Chapter 20
Adora
“Just so you know, I poisoned the biker.”
Ria strolls in casually, her voice dripping with cheer. A little too much cheer. Like she didn’t just confess to fucking murder.
My hand stills over my tea, spoon clattering against the porcelain. “What? The guy watching you?”
She shrugs, tossing her coat onto the pink couch carelessly. “No, not the watchdog.” Her fingers flick dismissively, like she’s shooing away a fly. “Soul Sucker Supreme. He came by to leave these for you.”
Keys and an envelope hit the counter with a metallic clink. “Said something about the cabin by the lake being yours now. He took his shit out.”
My hands shake as I reach for them, fingertips grazing the cold metal.
A shockwave runs through me, and I drop them like they’re made of acid.
I can almost feel the walls of that place closing in, suffocating.
His hands on me. His mouth. The promises never spoken.
The silent lies. I force down the bile clawing its way up my throat.
“I… I can’t deal with this right now,” I whisper.
Ria, completely unbothered, scoops up the keys and the envelope without a second thought. She marches over to one of her hanging planters, and shoves them behind a wall of greenery.
“There,” she says, dusting off her hands. “Out of sight, out of mind. They’ll be here whenever you want them back.”
Whenever I want them back. I can’t go back to that place. Not now. Maybe not ever. My skin itches just thinking about it — those walls that hold too many memories. Ghosts.
Wait. Did she say she poisoned Ghost? My mind instantly flashes to her fuzzy pink darts, the ones I found a few days ago.
A feeling I refuse to acknowledge crackles under my skin. “Ria… what exactly did you do to Ghost?”
She rolls her eyes and flicks her wrist, like poisoning someone is just another Tuesday.
“No worries. He’ll live. I’m not about to deal with a mob of leather-clad cavemen banging on my door. But for the next few hours?” Her grin stretches wide, wolfish. “He’ll have one hell of a time.”
I blink, half in disbelief, half in awe. “You are a fucking menace.”
The smile drops, her eyes thinning into hard slits. “Some people deserve to have their asses handed to them in ways that last. Sometimes a punch just isn’t enough.”
She crosses her arms over her chest, chin lifting defiantly.
“I get it, Adora. He went through hell. But while you were fighting for survival alone, he had a goddamn army at his back. A family. People who would go to war for him. So don’t feel sorry for him.
Don’t you fucking dare.” Her finger wags in my face so fast I get dizzy for a moment.
My lips curl into a smile. A little too fake. “I won’t. I promise.” As much as I want those words to be true, I can’t stop the small stab of pain that pierces through my heart.
Her grin snaps back instantly. “Good.”
She claps her hands together, practically vibrating with energy. “Now,” she beams, “you’re going to meet my friends the day after tomorrow. You’ll love them. They hate the bikers too.”
She stops, head tilting, eyes narrowing in thought. “I should probably start a support group. Biker Victims Anonymous,” she mumbles to herself, but I hear it.
The laugh bursts out of me before I can stop it, the sound rough, almost like it’s been too eager to claw out of my lungs. “Aren’t you dating Tank?”
Her face drains of color so fast I almost feel bad. She shakes her head wildly, curls bouncing like they’re having a fit.
“What? No. No dating. Why would you even say that?” Her voice pitches high, borderline hysterical. “We’re just... you know... sleeping together. That’s it. No dating. Zero dating. None whatsoever.”
My laughter dies instantly, but the smirk stays.
“Okay, I believe you,” I lie.
She’s clearly not ready to admit it to herself.
The morning I’m supposed to meet Ria’s friends, I’m in the kitchen, fists clenched around a mug of coffee gone cold. I haven’t taken a single sip. I’ve just been staring into the black like it holds any kind of answers.
It’s one of those days. The kind where the whispers are loud and relentless, slithering through the cracks of my mind.
Echoing my worst fears. Telling me I’m not enough.
That I’ll fuck this up too. That no matter how far I get, I’ll always be that broken thing hiding behind a smile.
I swear I can feel them crawling under my skin like maggots.
I feel fucking worthless. Empty. Like if I vanished right now, no one would blink.
Ghost’s voice won’t shut up — it’s on repeat, drilling into my skull, louder than everything else.
And there’s this ache in me. This pathetic, clawing thing that wants to reach out and beg.
Beg him to show up. To walk through that door and say it was just a bad joke.
Wrap me up in his arms and tell me he loves me.
Tell me our life together is still real. Tell me it’s not over.
