’s still something worth saving in me.
Another wave crashes against the ship.
I close my eyes briefly. Because the worst part—the part making my chest feel like it’s splitting open—is that for the first time in years…
I almost want her to be right.