“There’s my bloom,” Terra coos. “I knew you’d come.”
“Where are Terra’s minions?” I hiss into my comms unit.
“Working on it.” Roman’s voice crackles in my ear.
“Chief,” Clover says. “Are you okay?”
Clover steps forward, and my shoulders tighten. Her posture has changed. This is what she looks like when she embraces her power, her strength. She’s facing the monster of her nightmares without a shred of fear for herself.
The woman who spent fourteen years building a fortress around her heart is standing in the open, completely exposed, to save someone she loves.
I’ve watched her count through panic attacks. Watched her check locks three times before bed. Watched her flinch at unexpected sounds and catalog every exit in every room.
That was how she survived. By controlling her environment, her motions, her connections. Keeping everyone at arm’s length so nothing could hurt her.
But out here, there’s no counting. No walls. No armor.
She’s trusting me to keep her safe.
It’s the most important job I’ve ever been given.
“I’m fine, kiddo. Saw this titwitch in the alley at the hardware store,” Chief sniffs. “Figured it was better she takes me, ya know,unexpectedly, rather than you.”
That damn fool. What he really means is that by allowing himself to be captured, he gave us time to plan and execute a recovery.
“Damn it, Chief.” Clover stomps closer with her hands on her hips. It’s as though I’m tied to her with an invisible string because I drift closer as well. “You should have listened to us. I told you not to take any stupid risks.”
“So demanding.” Terra tsks. Her gaze slides to me. “And you. You’ve grown into such a handsome man. It’s a shame you don’t remember the boy you used to be. But I always knew you’d be a disappointment, just like your father.”
“Don’t talk about him like that,” Clover growls while walking straight to Chief and untying him.
What is Terra’s angle here? I don’t even see a weapon on her.
“I remember enough,” I say. “I remember that you tried to kill me.” That’s not strictly true, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was behind my attack.
“Kill you?” She laughs, the sound brittle and cracked. “I tried to save you. It was her—” She spins in a circle, as though she’s searching for someone, and that’s when I see it. The blood that coats her left thumb as she digs into her cuticle over and over again with her pointer finger. Terra’s losing control. “Vivian poisoned you against me. Against everything I built. We were going to be great, Valen. Unstoppable.”
“You built a prison,” Clover says. “You called it salvation, but it was nothing more than a wicked cage.”
“It was family!” Terra’s composure cracks. Her voice is shrill and unsteady. I’m even more thankful now that we were able toget a bulletproof vest onto Clover. “It was everything I never had. Everything that was stolen from me.”
“No one stole anything?—”
“They all stole from me!” Terra’s mask shatters, and her chin trembles.
Clover takes a step back. This is not the woman who ran ROS. This is someone else, someone…broken.
“My mother married Henry Dennison, and I thought I’d finally have a father. But he never claimed us. Not once. We were the burden. The unwanted ones. He used to tell everyone he only had one perfect daughter—Dahlia. Dahlia was everything while we were nothing. My mother was too weak and too stupid to stand up for us, and then she died, and Henry threw us away.
“Brooks was different.” Terra’s voice goes distant and chilling, as though she’s not really here. “He was kind to me. Protected me. He was my friend first. He was the only one who ever saw me, and I loved him for it. I loved him so much, but then Vivian dragged him on a double date with my slutty excuse for a stepsister, Dahlia. She paraded Dahlia into the picture as though she had every right to be there. But I had him first. He was mine first.” Her voice is downright feral.
Terra blinks rapidly, still digging into her thumb, while her free hand absently reaches for Clover.
I break protocol and move as fast as my legs will carry me to Clover’s side.
“Easy, V,” Roman murmurs in my earpiece.
My hand seeks out Clover’s as bits of a shared past we could have never imagined surface before our eyes.
