Today marks three weeks of our freedom. I’ve started to rely more on them, even if it’s for simple things like food and entertainment. Not trusting these people after everything they’ve done for me and my boy feels like I’m letting my past hinder my present, and I can’t let that happen.
August spent the whole day today with Anxo so it’s no wonder he fell asleep ten minutes into the movie he begged us to watch with those large doe eyes. Batting his eyelashes to make us dance to his tune has become August’s superpower now.
How else did he spend the entire day coloring on papers I’m sure were important to Anxo?
Did Anxo ask for the papers back?Nope.
He simply printed more and let monkey draw all the ugly, colorful patterns he wanted. At this point, that office belongs to August, who takes pity on Angel and lets him work there too.
Even Seiji was in and out of the room the whole day with every possible snack he could think of. In the end, my baby burped so loud I swear people on the floor below us heard him.
Surprisingly, August got comfortable with Seiji and Anxo before the girls. Considering our past, I thought it would be the opposite.
With Grace, I’m pretty sure my boy is too busy being tongue-tied to form a connection, and with Hazel, even if it seemed unlikely at first, an innocent friendship has blossomed between them.
Hazel has gone above and beyond to make sure August didn’t just feel comfortable buthappyaround her. The other day, I walked in on the siren trying to teach the little guy what the proper stance for throwing a dagger is.
Thankfully for my heart, she used a wooden dagger to teach him some tricks, but the boy isthreefor fucks sake.
Looking at August, sleeping peacefully with a toy clutched to his chest, I’m eternally grateful to be alive.
To witness him live in a safe space and be a kid.
Tonight, it’s been officially three weeks of me surviving on less than six hours of sleep. Saying I’m exhausted would be not saying enough. I’m trying to act more like my mate and hisfriends, but with each day, it only gets clearer how fucked up I am compared to them.
I can’t fall asleep no matter how much I need it. I can barely stomach food twice a day, and my humor makes them uncomfortable since it contains words like prisoners, blood, starving, and beatings.
Grace says dark humor is how I cope with trauma and thinks there is no need for me to filter my thoughts because soon they’ll get used to my quirks as I would to theirs. If they don’t mind putting up with Seiji and Hazel, then I should be fine.
I swear Angel and Grace are the only sane ones in this group.
One positive thing the past weeks brought me was when Grace slid into bed beside me—still minding a bit of space, and showed me secret videos she took of Papa over the years. If I shed a tear or two, I won’t say. Seeing his face after so long fixed something inside me that I thought was permanently broken.
In some, he was laughing—like a full-blown belly laugh. In others, he was walking around chastising people for bowing to him. Grace captured him mostly when he was in a good mood, but things don’t seem the same to me.
His chin is not raised high enough, and he constantly avoids eye contact with people. His shoulders droop lower than I recall, and his smile didn’t make the corner of his eyes crinkle like they used to. I couldn’t stop the tears when he blew the candle on a small cupcake for his birthday and started tearing up in between laughing.
It was like his facade slipped for just a second, and I didn’t recognize that man at all in that second. Each video helped me get familiar with who he is now, and it only made me hate myself more for not remembering the version of him that was happier.
If Grace saw me crying, she didn’t comment on it. Taking my arm in hers, she distracted me with the story of how Papa toldher that touching a boy who is not your mate can give you a nasty infection. Two years later, a 15-year-old Grace was terrified when Seiji hugged her, and she waitedweeksto get infected before confronting Papa.
The man wasn’t even sorry; just sad that his lie didn’t hold for a few more years.
With everyone in bed and fast asleep, I walk the entire penthouse twice before pacing the length of my room to kill time. I finally plant my ass on the couch nestled in the corner of my room after three hours of doing the same thing.
Accidentally falling asleep only to wake up screaming is not an option now that I share a room with my monkey, so I pick up the storybook Grace reads August most nights and flip through it. I can feel the exhaustion seeping into my bones.
Hold on for a couple more hours until sunrise, Nevaeh.
Maybe I should ask Anxo to keep a watch while I rest, just in case I try to kill everyone in my sleep.
‘Why do you even try to hide, little girl?’
I wake up with a startled gasp. The pressure on my throat feels like a chokehold and it gets hard to breathe. The sound of my wheezing and broken gasps fills the room before I glance over my shoulder and force my limbs to move.
I can’t wake August. If he thinks we’re not safe here because I’m panicking, it will ruin all his progress over the last three weeks.
My legs shake more than I can handle when I try to stand up. Slowly lowering myself to the ground, I blindly crawl to the door until my head bumps into the frame. My hand trembles violently, so it takes two tries to open the door. As soon as the dim light from the hallway pours in, I crawl outside and softly shut the door behind me.