Fuck. I need to crawl out of this hole before it eats me alive.
I had my first mandatory therapy session last week. Dr. Monroe doesn’t coddle — thank fuck. She cuts clean, no sugarcoating. Maybe that’s what I need. Someone to slap sense into me.
I’m so tired of swinging between numb and broken. I just want to breathe without hurting. To wake up and not feel like I’m dragging a corpse behind me.
Deep breath. I need to stop expecting miracles. I need to give it time.
It takes me forever to get ready. I’m moving like my bones are brittle, like they’ll snap if I rush.
Ria doesn’t need me at the shop today, so I have the entire day to waste or do something productive.
The old me would’ve buried herself under the covers.
Stared at the ceiling, and let the hours bleed out of the clock.
But not today. Today I’m choosing to fight.
There’s not much to see in this town, but damn if it isn’t outrageously beautiful.
People smile. Not the tight, strained smiles I’m used to, but real ones.
Genuine. The mountains loom in the distance and the air — fuck, the air is so clean it stings.
I get why people choose to live here. There's a peace that clings to the streets, that makes you feel like nothing bad could ever happen here.
“Adora!”
I snap out of my thoughts, and turn to see Griffin jogging over, waving at me. There’s something about him — easy, light. Like he has the world at his feet and he knows it.
“Hey, Griffin.” I wave back. “Where are you off to?”
He slows to a stop in front of me, hands braced on his hips, a grin stretched across his face. For a second, I envy the hell out of him. That lightness. That ease. He has the kind of peace people like me don’t get to keep.
“Actually, I was coming to grab you and Ria. Heading to Temperance’s place. I’m crashing girls’ night.” He says it like he’s done it many times before, as I’m sure he has.
Then he winks, and it’s so ridiculous I can’t help but laugh.
“Come on,” he says, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I’m your designated driver tonight. You know, Ria barely reaches the brakes in that van. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
I pause, considering that. Huh. “You might be right. She is way too short for that thing.”
“That’s exactly what I told her when she bought it. Word for word.” He chuckles, but then stops abruptly. Brows knitting together like he just remembered something important. “Ria mentioned you’re thinking about opening a bookstore.”
“Yeah,” I say, a little caught off guard. “It’s just an idea I’ve been tossing around. I decided I want to stay here for good. And Ria insisted it wouldn’t be the dumbest idea to open one.”
His eyes light up instantly.
“I think it’s a great idea. And I have a proposition for you.” He leans in conspiratorially, eyes glinting with mischief.
I narrow my gaze, suspicion bubbling up.
“Not that kind of proposition,” he laughs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. Then he pauses, considers something, and shrugs. “Well, I wouldn’t say no, but I’m guessing sex is the last thing on your to-do list right now.”
“It’s not even on the list, Griff,” I smile, admiring his boldness. There are no guessing games when it comes to him. No walls. No impenetrable guards.
“Thought so,” he nods wisely, his face a picture of solemnity.
Then he mirrors my own smile. “Anyway, about that bookstore of yours. I own a building across from Ria’s shop.
Had a moment of madness and made an investment.
If you’re serious about it, I can show it to you.
Friends and family discount, obviously.”
I raise a brow. “That’s at least ten percent off, right?”
He laughs, amused as hell. “You drive a hard bargain, but ok. You’d be doing me a favor, actually. I promise I’ll be the best landlord you’ve ever had.”
The flicker of hope is already lighting up inside me. “Let me see the place first. If it’s good, you might just have a deal.”
He throws his arm around me again, steering me down the sidewalk.
My mind spins with possibilities, plans stacking on top of each other like building blocks. Ghost’s money, the money Ria extorted out of him, has been sitting in my room untouched. I was going to cash the check soon, and maybe… just maybe, I already know where it’s going now.
I was never allowed to do anything I truly wanted, but for the first time ever, there’s no one stopping me now.
The world finally doesn’t feel so suffocating. It feels wide. Open. Full of potential.
“Well, shit,” Temperance blinks at me. Once. Twice.
She doesn’t say anything else for a long, agonizing stretch of silence. Just stares and blinks. Like my life story was a slap to her face. Then she grabs the bottle of wine sitting between us and tips it straight into my glass. Fills it to the fucking brim.
“Umm, I’m sorry to upset you,” I say, gripping the glass like it might save me, trying and failing not to spill any on her kitchen table. “But you insisted that you wanted to know the whole fucked-up story.”