20. Odette
20
ODETTE
Chicago, Illinois
The fifteen hour drive back to Chicago feels like a lifetime. I’m eager — no, desperate — to put as much distance between myself and Vermont. My knuckles ache from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. Peyton and I take turns driving, while Azriel sits in the backseat with Aurora.
As someone who hates long car rides — yet another trait she got from me — she been wide awake the entire time and uncharacteristically quiet. Azriel and Peyton exchange glances through the rear view mirror, the kind that speak volumes but say little.
The beauty about driving through the night is no traffic. Peyton and I switched up an hour ago, so this final stretch of the drive is all mine. I focus on the road, the hum of the engine the only sound filling the otherwise quiet space. My chest feels like a hollow cavern, the weight of Duncan’s threat pressing down on me. I don’t let myself cry. Not yet. Not while Aurora is watching. It’s bad enough that she’s retreated into her shell, I can’t let her see me break.
Duncan doesn’t have any legal standing, my lawyer assured me of that nine years ago. What I’m worried about, is that he will try anyway. The only one who gets hurt the most in this is Aurora, and I am to blame for that. Despite Chloe’s warning, I let myself get lulled into a false sense of security. Not only that, I took it five steps further and let him into my heart again. And in doing so, I brought chaos into Aurora’s life. I wish I could take it all back. Or go back in time to six days ago and talk myself out of going to Vermont in the first place.
It’s almost 9 A.M. when I finally pull into the Sinclairs’ driveway. My body is stiff from the hours spent behind the wheel, but the sight of their familiar home brings a bittersweet comfort.
“Stay the night… well, morning,” Peyton offers as Azriel opens the back door to help Aurora out.
“I’m fine.”
“You’ve been driving for hours, Odette. You need rest.”
I hesitate, glancing at Aurora. She clings to Azriel’s arm as she watches me with fear and uncertainty. I did that. It’s my fault she’s afraid, and the thought of leaving her feels impossible.
I nod. “Okay.”
The lone word has Aurora dropping Azriel’s hand in favor of mine.
Inside, everything feels warm and safe, the way it always does here. Peyton takes my coat, and Azriel disappears into the kitchen, probably to put on tea. Aurora doesn’t let go of my hand, though, her grip surprisingly strong for someone so small.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I say softly. “Let’s get you to bed.”
“No!” she whimpers, her voice trembling. “I want to stay with you.”
My heart aches as I crouch down to her level. “I’ll be right here when you wake up, I promise.”
Her lip quivers. “What if he takes me away?”
I feel like the floor drops out from under me. I pull her into my arms, holding her close. “That’s not going to happen,” I say firmly, even though fear coils in my stomach. “I won’t let it happen. This is your home, and Peyton and Azriel are your parents. No one is going to take that away from you.”
Her little arms tighten around my neck. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
I’m not one to make promises without all the data to back it up, but this is one promise I intend to keep. Or die trying. I carry her upstairs to her bedroom, Peyton following with a glass of water. Once Aurora is tucked in, she refuses to let go of my hand.
“Please stay,” she whimpers, tears brimming in her eyes.
Peyton sets the glass down on the side dresser, gives her a kiss on the cheek, and taps my shoulder. “I’ll wait outside.”
I slide under the covers beside Aurora, wrapping her in my arms. She sobs softly against my chest, her small body shaking with each breath. I stroke her hair, murmuring soothing words I’m not sure either of us believe.
“You’re safe,” I whisper over and over. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”
The tears I’ve been holding back finally fall, silent and steady. I cry for her fear, for the chaos I’ve brought into her life, for the man I left behind in Vermont. I cry because I don’t know what’s coming next, and I’m terrified.
Aurora’s breathing evens out eventually, her tears subsiding as sleep takes over. I hold her close, her warmth grounding me as my mind races.
I stare at the ceiling, the shadows of the room playing tricks on my tired eyes. I know I should rest, but my thoughts are too loud, too insistent. Duncan’s anger, his threats, his pain — they swirl in my mind like a storm. But I can’t let that consume me now. Aurora needs me, and I can’t fall apart. Not yet. Not ever.
I press a kiss to her forehead, the faint scent of her shampoo anchoring me. “I’ve got you,” I whisper again, even as my own doubts threaten to swallow me whole. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”
And I hold her tighter, as if I can shield her from the world with nothing but my arms and my love.