“Five years next month.”
“You told me you were in the military. What did you do before that?”
She is full of questions that I prefer not to answer usually, but with her, it’s okay. I want her to know.
“I was in a band once.”
“Wow, that’s amazing. You say once, what happened?”
“The usual shit. Manager got greedy. The rest of the band pissed away our fortune on drugs and whores, and we ended up in a blackmail plot to expose us to the press.”
“Yeah, usual shit.”
She shakes her head and giggles and then says with interest. “What was the band called?”
“Hell.”
“What happened after hell froze over?”
“Things were hot for a while, so I enlisted. It didn’t take long to reach the marines, and I told you why I was sent to Ryder.”
“I remember.”
“We got the last laugh, though. The soldier fucked up and after an anonymous tip-off, found himself court martialed and is currently serving ten in the penitentiary. Word is, it’s not going well.”
“You have led a very interesting life, for sure.”
“It’s not over yet, darlin’.”
I wink and stretch out my legs and wonder if she can remember any part of her history at all.
“We don’t have to talk about this, but you told me something at the cabin, something painful, and it may have triggered more memories.”
She shivers; despite the fact that it’s roasting in here.
“I know Gideon abused me. It’s why I don’t want to be alone. The incident after the shower was obviously one of many because it felt so familiar. The tone of his voice, his displeasure, and the subsequent kicking were not one-offs. I suppose that’s why I don’t want to be alone because bad things happen when I sleep.”
I struggle to maintain my cool, even though I want to smash every fucking piece of furniture in this room, picturing Gideon’s fucking head in its place.
She sounds so wretched as she whispers, “Then, there was Angela. She drugged me when I was sleeping. I’m aware I had nightmares, and I guess it was because of the drug she used. When I woke, all I remembered was up to a few days ago. People’s names, faces, and conversations were always a blur. I recognized them but couldn’t place them.”
“But you had the courage to approach Drake. That took a lot of guts, darlin’.”
“Only because I started writing things down. When I read it back, it made everything clearer, and I realized that if I didn’t ask for help, I would be dead soon.”
“So, you put your trust in him. That was a risk. I mean, he was a stranger.”
“He was kind.”
She smiles softly. “It was obvious he hated Angela. One time she was initiating him into her sick group and had something over him. I believe it was his relationship with Imogen. She told him to, well, you don’t need to hear the details, and he had no choice. I wanted to earn his trust and knocked over one of the candles before he could go through with it, and it set my robe on fire.”
“Fuck, darlin’!”
I can’t believe what I’m hearing, and she smiles. “It’s fine. Drake put out the fire, and I merely scaled myself. There was no permanent damage, and it saved him.”
My admiration for this woman only increases the more time I spend with her, and she yawns, her eyes drooping.
“I’m glad I saved Drake, Blade, because in saving him, I ultimately saved myself, and I wouldn’t be here now.”
