“Do you trust me, Iggy?” I don’t realize how big those words are until I say them, and I don’t realize how much his answer means until he whispers it.
“Yes.”
Yes.Just like that… without question. Without hesitation. He trusts me.
Iggy isn’t going to grow up to be me—he isn’t going to grow up to be a monster… because I saved him from that. And even if Donovan will never understand it, it’s one kill I’m never going to regret.
“Then trust me now. I promise he’s never going to hurt you again.” I want to tell him I made sure of it, but instead I squeeze his hand and stand up. “If your aunt will bring you by Helping Hearts one more time before you go… I’ll make you a supply basket.”
Iggy still has tears on his cheeks when he nods. “Okay.” And then in a softer, hushed voice, he whispers. “You promise?”
I blow out a breath and nod. “Yeah, Iggy. I made sure of it.”
The confession makes my pulse race… but on the bed, Iggy lies back as his heartbeat slows. When he wipes his tears with one bandaged hand and smiles at me, I realize that maybe the person Donovan sees when he looks at me is real…
Because Iggy is looking at me like he can see him too.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
DONOVAN
A groan leavesmy lips as I come back into myself slowly and open my eyes. I blink into the dim overhead light, my head pounding like a drum and my ears ringing. The scent of rot and decay meets my nose, and I bite back the wash of bile that sits at the back of my throat threatening to upend my stomach contents all over the hard floor I’m seated on. I’m propped against a thick wooden pole that runs upward, and my hands are bound behind me tight enough that when I try to move them, whatever binds me here bites into my skin, sending sharp ripples of pain cascading through my forearms.
Where the fuck am I?
My head swims with bits and pieces of memories, the prick of a needle and the slam of a car door at the forefront.
I was home.
I’m sure I was at home.
And someone else was there.
But now I’m here, sitting beneath the wooden roof of a building that looms overhead. A warehouse maybe? Or maybe one of the abandoned buildings along the waterfront at the edge of town? I strain my ears to listen for the sounds of water, thesoft lapping of waves against a wooden dock, but I can’t make out anything beyond the ringing in my head.
I inhale, trying to find the ocean, but I can’t smell anything beyond the stench of this place.
I’m absolutely lost here, wherever this is.
And I’m thirsty, which is a ridiculous thing to be thinking about given that I’m tied to a wooden beam in a building I can’t place anywhere in my memory, but I would give anything for a sip of water right now. Swallowing my saliva does nothing to help ease the sudden need for liquid that’s overcome me.
And then a thought hits me that nearly knocks the wind out of my lungs. I scan the darkness looking for other poles and other ropes, other people who could be tied up like I am.
He better not be here.
He better be safe.
“Shiloh?” I call out, my voice harsh and ragged as it echoes in the silence of this place.
I get no answer the first time I call his name, and when I seek him out again, the response is simply the heavy silence of this building. A tiny curl of relief settles into my gut as I realize he’s not trapped here with me, and I’m the tiniest bit ashamed of even considering that Shiloh with all his skills and talents would end up in a space like this, trapped and bound as I am.
Now that that’s sorted, I’m back to trying to figure out where the fuck I actually am.
How I got here.
Who tied me up.
I remember… coming home from practice.
