“Then I’d probably be dead by now because I don’t have the answer they’re looking for.”
The matter-of-fact way she said it nearly brought me to my knees. This was her reality. It had been for too long. Living with the knowledge that any day, any moment, could be her last.
I would do anything to keep her safe. Anything.
“Why would they slash the pillows? You wouldn’t hide artwork there.”
“I assume they must think my father had a safe or a secure location with a key or something.” She shook her head as she studied the devastation. “I went through all his things, but I don’t remember anything that might point to where he could’ve hidden something. We weren’t close, however. Over the years prior to his death, he pushed me away, and now I know why.”
“He may have been try-try-trying to protect you.”
She shrugged and started picking up clothing, shaking each item out and carefully folding it, laying it on the bed. Most were wrinkled but intact, though a few shirts had been cut in the searchers’ frenzy.
“I can replace these,” she said, holding up a ruined top.
“You shouldn’t have to,” I growled.
She gave me a lopsided smile. “It’s clothes, Hail. I’m alive. That’s what matters.”
I helped her collect her things, though I wasn’t as good at folding as she was. I also placed all the torn items in the trash, grumbling about the pillow stuffing covering half the floor. I didn’t care about the pillows, of course. Only Allie. But I kept seeing her lying on the floor instead.
She checked each item carefully before deciding whether to keep it, even adding a few items with tears to the pile, rather than the trash. This wasn’t the first time she’d had to pack after a search. The practiced way she sorted through her belongings told a story I didn’t want to hear.
“Do you have things in the bathroom?” I asked when we’d finished placing her clothes into her damaged suitcase and collected everything else off the floor.
“I was using the free toiletries from the hotel.” She looked around the destroyed room one more time. “I’ve learned to travel light.”
I stared at the single small suitcase, the worn purse, the battered laptop bag. That was it, all my mate owned in the world.
The realization hit me like a sledgehammer to the chest. She had almost nothing. Only the bare essentials needed to survive on the run.
“Allie.” My voice came out strangled. “Do you have more things in the car Greel can bring to us?”
She followed my gaze to her meager possessions and shrugged. “Already emptied it out. I try to keep everything I own with me, just in case. Sentimental items can slow you down, make you hesitate when you need to move fast. I’ve had to leave a few times with nothing but my purse, keys, and what cash I always keep with me.” Sitting on the bed, she opened her purse and gently removed a tattered photograph. “This is Mom. She died giving birth to me, and I only have this one picture of her.”
I sat beside her and studied the face. Allie looked like her, from the shape of her eyes to the color of her hair. They had the same sweet smile.
“I’m sorry she died.” My words felt paltry compared to her loss. I wasn’t very close to my parents, but I knew they loved me.
“I wish I could’ve met her.”
I put my arm around her and tugged her close, resting my chin on the top of her head. And I held her, giving her the only things I had to offer: my arms, my protection, my comfort.
Leaning back, I held her shoulders, meeting her eyes. “Do you have other things from your old life hidden somewhere?”
Her smile was heartbreaking in its emptiness. “There is no old life. There’s just survival.”
My mate, who should have been treasured and protected, had been reduced to nothing more than a photo, the clothes on her back, and a desperate need to stay alive.
I thought about my own house, filled with pottery I’d made, books I’d collected, little treasures my brothers had given me. My workshop was full of tools I’d brought with me from the orc kingdom. An accumulation of memories and meanings.
Allie had almost none. They’d taken everything from her except her life, and they were still hunting for that.
“We’ll get you new things,” I said. “Whatever you need, whatever you want. You’ll have a real-real home again.”
“Hail—”
“Please, I wa-wa-want to help. You deserve to have things that ma-ma-matter to you. Things that make you happy.”
