“How do you know her last name?” Bellamy asks.
“Research,” Shiloh grunts. “I have bits and pieces of information that I’ve been able to find, and I found out where you previously lived by finding high school photos. Facial recognition goes a long way, and you haven’t changed very much. Your previous high school records had a lot of very important information to help me find Matilda.”
“Stalker,” I sniff, amused despite my tears.
“You have no idea, Winter,” Abbot murmurs. “Shi is dangerous behind a keyboard. Is it an invasion of privacy? Yes.”
“Does he care? Not at all,” Cassidy says, hiding a smile.
“Careful, baby,” he says to her, smirking. “I care, but I also don’t want to be surprised by something we need to know.”
I find myself touching my neck subconsciously, remembering Bret’s fucked up parting gift from when we were with him.
“Does something hurt?” Abbott asks.
They’re so observant. I’m going to have to get used to that I guess.
“No,” I say, forcing myself to drop my hand.
I don’t know how long the injections Bret gave Bellamy and I will keep us from having heats. I also don’t understand the mechanics of the birth control. How long will it last?
I have so many questions, and very few answers about my own body. It feels so fucking wrong.
Should I mention it? Bellamy’s lips brush my neck, and I relax slightly. He’s telling me to wait, so I will. I trust him more than anyone else, and he has protected me to the best of his ability.
He’s the same age as I am, and we’ve had a lot of firsts together. Looking around the room, we are definitely the youngest of the group.
“My aunt lasted a month before she was tired of having us in her house,” I say, trying to keep my mind off some of the things that have been done to me against my will. “She was very excited to find out that both Bell and I were omegas, as we presented three weeks into living with her.”
“Madam Clara paid her a lot of money to take us off her hands, money Aunt Matilda thought she needed,” Bellamy grunts. “She spent a lot of our parents’ money, blaming it on the upkeep of taking care of us. It was all bullshit.”
“Madam Clara,” Shiloh reports. “You’re going to make me a nice long list, aren’t you?”
Thinking about everyone who’s hurt us, I shrug. “Some of them are already dead,” I admit tonelessly.
The tears are gone, and I find myself beginning to disassociate to keep myself from crumbling.
“Winter,” Cassidy says gently.
“It’s fine,” I mutter. “I’m not upset they’re dead, I’m angry it wasn’t enough.”
Neither Bellamy or I feel much like talking after that.
“I think you need a tour of the house,” Abbott says, surprising me. “You can’t sleep on the couch forever.”
We can’t?Bellamy and I haven’t slept in a proper bedroom since our parents died. Aunt Matilda sold our parents’ house, and she gave us a closet floor in her home to sleep in. The woman didn’t have a good bone in her body, and was disgusted at how close Bell and I were.
“You’re siblings. Stop touching each other!”
I flinch at the memory, almost as if she were in front of me. God, some nightmares find a way to slide through the veil to torture you in broad daylight. Isn’t that fun?
“Come see?” Cassidy suggests. “You can decorate however you want. Make it yours.”
Cautiously, I take Bellamy’s hand and follow Cassidy. While Bellamy limps slightly, he reassures me through the bond that his feet are better. The woman who ran The Hug Project was cruel, and treated us both as if we were disposable.
Cassidy shows us the downstairs area, as well as the basement, which she says houses the home gym. My nose wrinkles at the idea. I’ve never been one to enjoy physical activity. I love to read, where the heaviest thing I’m lifting is a page.
“More upstairs,” she murmurs, heading toward the stairs tucked in the middle of the house. The house is split by the stairs in fact, something I’ve never seen before.
