Chapter 3 #2
Her loved ones—thankfully, I don’t have any.
Her OCD is a big part of her life and struggles, and it has warped her personality into always requiring control.
She’s protective, loyal, and so fucking accommodating to my struggles.
But this burden I seem to offload onto people is a reason I’ve spent my life alone. I don’t like being vulnerable. I don’t like being open.
And I absolutely fucking refuse to open up to anyone about the dead man and the trauma he’s causing me.
Even George doesn’t have that luxury yet.
Alvie coughs, and I frown over at the elephant shifter. He’s rocking back and forth on his heels, and he better hope that the sole doesn’t mark the wood flooring in here.
Ari might actually skin him alive and sell his tusks to the highest bidder.
If it were me, I’d host a competition and let people murder him as the reward.
But she’s not as cruel as I am.
“Why are you still here?” I ask.
“I’ll ignore that since I know I’m your favourite bodyguard,” Alvie says.
“That’s only because you’ve never been hers,” Ari says, and the amusement is clear in her voice. “It’s not a real compliment.”
“I seem to find none of the compliments I receive in this house are real compliments,” he says dryly.
But, somehow, there’s a heat to his words that makes Ari blush. Nora hides her grin, winking at me when I just awkwardly stare at her so I can avoid them.
I feel like I’m intruding on such a private moment the longer they hold eye contact. They’re not actually doing anything, but the tension in the room makes it hard to breathe.
Nora’s delicate cough breaks their intense stare down, and after offering to make or order food, Alvie leaves us alone.
“Do you want to shower or get changed before we settle in?” Ari asks softly. “I know you struggle with it but wasn’t sure if…”
“If I’d want to wash the crazy off me? Sadly, that’s ingrained,” I mumble, not sure why I feel so exhausted all of a sudden.
“I mean, I was thinking more about the hospital germs,” she says with a shiver.
“I don’t think I can handle one just yet,” I murmur, looking down at my feet. I bend down, removing my heels, and tuck them next to the sofa before sitting down on my usual chair.
Nora tosses me a blanket, but I don’t really feel like wearing it, so I lay it on the arm of the chair.
“Any questions before we grill you?” Nora asks. “I’m not going to lie, I think George has trained me well.”
“Trained you? More like forced you into learning how to be mentally healthy.” Ari’s tone is teasing, amusement filling her face. Her eyes brighten, and her smile is wide—if it weren’t for the red blotches and swelling, you’d never know she’s been crying all morning.
“When do you think I pass?”
I let the two of them continue their teasing bickering as I try and let myself get calm. I wasn’t sure if I’d be okay back in the flat, considering his dirty presence tainted the place, but it’s actually nice to be home.
Comforting, weirdly.
Although, I really hope it’s not here.
They wouldn’t bring it inside, right?
Lucifer can’t be that stupid.
Hades is, for sure, but not my imp.
“Where… where is it?” I whisper, looking between the two girls. They immediately fall silent and exchange a look.
“Where is what, love?” Ari asks, tugging her blanket over her lap.
“His head,” Nora says calmly. Ari gags, and I nod slowly. “I have no idea, if I’m being honest. By the time I got here, you were already unconscious, and Ari had carried you to the car.”
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” I interject, glaring at my pregnant friend.
She shrugs. “It was either me or one of the men claiming to be your mate, and if they touched you…”
Bile burns my throat, and I hang my head, not wanting either of them to see my face as I try to rapidly blink my tears away. My legs are trembling once more, and I sit forward off the sofa to limit what’s touching me as I try to regulate my breathing.
The last thing I need is a second major meltdown today.
I don’t know whether the panic is at the thought of them being proven as liars… or of the bond not forming.
Fuck, that’s terrifying.
“Ari got in our car with Alvie, and we all headed to the hospital with you,” Nora continues. “Caspian stayed behind, I think, so he probably sorted it out. Want me to shout for Alvie or Micah?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “I just…”
I can’t even explain it. I won’t let myself get trapped in the cycle of him again.
My chest hurts, but I push the thought down, seal the box, and throw the key into the acid pit of my brain where it belongs. I refuse to entertain this.
“It’s not here,” Ari promises. She reaches over for me before snatching her hand back as she remembers. The tips of her ears redden, but I don’t comment on it.
My head touching her lap one time does not make us regular touching buddies. Especially not in this mood.
“Shame,” I say dryly. “It would’ve made for a beautiful mantlepiece.”
Ari gags again, and I smother a giggle. Alvie interrupts to bring Nora and Ari the sandwiches they asked for, and he places one on the coffee table in front of me.
