Page 41 of Sick Little Devotion

My stomach feels sick at the thought of anything happening to the girls. I’d never be able to live with myself. Why won’t Aiden just let me reach out to them and make sure they’re okay? I sigh with frustration, running my fingers through my hair. Everything that’s happened since I’ve gotten here has been a roller coaster. One moment, I’m happy with Aiden, feeling the old spark…

And the next I fucking hate him.

Now, I don’t even know what I think or feel. Other than sick. Terribly sick. I wrap my arms around my stomach, pushing out the pain that I now suspect Aiden went through. Were the pills a coping mechanism for what Will did to him? I knew that Will had beaten him black and blue after he assaulted Ron, but I didn’t think… I didn’t think he had done anything else.

But maybe that’s why he never reported Ron’s assault to the police?

To avoid any further unnecessary attention, to keep his secrets buried.

Bile rises in my throat as I glance at the clock. I’ve been sitting in the same spot for nearly an hour, and Aiden hasn’t come back. I need more answers from him. I push myself to a standing position and wipe my sweaty palms on my pants.

Maybe I shouldn’t have been so hard on him.

But that’s rich, considering he kidnapped me and is holding me here against my will. My head is an absolute wreck, and making sense of anything feels useless. Slowly, I pad across the floor to the door and open it.

I peer out into the empty hallway, listening for sounds of life. However, I don’t hear anything. I step out, closing the door behind me. As it clicks, the sound echoes in the house. I don’t know if I like living in a house this size.

“Sara?” a voice causes me to jump. I turn to see Aiden exiting another room a few doors down. “Where are you going?” His voice isn’t sharp or demanding. If anything, it’s hauntingly soft and eerie.

“I was actually coming to find you,” I say carefully. “I was hoping we could talk about what happened earlier.”

His lips turn downward. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Aiden’s answer doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. He wasn’t ever one to talk to me about his own struggles. He always only focused on me.

And that only makes the weight of his past sit more heavily on my shoulders.

Everything in me wants to walk away, to let his obstinance go, but something else—something deep inside of me needs to know what happened to him. I take a step toward him, pushing the fear to the side.

“I want to know what happened,” I whisper. “I’ll listen. I promise.”

His expression is difficult to read, but he nods. “Okay. I’ll tell you all of it, but you have to promise that you won’t speak until I’m finished.”

“I promise.” I want to reach out and grab his hand, but suddenly I’m more timid than before, terrified that my touch will hurt him—like we’d never fucked. Like we haven’t crossed all the physical lines already.

Aiden doesn’t look at me as he slips past me. “Come on.”

I follow him down the hallway, past the rooms that I recognize. I have no idea where we’re going, but he doesn’t stop until we reach the far corner of the house just before the hallway makes a hard turn to the right.

He opens the last door, which I am surprised to see is a stairwell. He begins to ascend the steps, but I hesitate at the bottom, glancing back behind me. Maybe I shouldn’t follow him up. However, I feel obligated, and so I go, noting the finishes of the stairs are worn. It’s as if the entire house is suddenly hundreds of years old.

“Where are we going?” I ask from behind him.

“To the lookout.” His voice is devoid of any emotion. I take the answer and don’t pry any further, climbing the remaining flight in silence.

When we make it to the top, I realize it is exactly as he described it—a lookout. Surrounded by windows, I realize we’re in a tower of sorts. It gives me Rapunzel vibes, and for a moment, I’m lost in the view of the rolling estate and the wooded surroundings.

“I thought I would build this as a guard tower, but I decided to keep it for myself,” Aiden says, his voice coming out in a heavy breath. “I haven’t finished it up here though. I had other… priorities.”

I don’t ask what those were, but I have a good feeling it involves kidnapping me. In the middle of the room is one lone black daybed, a matching throw tossed on it.

“I used to sleep up here some nights,” Aiden adds as I stare at the spot. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around everything, but I’m… I’m just as fucked up as you. Maybe more.”

I look back to him, swallowing the knot in my throat. “I knew he hurt you after what happened with Uncle Ron.”

The color in Aiden’s face drains. “I haven’t told anyone other than a therapist what happened, Sara. I don’t know…”

I nod, forcing myself to be brave—to look into the face of my captor and take every ounce of truth he is about to give with compassion and understanding. “I can handle it.” None of it justified the fact he took me from my home and forced me to stay here, but…

But somehow, in my mind, it feels like it might.