My whole body tenses when I feel the buzzing in my pocket from my phone. We’ve been here at the hospital for a few hours, waiting for x-rays and CAT scans and all that, but the whole time, I’ve been waiting for a phone call. Confirmation that my father is no longer going to be an issue.
Which is why ice forms in my veins when I get the news. “He was gone when we got there.” Paul mutters some choice profanities under his breath while I close my eyes and fight for air. I should have ended him. The fucking coward. Running from the consequences of his actions yet again.
“He can’t have gotten far,” I decide, though I don’t believe myself. Not really. It’s what I need to force myself to believe. “I kicked the shit out of him. He might be dead right now if Wren hadn’t stopped me.”
“Trust me when I tell you he will be found. There are a lot of bodies out there hunting for him. It won’t be long.”
I want to believe that. I have to.
One thing is for sure, in the middle of so much uncertainty: I’m not leaving Wren alone. She won’t go through this by herself. It means I have to keep Tia occupied—walks up and down the hall, a couple of visits to the cafeteria, full control over the TV. Finally, by the time the sky is fully dark, she’s fast asleep on the pullout sofa in the corner.
That leaves Wren and me on our own, sort of. We don’t have to speak in code when she’s asleep. I’m in a recliner next to the bed, facing the TV like Wren is,watching an old comedy but not paying attention to a word of it. Remembering the satisfaction of hurting him. Remembering every drop of blood I spilled.
“What’s going to happen now?” she whispers, turning her face toward me while I do the same so I can look at her. She is still so beautiful under all that bruising.
“What do you mean?” Reaching out, I close a hand over hers, careful not to mess with the IV tubes pumping her full of saline and pain meds.
“What happens now? We know who was threatening me. I guess I should move back to the dorm? Although…” Her voice trails off like she’s unsure of herself or doesn’t want to say what’s on her mind.
“Not until they find him.” And even then, I don’t know if I’d be able to let her out of my sight for too long. I don’t ever want to feel what I felt when I reached that basement and saw what he was doing to her, what he could easily do because I wasn’t there to stop him. That sort of soul-crushing, nauseating helplessness and guilt.
“But he could come back to the house, right?” There’s panic at the edge of her words and all I want is to take it all away.
“I already called a locksmith earlier, when Tia was having her dinner,” I explain. “Dad won’t be able to get back in the house because his key won’t work. I’m also having a security system installed. We’ll know if he decides to come back.”
Stroking her fingers, I add, “I doubt he will. Because I think he knows next time, I won’t stop until his breathing stops.”
“Then I really hope he never comes back, because I don’t want to see you put yourself in that position.” Even now, she’s worried about me. She has every right to want him dead and buried, but she cares more about what it would do to me.
“I’ll be just fine,” I tell her with a grin. It seems to help a little. There’s not so much concern written across her creased forehead. “Don’t worry about me.”
“I am worried about you.” Her voice shakes a little, but she pushes through. “What is happening now? With us? I’m worried about you. I’m worried you’re going to change your mind on me all of a sudden. I don’t know how to feel or what to think or anything. What are we doing?”
That’s not so easy to answer, but I guess she knows that. She doesn’t look away, like she’s silently forcing me to answer.
I knew this had to be coming eventually. Of course, she would want to know. I wish I knew what to say. “Can I get back to you later?”
She snickers softly, but never breaks eye contact. “Seriously. We went from you hurting me and torturing me to whatever this is. What is this?”
I have to choose my words carefully. Not only because I don’t want to hurt her. She deserves honesty after everything she’s been through—because of me and other people. “Right. I went from hating you to… I’m not sure,” I admit. “I don’t know what to call it. I know I want to protect you. I know I would’ve killed that bastard today if you hadn’t stopped me. And I did stop, and not just for Tia, but for you. I didn’t want you to see it happen. You’ve already seen too much. I’m so sorry it went that far, and I’m not just sorry for what my father did. I’m sorry for what I did to you, how I treated you and what I made you do. I was punishing you for something that wasn’t your fault and I’m so sorry for that.”
“Well, thank you for that.”
But it’s not enough. I can tell. She sounds disappointed. “All I’m asking is that you trust me now. I can’t promise I’ll be able to give you everything you want or need, but I swear I will never hurt you again and I’ll do anything I can to keep you safe, no matter what happens between us in the future.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means… if you’re looking for love, I don’t know if I have any to give. Not just to you. It’s not easy for me. But I can tell you one thing for sure. I’m not letting you go,” I warn as my grip tightens around her hand. “You’re stuck with me from now on.”
Weeks ago, she would have made a smartass comment or at least scoffed at my choice of words.
Not now. Now, she smiles.
Epilogue
Wren
Two Months Later
