“Mmm.” My smile spreads as I glance up. The copperhead is already moving off, seeking somewhere cooler to curl up. “I think we’re safe. He’s gone.”
She wobbles when I step away. “Who? I… um. Give me a minute.”
Grinning, I hold my hand out. The dark cloud that settled over me earlier seems to lighten. Disperse, even.
But then, Kenny always has that effect on me. Maybe that’s why I went to the trailer in the first place, instead of cancelling.
I just needed a dose of Kenny. “Come on. I promise I’ll protect you from the snakes.”
“Even the poisonous ones?” She shudders as she shakes her head, brushing against my shoulder. Casually, I settle my arm around her shoulder, giving her space to pull back.
When she presses closer, her face peeking up, my heart sings. “No snake is going to get you while I’m here. Promise.”
Day 29 – Max
“Can’twemovehersomewhere else?” I turn to Joanne again, parroting the same questions we’ve asked a dozen times in the last week.
Our liaison sighs. She’s not… unkind. She’s an overworked caseworker with too many lost causes under her belt to have any faith in this plan at all. Not that she’s voiced it, but I can see the pity in her eyes whenever she looks at us. “We talked about this, Max. Kennedy still needs to be in a safe environment. Even Abrams agrees that there isn’t anywhere better set up for her needs at this stage. If anything changes, we can reassess. But this is what we need to work with right now.”
Safe. My mouth twists as I take in the room in front of me. A thick pane of safety glass – reinforced to stop anyvicious feralsbreaking through – separates us from Kennedy’s living area. Like she’s an exhibit in a fucking zoo. “I just… I don’t see how we can help her from here.”
How the fuck are we supposed to help her when we’re separated from her?
My eyes latch onto the figure curled up in the corner, on the hard cement floor.
Kenny ignores the bed directly in front of us. Thatthisis her favored position, in the furthest reaches of the white-walled room - as far as she can get from our window, doesn’t escape me. “She’s not comfortable here, Joanne.”
I wonder if Oscar will get through to them today. If the Board will agree with us that she needs more than sterile walls and bright lights. I don’t know how she can fucking survive in there, let alone thrive.
She’s a fuckingomega.She needs to be treated like one.
I press my fingers lightly against the glass. It feels cold beneath my touch.
Not fucking right. Not good enough.
This – every fucking bit of it –hurts. “It’s not warm enough in here. Get her a blanket.”
“She destroys them. You know that—,”
My voice lowers. “Get her a damn blanket.Please.”
It feels as though they’re setting us up to fail, and we’re only a week in. A week of silence, of watching a feral Kennedy through a wall of glass as she curls herself into any small corner she can reach.
She’s hiding from us. While we have to beg people who don’t know her for the smallest scraps to try and bring her back.
This isn’t going to work.
Frowning, I lean in again. Her arms are wrapped around her knees, the simple thin cotton grey top and trousers they dress her in – undersedation– not hiding the black gashes in her skin.
Bite marks.
I can’t bear looking at them. Every single time, realization hits as if it’s the first time. No wonder Theo can barely look at her. Can barely look at himself, his own reflection a reminder of the fucker who did that to our mate.
My stomach turns over. Kenny isn’t the only one we’ll lose if we can’t make this work. “A blanket, Jo. She’s fucking shivering in there. Come on. Work with us here.”
She sighs, leaning forward to press the call button for one of the Center staff. “You know how this is going to go.”
Maybe. But I can’t fucking stand here and watch my mateshivering.
