Chapter 19 #4
“Silas said Savannah is well known for its moss and trees. Whenever I feel as if the walls are closing in on me, we go for a walk in the backyard.”
“You haven’t left the house?” Hollis asks calmly.
“Just to go to one of Troy’s hockey practices and the warehouse to take care of my kidnappers. Oh, and Troy takes me to the rec center to swim,” I say. “I get tired easily. I don’t like the stares.”
“Even now, you talk like a mafia daughter,” she says. “They’re not keeping her hostage inside this beautiful house, guys. Put a pin in it and stop stirring up trouble. I’m almost done, Alisa.”
“Okay, fine. I know I feel like a broken record,” Caleb grunts. “We’ll work on figuring out Dad while you stay as far away from Minnesota as possible.”
“Easton has said things aren’t completely safe in Savannah. They’re being really careful about where we go too,” I explain.
“We’re aware of how fucked the auctions are here,” Hollis says. “I’m perfectly fine with your pack sticking like glue to your cute behind.”
“Ugh, Hollis,” Lars groans, burying his head in his arms. “Stop, please, for the love of god.”
“I love to fuck with you,” she says happily. “Okay, let’s wash your hair now.”
I swear the guys are taking turns coming out to see me because Easton walks outside next to pick me up.
“Bathroom it is,” he says. Hollis follows him inside, and she washes my hair in the bathtub. Forty minutes later, I gaze at my sleek hair as it tumbles past my shoulders.
“It feels so much lighter,” I breathe, running my fingers through my hair. “Thank you, Hollis.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I didn’t fuck it up,” she grins. “I’m going to triple check your pack has my number before we leave.”
“Okay. You’re going back tomorrow?” I ask.
“We are, but we’ll come right back if you need anything. Those idiots you call your brothers adore you. They missed the years where they’d watch you grow up and tell themselves you can take care of yourself,” she says, walking with me through the hall. “It’s why they’re so unhinged.”
I need to stretch my legs and we walk slowly. She easily matches my pace and pulls my arm through hers to help me keep my equilibrium.
“Is that what we’re going with?” I snort.
“If I don’t, I’ll end up killing them,” she shrugs. “They have their good moments. When my day is shit, they pick me up from work and eat lemon squares with me. My pack is perfectly fine sharing me with them in a platonic way.”
“How adult of them,” I grin.
“Men aren’t dumb a hundred percent of the time.”
Thank fuck for that.
Caleb and Lars hug me as they leave, and I sag in relief as soon as the door shuts.
“We’re drinking in the den,” Lyle says, picking me up as he walks in that direction.
“Silas already cleared the table and put what was left of Lars’ food in the fridge.
Oh, and your new knife is in the kitchen.
He just happened to put it there. We’ll get you fitted for both a knife and gun holster tomorrow.
I’ll call and have someone come out here so we don’t have to leave the house. ”
“That’s a thing?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck. I feel lighter now. I didn’t lose my shit while talking to my brothers and I didn’t over share.
I’ll claim my win for what it is.
“It is for us,” he shrugs. “We heard everything.”
“I know,” I sigh.
“Troy has hockey tape to go over before tomorrow. Want to heckle the competition with us?”
“If you continue to explain what I don’t understand, then yes.”
Hockey sounds like an excellent distraction.
“I know we said we’d take you to a game, but you look dead on your feet, Little Fighter,” he murmurs.
“I know. I haven’t spent that much time talking to someone in years,” I groan. “I don’t have to talk while watching hockey.”
Troy glances up with a smile as we walk in, and Lyle settles in the middle of the huge couch, allowing me to curl up against him. I almost feel as if I’m coming down from a sort of high and my body is slowly relaxing now that I’m not on guard with my words anymore.
“We play Nashville in two weeks. You can meet Caelia then if she comes,” he says, having heard some of what Lyle said. “Hockey isn’t going anywhere, baby. Be nice to yourself.”
“Why is it so hard,” I complain. “It feels as if my body is trying to be a pain in the ass.”
“It’s not just your body,” Silas says. “Your mind has been focusing on survival for so long, it’s hard for you to be able to simply be. You’re deregulated.”
“Hence, the tears when you’re upset or frustrated,” Lyle adds helpfully. “Let yourself figure out who you are. It’s called unmasking after trauma and hard as fuck from what I understand. You don’t need to hide from us, which is why you’re so relaxed now. I love being your safe place.”
“My brothers used to be this for me,” I rasp. My voice is tired as hell.
My water tumbler appears magically before me, and I pop the top and take a sip gratefully.
“I know,” Lyle murmurs.
They can’t fix this for me. I guess it’s just going to need to be awkward for a little longer while we find our way.
Fuck my life.