Chapter Twenty-seven
Rowan
I’m awakened by a slight knocking on the locked bedroom door. Sitting up confused and sleep-hazed, I grab the robe hanging on the bathroom door, covering myself with it, while tiptoeing to the knocking, silently removing the chair I had forced under the nob. Creaking it open, my eyes widen when I see Clover standing so small in the flickering LED lanterns they have displayed as hallway lights.
“Clover,” I sleepily whisper to her.
Meekly, she says, “Hi.” God, she looks so sad.
I open the door the rest of the way, allowing her to enter. Closing it, I turn around and startle when Clover is right behind me. “Sorry,” I tell her as I watch her jump.
“Are you okay?” It’s a stupid fucking question, but my sleep-riddled mind can’t come up with anything else.
In an instant, she throws herself at me, and I catch her, wrapping my arms around her as she melts into mine, crying.
Leaning my head on her, I’m surrounded by the scent of roses. “Shh,” I try to soothe her.
We stand there for minutes, her sobbing, body shaking, crying. I rub her back, whispering down to her. She’s so much smaller than me; she’s tiny. So fragile. Figuratively and literally.
“Hey, come. Let’s sit down.” I pull away from her, and her arms stay around me as I guide us to the bed.
Once I finally have her sit down, I look at her. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to; we can just sit here in the quiet.” I shrug my shoulders, letting her know either one she picks is okay with me.
The way she looks up at me breaks my heart. All I see is pain.
I try to keep my face nonreactive, but it’s hard.
Clover picks at the bedspread. “I tried to kill myself.” She says it like it’s not a big deal.
“I know.”
Her blue eyes look at me. “I wanted to succeed so badly. I’m angry that I didn’t.”
“I’m glad you didn’t.” I hope she knows my words are so very true.
“Sometimes the pain is just too much, you know. And he treats me like I’m so fucking breakable.” Hearing her cuss doesn’t sound right, not from the small body it comes from.
“I have one of those, too. But,” I pause, “I think he’s coming around to that. If anything, we’re made of fucking steel, impenetrable. And these men are too damn bullheaded to realize that.” Because occupying this room are two survivors.
Clover nods her head in agreement.
“My goal after the tomb was to die. But I decided I needed to take them out first, then do it…but then I met Luca. He was not planned. He’s walked with me in my darkness. Guided me with his own light, even if he doesn’t know that.” I smile at myself, realizing how far I’ve come because of this man who loves me.
“It won’t lighten, no matter what I do, Rowan. The nightmares are constant, my fear is roaring every day, and my worth has diminished. I want to be the girl I was before all this. The girl Matteo fell in love with, not this broken shell of who she is now.”
Grabbing her hand, holding it in mine. “Clover, I can promise you, Matteo loves every version of you. The healed andthe broken.” I know that with every fiber in me. Seeing him talk about her, being around her, he is in love.
She looks at me, tears running down her cheeks. “I don’t know how to stop the thoughts. How did you?”
“They’re still there; some days they’re louder than most, but they’ve become quieter.” I think when David is gone, they’ll become mute, but I don’t mention that to her.
I sit up straighter. “I can tell you how.” I look at her, and her eyes are pleading with me to fix her. I can’t fix her, but maybe this will. “An eye for an eye.”
Her eyes widen, shocked. She shakes her head.
“We all got those who hurt us, but you.”
I see her eyes roaming the room, thinking, when it hits her. “She’s my sister,” comes out in a tiny whisper.
