It’s such an innocent thing, and it’s easy to forget they were sold just as they were entering adulthood.
“Good plan,” Abbott says, sweeping in to get them to the living room.
As they disappear, my knees buckle, and Ansel catches me, already finished with the dishes. His hands are still slightly damp as they clamp around my waist, but I barely notice it. My mesh tank top will dry.
“Do we really need to go?” I rasp, my voice fucked with unshed tears.
“Yes, baby,” Ansel says, holding me tightly as heat rises behind my eyes. “It’s so goddamned hard to hear their truths. I don’t know how they’re able to just…”
“Live,” Shiloh finishes. “Death isn’t an option, and I don’t think they want it either. The detox was a trial by fire. Once they were through that, I think they decided to live. They’re eating, planning their nest, they’re ready to pick up the pieces, guys. We just have to support them as they do it.”
“Go outside,” Ansel murmurs in my ear as I gasp in a breath. Goddamnit, it’s like I can’t pull enough oxygen into my lungs. “I’ll grab your water bottle. Go.”
Nodding, I step out of his arms, hurrying through the house to step out the front door. I already have shoes on my feet, and there’s nothing keeping me inside, which is helpful with how I’m feeling.
The street is quiet as I stumble down the stairs, collapsing on a step as I sob. My mind races as I think about everything that could have happened to them, because I just don’t know. Bellamy and Winter will tell us things in offhanded comments, but there’s not been another opportunity to ask them questions.
None of us want to push, not when they’re gaining their strength. Ansel is already planning a trip to kill Winter’s aunt, and I’m happy to let him have her. I want Madam Clara, we just have to find her.
Shiloh promised to make a request on the dark web for a local auction yesterday. From there, he can filter through the names of auction owners until we can find her.
“There will be more hard days, baby,” Abbott says, sitting next to me.
“I…know,” I hiccup. “They didn’t deserve any of this. Bellamy wasn’t wearing socks today, he’s finally walking without limping. We can’t keep them cooped in the house, not when they’ve missed out on so much, Abbott.”
“We won’t,” he promises, hugging me tightly. “We need to find out what their dreams are. Do they want to go to college, what do they enjoy doing? Shi isn’t wrong in the need to make a kill list. Maybe it’ll be easier if they don’t have to tell us why they’re putting them on it? I don’t want to stir up bad memories.”
“I don’t either,” I agree. “I have a feeling Clara is responsible for the branding. Whenever Winter and Bellamy have talked about her, they tend to rub the place where the brand is.”
“You’re right,” he says, hugging me. “It feels like my heart is being torn out of my chest whenever they say something offhand. We can’t be the people who bundle them in bubble wrap. That’s not living either.”
The sound of a door locking behind us makes me blow out a breath, swiping at my eyes. Ugh, now I’m going to look all puffy and shit.
“You’re beautiful. No one but us will know,” Abbott reassures me. He knows me so fucking well.
“Sooner we get going, the sooner we get back,” Ansel says, coming down the stairs.
Standing, I force my feet to take me away from my scent matches.
I have to go, so you can have space.I don’t fucking have to like it though.
Chapter
Eleven
BELLAMY
I feelas if I haven’t done something as mundane as take a walk in a decade, even though it’s closer to just a year. My shoes are comfortable, and my feet are mostly healed up from the caning that dead crone gave me. Walking surrounded by my scent matches feels both surreal and normal at the exact same time.
The breeze blows my pale hair into my eyes, reminding me I haven’t had a proper hair cut since Bret’s primping for his clients. Now, it’s messy, and something that makes me look older. The Hug Project didn’t care much for keeping us looking nice, and I can remember the freezing cold showers we’d have intermittently.
Even those didn’t help with the haze of the drugs.
“We’ll hail a cab if you get too tired,” Cassidy reassures me worriedly.
I nod, but refuse to tell her there’s no chance I’ll want that. This city doesn’t feel like anything I’ve ever experienced. Winter and I lived in a small town in Wisconsin, and it didn’t have the history that exists in Savannah.
The roads have huge trees that seem to stretch toward the road, as if wanting to say hello to someone on the other side. Everything is blooming, and my nose is filled with the scent of fresh flowers.
