Someone.
I spent a decade behind bars, but I’ve never wanted to do physical harm to another person the way I do when I think about someone harming this woman. I want to destroy them. I slam back a large gulp of the rich coffee and let the bitterness trickle down my throat. I focus on that, instead of the murderous impulses that unnerve the hell out of me.
Loreena’s sharp inhale tells me that more of my emotions are showing than I want, including the thoughts that probably just passed across my features in all their horrifying brutality.
She darts away, snatches up her coffee, and shifts to the kitchen doorway. “I understand that you want to help, but if you truly don’t want to accept no, and you still want to be friends in some capacity, then please do some research before we talk about this again. If you find something that I haven’t tried, I’d be open to it, I truly would.” She stares at the door, a direct indication that she’d like me to go now. “I appreciate your concern.”
I gulp the rest of the coffee and set the cup in the sink. I have to brush past her to get to the door. She doesn’t freeze up at having me so close. If anything, a faint blush creeps into her cheeks.
“If I found something… you’d honestly try it?”
The flush fades, her skin pales, and her eyes get flinty. “Within reason.”
I have to fight against all the urges inside of me that tell me to grab her, take her out of this place, and fight for her. I know that one person can’t fix another, but I also don’t know if that’s completely true. One person can help.I can help. Iwill.
I know how cold and degrading years of oppressive loneliness can be. I know how it erodes you down to nothing, until you could just vanish.
I won’t let that happen to Loreena.
Even if we hadn’t exchanged a single letter and we had met somehow, I think that some part of me would have been drawn inexplicably to this woman. It would have been more than just her beauty. The call of who she is at heart would have wrapped around mine like ivy, twisting and growing all along the bricks of my foundation until they undermined my resolution. But we do know each other. I have no resolution except my iron will to break her free of this life that she’s living.
I open the door and step out into the hallway. I’m afraid that she’s going to follow through on what she said. That she’ll never answer her door, my texts, my calls, or my letters again. I don’t want to be cut out of her life. I don’t want to lose her.
It’s no understatement to say that it would half kill me.
“I’ll see you,” I say casually, but there’s no hiding my conviction.
“Yeah.” She’s unsure. Confused. She doesn’t really believe that I won’t abandon her.
She closes the door and I’m relieved to hear her locking it up behind me. This building’s security is shit. It’s old and even I know that it’s not in what’s considered the good part of Seattle.
By the time I reach my beat up truck parked in one of the visitor stalls in the back parking lot, I’ve already determined that not only will I not abandon Loreena, I’m going to break her out of her own prison. I’ll never take one single free breath for granted again, and I’m determined that she won’t either. I don’tknow how I’m going to free her yet. I only know that I’ll doanythingto make it happen.
Chapter 5
Loreena
Ishut off the podcast I was trying to focus on, set my phone on the nightstand, and turn out the lamp.
It’s been four days since Maverick was here and since he was gone. I’ve never had any amount of time pass so slowly. I feel like I’ve lived four separate lifetimes.
I haven’t texted him. Haven’t called. I’ve picked up my pen a thousand times to sit down and write to him, but I don’t have his exact address. After that, I tried putting a text together, but all I did was type and delete. Type and delete.
It just feels so horribly hollow and so achingly wrong that I tried to push him away and might have succeeded. He seemed so adamant that he wanted to help, but he could have changed his mind. He could have decided that I’m not worth the effort, or that a person so silly that they can’t even step outside without freaking the fuck out and shutting down completely, isn’t a person worth knowing.
My family pushed endless therapists, doctors, and self-help materials my way, but when they’d judged a sufficient amount of time to have passed after the trauma, they stopped. My mom told me plainly that if I couldn’t help myself, then they couldn’t either. I knew she was right. I don’t blame her. She wasn’t being cruel. She just didn’t know how to deal with a daughter who’d transformed overnight into a different person completely. It was traumatic for them too.
I don’t want to give up hope. I want to believe that one day, all of this will end, and I’ll be able to find my way not just back to my family, but to the person I was before. Have I changed irrevocably?
The sad thoughts fill my head, the memories echoing through the gaping hole in my chest that won’t heal no matter how much time passes, or how much effort I put in.
After my shoulder gets sore from being on my side for so long, I flip over and stare at the ceiling. I leave the blinds slightly open. I like the play of lights and shadows. It doesn’t feel ominous or threatening to me. It’s a connection, however small, to the people outthere.
I’ll survive it if Maverick doesn’t come back.
Yeah. Fucking. Right. I feel half dead just thinking about it. Like last night, and the night before, and the night before that, I know I’m not going to get much sleep.
I’m wide awake when I hear a click sound through the apartment. A rasp and a rattle, and one more softer click.
