We both mouth, “What the fuck?” as we follow him inside, Kai shutting the door behind us.
Outside, the birds chirp, and sunlight sparkles on the mounds of snow, turning it into diamond dust.
And the woods watch, their shadows just as dark, just as deep as ever.
Ready and waiting, if we ever need to hide in them again.
But that day—if it ever comes—is far off.
Through some miracle, the three of us broke again and again, but we never shattered. We’re still capable of love…if you can call this strange and dark thing between us ‘love.’
And now that we’ve found it, now that we’ve found each other, none of us need to hide alone in the woods again.
We can hide together now.
Together, forever.
Chapter 60
Thatcher
THREE WEEKS EARLIER
The first thing I register is water hitting me square in the face.
The second thing is the hand fisting in my hair, arching my head back so far that my neck screams in protest.
The third is the pain—a harsh, throbbing ache at my temple that pulses in time with my heartbeat.
I come awake choking, gasping, flailing against the restraints on my wrists and ankles. Rooke towers over me, an empty water bottle dangling from his fingers.
“Welcome back, Fox.”
Lord, I hate how fucking calm he sounds while I’m clinging onto my sanity.
I blink water out of my eyes and try to make sense of the space I’m in.
Concrete walls.
Exposed pipes running across the ceiling.
A single bare bulb overhead, casting deep shadows in the corners.
My ankles and wrists are zip-tied to a metal chair bolted to the floor. The plastic bites into my skin when I test it—tight enough to limit circulation, loose enough that I won’t lose my hands.
Fuck.
I’m in Rooke’s fucking basement, tied to a chair like some mob informant about to get his kneecaps rearranged.
…don’t beat yourself up, Champ. Everyone knew this would happen…
I ignore the echo of my past and try to speak, but all that comes out is a cough. Good lord, it feels like I swallowed a handful of gravel.
Rooke tosses the empty water bottle aside. “I’d offer you something to drink, but we’re on a bit of a tight schedule.”
He’s in the same clothes as before, but he looks neater. Shaven, hair combed, shoes instead of socks. Like he’s about to set out on a camping trip…which I suppose is exactly what he’s planning.
Once he’s disposed of me, of course.
