A girl he’s been writing to. Watching.
I fold the letter carefully and return everything to her bag exactly where I found it, then carry it down the hall. Her door is cracked.
I push it open just enough to step inside.
Reva is sprawled across the bed, half on her stomach, one arm tucked under the pillow, the other curled near her face.
She’s so still. Quiet. Too young for the weight she’s carrying.
The rise and fall of her back is steady. Peaceful. Or as close to peaceful as she probably gets.
I lean against the doorframe and watch her for a moment, trying to reconcile the woman in front of me with the one in those letters, with the one Deacon’s been writing to.
“Little ghost,” I murmur.
The words feel different in my mouth. Heavier. Possessive in a way I don’t like. I prefer my name for her—little wolf. Reva has teeth, cute little sharp ones I think about constantly. I want to feel them, digging into the skin of my shoulder or my chest when I’m making her come.
Because I know that day is coming.
Her brow furrows slightly in her sleep. I push off the frame before I do something stupid, like touch her.
I leave the bag where it belongs, then I walk out of the room.
* * *
“This is absolute bullshit.”
Reva’s voice carries through the house before I even make it to the front hall. It’s sharp, an octave higher than her normal husky alto. Restless. Drawn tight like she’s got nowhere to put the energy burning through her.
I stop just out of sight, listening. Shiloh’s laughing. Ever’s not.
“I’m going back to work,” she’s saying. “You can’t just keep me locked up here.”
“No,” Ever says flatly.
“No,” Shiloh echoes, far too cheerfully.
Ah, hell. She’s going to explode if I don’t do something. I step into the doorway.
She’s pacing a hole in the floor, her feet bare. Hair a mess. Eyes bright with frustration and something deeper underneath.
Need.Not for work. That’s not it, not really. It’s more than that. It’s for movement. For control.
For progress.
“I haven’t even seen anything,” she snaps. “I’ve seen the bar. That fleabag motel. This house. That’s it.”
Her gaze cuts to me.
“And you’re all just fine with that?”
No.I push off the frame.
“Get dressed.”
She blinks. “What?”
“You said you haven’t seen anything.” I hold her gaze. “We’refixing that.”
