Before I could answer, something small and orange streaked across his legs. "Tuna!" My voice broke as I entered the house and dropped to my knees.
My cat barreled into me, meowing like I'd been away for years, not months. I scooped him up, burying my face in his soft fur, tears pricking my eyes. He purred so hard his whole body vibrated. "God, I missed you." I breathed.
Behind me, Layla gave a soft laugh, the first genuine sound I'd heard from her in days. Becca even smiled, though it faded quickly, replaced by the darkness that seemed to cling to her no matter where we were.
The house smelled like home….cedar, leather and faint traces of Atlas wrapped around me like a second skin. We all scattered for a while. Joey helped Layla into her room, carrying her bags for her. Jacob trailed behind Becca, offering to carry her stuff. A faint smile crossed her lips as she stepped aside, allowing him to bring her things into the parlor.
Atlas stayed close to me, his hand brushing mine, grounding me. It felt good to be home. Once I was in the bedroom, I put my clothes away. There was plenty of room for all my stuff and more. Atlas and Jacob went into the office to go over some things I had no interest in. I spent a good amount of time cuddling my cat and just sitting in the chair by the window reflecting on how lucky we all were.
There was a light tap on the door, pulling me from my thoughts. Before I could answer, Becca walked in. Her face was pale, her arms crossed over her chest like she was trying to shield herself from some invisible enemy.
I patted the bed beside me. "Have a seat."
She sank down next to me, chewing her lip.
"I'm not sure if I can go home yet, Kit."
Her voice cracked on the words.
"Part of me wants to go back to my place, but I don't know if I can be alone right now."
I reached for her hand. "You don't have to go home. Stay here with me. With us."
Her eyes filled with tears, but they didn't fall.
"You and Layla are stronger than I am, Kit. You're both getting better. I feel stuck. Like I'm still back in Mexico."
My throat tightened. "Beck, don't do that. Don't compare. We all went through hell. We just carry our trauma differently." I squeezed her hand. "You're not weak. You made it out of that house of horrors, and that's all that matters."
I smiled, rubbing her hand.
"It took thick skin to endure what you did, Becca. I know it was horrific, but your strength to even make it through such abuse is unsurpassed."
I cleared my throat. "Your courage is to be admired. Never think any less of yourself."
She let out a shaky laugh, finally wiping at her eyes. "I feel like I'm just dragging you all down. I don't want to always be a fucking Debbie downer walking around making everyone miserable, so maybe it's best for me to go home and just deal with my shit."
I squeezed her hand, firm, but gently. "You're not dragging anyone down. You're my best friend. My sister. I'd rather carry you than lose you." My voice broke then, tears slipping free. "So stay. Please."
Becca looked at me for a long moment before nodding slowly. "Okay. I'll stay for now."
Relief swelled in my chest. I rested against her, Tuna shifting with a meow but not moving away.
"We'll figure this out together, Beck. One day at a time."
For the first time in many weeks, my best friend propped her head on my shoulder. She didn't speak, but there was no need to. Just having her here in my room, in my home—with Tuna purring between us—felt like a piece of our world snapping back into place.
We sat quietly for a while, her head still resting against me, both of us lost in thought. The silence was deafening. I finally broke it. I looked at her, a slight grin curling on my lips.
"So, are we going to talk about Jacob?"
Becca groaned, pulling back to look at me. "God, Kit, don't start." Her voice had a hint of enthusiasm in it, but it was short-lived. I couldn't help but smirk. "I'm serious. He's got it bad for your sexy ass," I laughed. "You notice how he hovers around you? Like you're made of fine china, and if he doesn't hold you together, you'll shatter?"
She rolled her eyes, smirking, but didn't deny it. Her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt. "He's just…kind. Different from what I expected. But…" she stopped, biting her lip hard. "It doesn't matter. I'm not….I can't—"
I reached for her hand again. "Hey, you don't have to explain. I get it. After everything? It makes sense that you're not ready for anything like that with anyone."
Her eyes softened, watery but determined. "It's not that I don't feel something. I do. When he looks at me….I feel it. Like maybe I could trust him. But the idea of letting a man touch me again? I panic just thinking about it."
