That my past is poisoning my present.
"The club doesn't blame you," Tildie continues, softer now. "Nobody blames you. They're angry, yeah—but they're angry at him. At what he did. At what he's threatening to do. You're one of us, Vanna. And we protect our own."
"One of us," I repeat quietly.
"One of us." She squeezes my hand. "Now stop moping and help me pick out crib bedding. I found this adorable set with little elephants, and I need a second opinion."
I laugh despite myself.
It's weak, watery, but it's real.
One of us.
Maybe someday I'll believe it.
That night, I lie in bed with Garrett's arms around me, his hand resting on my stomach where the baby has finally stopped kicking for the night.
"Are you awake?" I whisper.
"Yeah."
"Do you think he'll come for me? Virgil?"
Garrett is quiet for a long moment.
When he speaks, his voice is flat. Certain. "He'll try. But he won't succeed."
"How do you know?"
"Because I won't let him." He pulls me closer, his lips brushing my temple. "Because this club won't let him. Because there's not a force on this earth strong enough to take you from me."
I want to believe him.
I want to trust in his strength, in the club's protection, in the love that's supposed to conquer all.
But I've seen what Virgil is capable of.
I've felt his hands on my throat, his fingers between my legs.
I know the darkness that lives inside him.
And I know that sometimes, love isn't enough.
"I'm scared," I admit.
"I know. Me too." He takes a breath. "But we're not running. We're not hiding. We're going to face this together, and we're going to win. Because the alternative isn't an option."
The baby kicks once, like a punctuation mark.
Like its own agreement.
I close my eyes and try to let Garrett's heartbeat lull me to sleep.
Try to trust that tomorrow will be better. That this nightmare will end.
But when I finally drift off, my dreams are full of shadows.
Of photos with timestamps.