It’s quiet as they eat, both girls on their phones, and I hate it. Being trapped with my own chaotic thoughts, the whined cries from my chromius, and the pathetic yearning to contact Julian is exhausting me.
“That’s a lot of sighing, Maevey Baby,” Ari says, tilting her head. “Want to share what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”
The fact she can still call me beautiful when faced with the most ugly part of my past is telling.
Telling of what, I have no idea, but it tells something.
“Everything just feels…” I groan, reaching up to undo my hair from the bun I have it in. As if that’s going to manage to untwist the thoughts in my mind.
“Overwhelming? Scary? Panicked?” Nora tries to fill in.
“Dark? Twisted? Terrifying?” Ari adds.
“No,” I say, eyeing them both up weirdly. “Are you guys scared? It just feels so coincidental.”
“Coincidental,” they both repeat at the same time, their tones identically confused.
“Coincidental,” I repeat. “Too neat to be chance.”
I grab the hairbrush off the bottom of the coffee table and brush through my hair, flinching each time that the bristles touch my scalp.
I fucking hate the feeling of brushing my hair.
“Okay, you’re going to need to explain that to us,” Nora says. “Because nothing about this seems like a coincidence. It feels awful, and shitty, and really fucking scary.”
“But wait for me to clear up before explaining,” Ari demands, jumping up off the sofa. She grabs hers and Nora’s plates, and my full one, before going through to the kitchen.
“While the sunshine shifter is gone, can I ask you a question?” Nora whispers.
I nod my head, not looking at her as I start doing the bun in my hair properly.
“Are you… are you feeling low enough to hurt yourself?”
I shake my head, tying the bobble around my ballerina bun. This is the best way to keep my hair off my shoulders, and it means not a single strand of hair can escape to tickle my neck or face and send me into a panic attack.
“No,” I promise. I meet her eyes, giving her as reassuring a smile as I can. “Why would I want to end my life when his is over? The best revenge is living the fullest life I can while he rots.”
She nods, blowing out a breath of air. “Good.”
“Okay, okay, sorry,” Ari says, rushing back to the sofa she and Nora are snuggling on. “Alvie’s washing the dishes. Correctly, I hope, so that we can talk properly. Did I miss anything?”
Nora shakes her head. “Nope. Except me dying in anticipation.”
“There’s been enough death today,” Ari groans. “No more.”
“Well, that’s the thing that’s coincidental. Don’t you think it’s odd that on the exact day my stepdad’s head was delivered to me, that Julian and Adrian get into some fight where he’s “likely dead”?”
I put air quotes around the words likely dead.
Nora and Ari exchange looks, and I don’t need them to verbalise their thoughts this time. It’s obvious—they think I’m crazy.
“Look, I’m not saying that Adrian’s sitting away in his office with a crime drama cork board covered in pictures of me with red string,” I argue. “I’m just saying that it’s stupid to think they’re not linked.”
Ari clears her throat. “It seems more like awful timing, Maevey Baby. What link would Julian or Adrian have to your stepdad? He was in prison.”
“What link would the head of the tribunal have to the prison system? Hm, let me think.” I roll my eyes. “I get a gift-wrapped reminder of my abuse the same day Julian gets horn-speared by his uncle?”
Nora giggles, and both Ari and I snap our heads to look at her incredulously.
“Sorry, sorry,” she says, trying to calm down, but erupting into another giggle fit.
“You’re being a tad bit insensitive, Nora,” Ari whispers, although we can all hear her.
“Sorry,” she repeats, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It’s just you’re making it sound like Julian and Adrian… you know.”
“I don’t know.” I tilt my head, as Ari also laughs. “What am I missing?”
“Hopefully nothing,” Nora teases. “But when you’re saying Julian was speared with his uncle’s horn, you make it sound a little sexual.”
I grimace. “Ew. That image is even worse than the ones done to me.”
Ari sighs, a pained expression flashing across her face. “You break my heart, Maeve. I hate how much you’ve suffered.”
The loud whimper from my chromius hurts my heart, and I immediately block her connection to me. She’s shattering, bit by bit, and I can’t let that happen to me.
Every flashback, every sound, every smell is trying to throw me back into the darkness of my old trauma. I know if I let it in, it’ll overwhelm me and destroy me along with her.
We’re not going to do that.
“I’m just stating the obvious,” I say, changing the subject to one I can handle discussing. “He dies, and Julian and Adrian go at each other? Sounds like a distraction to me.”
Nora tucks her feet under herself. “If it’s connected, what does that change for you?”
Everything.