Chapter 13
Backin my apartment, I paced through the small space, crossing my arms across my chest as I tried to process everything I’d learned over the last few days. It was enough to make me want to run to the top of Mont-Royal and scream to the stars.
Myparents had died in the fire. Hugo had tried to rescue them, but he couldn’t. He’d rescued me. I owed my life to him and yet?—
Itwas all too much.
Isank onto the sofa and lowered my head into my hands. If he’d chosen them instead. If…
“No!” I couldn’t do this. Couldn’t handle this knowledge on top of all the years of survivor’s guilt. It threatened to launch me into a full-blown meltdown.
Ihad to get out of here. The apartment walls were too confining. The itch to crawl out of my skin too rampant. I ran outside. Ran through the park, ran down the residential streets with pedestrians and buildings and cars at my side all a blur. SinceI wasn’t in condition to run, I panted for breath, the air burning my lungs. I walked quickly until I reached the banks of the St. LawrenceRiver and had nowhere left to go. I wanted to escape all these thoughts colliding in my head, but I couldn’t outrun them.
Ibent over, gasping for breath beneath the scorchingly hot sunlight. What could I do now?
Forwhat felt like hours, I wandered along the river, past joggers and families pushing strollers. I meandered down to Vieux-Montreal, walking over cobblestone as the scents from numerous cafes and restaurants surrounded me. A horse-drawn carriage clopped by me from the opposite direction just before I gaped at what must have been the site of the recent fire. Numerous tourists stared at the burned structure, which stood out as tragic among the impressive cathedrals and stunning architecture of the area.
Ileaned my back against a brick building, staring at the damage. The fire was out, the structure taped off and boarded up. It stood broken, a gaping wound of what once was sound and solid. Just how I felt inside.
* * *
The next day,I attempted to return to my normal life, back at work, back in the library. Could things go back to the way they were before the intruders had breached the library? Back to when I’d thought the gargoyle statues were mere stone?
Thegargoyles stood on watch outside, and Hugo or his statue stood near my desk inside, as he always had. Was he in there, watching?
WhileI forced myself to work at the reference desk, straining to put on a cheerful demeanor as I interacted with patrons and answered their questions, I stole glances at the stone protector who stood solid nearby. I tried to assure myself that I’d made the right decision by running away.
Wewere too different. I didn’t fit in Hugo’s world. I didn’t even know one like that existed, let alone the bond he said he felt for me. He thought I was his mate? What. The. Hell? That connection was so strong. Sointense.
Thepain in his eyes on the rooftop before I ran would forever be seared on me—as would the phenomenal night we’d shared in his bed. That was something I’d never forget. I’d never dreamed my body would feel so alive. I thought I was too repressed to let go. But the way Hugo had taken control and driven me to the edge with the wildest sensations introduced me to a side of me I hadn’t known existed.
Iwinced. Not helping.
Right. Each time I pictured Hugo’s eyes, it chiseled away at my attempt to shield myself by withdrawing. Thinking about how hot our night had been wouldn’t help me to adjust back to a safe world in which demi-demons and gargoyles and witches and spell books and damn prophecies didn’t exist.
Ineeded a separation from all those wild discoveries so I could assess them from a healthy distance. Being in the midst of so much unimaginable action over the last several days wasn’t an experience I was used to, let alone be comfortable with. I explored new worlds and experienced epic fantasies from my books, safely away in my favorite reading chair here in the library, nestled from the world in a protective cocoon. WhenI needed a breather, I’d close the book.
That’sall I was doing now, right? Taking a break from this—whatever this wild ride was with Hugo. OnceI settled my racing pulse, I could reopen the book and continue reading.
Ascowl worked its way across my face as cracks broke through my rationalization. This wasn’t a book I could simply close and deal with when I was ready. That world of otherworldly beings existed, whether I wanted to face the truth or not.
Sincediscovering it, everything had changed.
Ihad changed.
AndI’d freaked out in doing so.
Apart of me squirmed when I pictured how stricken he’d looked. He’d put on a brave face as he attempted to assuage my shock, but his pain was visible through the cracks in his good-natured appearance.
Butwhat could I do? I couldn’t simply accept everything that flew in the face of what I thought was real. I couldn’t ignore all the issues that had developed from my past and jump into the arms of a man I’d just met.
Still, man wasn’t quite the right word.
Wasit foolish to have stayed in his room? Sure, spending the time with him was amazing, unforgettable, yet I should’ve known I wasn’t cut out to have a short-term fling. I couldn’t separate my heart from my body. I craved an emotional connection with my partner.
Andapparently, Hugo did as well.
Idropped my head into my hands and groaned. What was wrong with me? I should have known better than to take a chance on something with Hugo. SinceI hadn’t had a healthy relationship with another human, what made me think I could have even contemplated one with a gargoyle?