Pan's Salvation (Dueling Devils 5)

Lark smiled. They’d grown closer since the birthday party. She’d checked up on her at her apartment, delivering much needed doses of estrogen to what Chase referred to as a sausage fest.

“Thank you,” Lark said.

“Fuck what Pan said. You’re family and nothing can change that.”

The words soothed the sting.

The days dragged on. She continued to live in Pan’s house, clinging to the memories made there to keep her going as she went through the motions of living, even though everything was on hold. She had no clue how he’d take to rehab, or how his feelings would change. Essentially, he could come out an entirely different person. There was no telling what that would mean for them. It was the right thing to do. She’d never regret her decision. If he came out on his way to being healthy and whole, it would be worth going their separate ways if necessary. As much as the thought ripped her to shreds.

The hardest part about rehabilitation, other than the detox and delving into his painful past, was not being able to talk to his little bird. He couldn’t even remember what he’d said to her when they hauled him out, but the look of horror and hurt was seared onto the back of his eyelids. Every time he thought of giving up the struggle for wellness, he remembered that and his brother. They both deserved more from him than he’d been giving. Even more though, he wanted to know himself. Who he truly was behind the mask of humor and light-heartedness.

He’d been lying to himself and everyone else for so long, he’d gotten lost. Each day, he worked through his issues he caught a glimpse of the stranger and regained a piece of his shattered soul. In the end, the mirror he put back together would be cracked, warped and never anything handsome. But it would be an entire reflection. He would be a man who could function.

At thirty days sober, he didn’t miss the alcohol, or the escape it provided. He had coping skills and a conscience that was becoming clearer and clearer. To crucify himself daily for something he did when he was so young in an impossible situation was insanity. He understood that now. He’d passed up the opportunity to see or talk to anyone other than Demon. He wanted to continue his treatment in radio silence. This time was for him.

At sixty days, he took to writing weekly letters. He’d never been a man of many words.

Sharing his emotions verbally didn’t come easy. But he c

ould write, so he did. It was all about expressing himself and allowing the people who meant the most to see it, at least that’s what the doc told him. He wouldn’t go as far to say he enjoyed his time with the headshrinker, but the man helped. The first letter he received back from Lark had made his heart sing.

Hartley,

I can’t express how much your letter meant to me. Thank you for including me in your healing process. I won’t lie and say the words you spoke to me were forgotten. We both know that’s not how these things work. But I will say they were forgiven, nearly the moment they left your lips. I understand addiction and hurt. Perhaps that’s why we we’re such a good pair. I know you’re worried about the changes, but people are changing every day, the key is to grow together. I believe we’re both doing that. We entered this relationship with enough baggage to fill a cargo ship. Now, slowly but surely, we’re trading it in and becoming the people we never knew we could be.

When I said I would never leave you, I meant that. My place is with you now. That means for better or worse. In my mind, we’ve all but said the vows. I’m in our home, making it a little more mine every day, the way you suggested months ago. I miss you. Going to sleep without you and waking up to find your side of the bed cold is difficult. Yet, it’s nothing in comparison to the pride I feel. You’re taking back your life. I admire you for that. I am counting down the days until we can be together again. We’ll be better, stronger and so much happier for this.

Forever your little bird,

Lark

He’d re-read the letter so many times he knew it by memory. Better, Stronger and happier.

That was his end game.

Day 90…

This was the most important graduation day he’d ever have. He’d made it through

rehabilitation, attended every class required, let the shrink pick his brain. He’d painted, did yoga and walked outside to commune with nature. It sounded like some pussy shit, but damn did he feel good. Now, he was waiting for the people who meant the most, Monster and Lark were coming to pick him up.

“Hartley, your family is here.” The pretty brunette nurse gave him a bright smile.

Family, I like the sound of that.

Pan stood and grabbed his duffle bag. “Thanks, Sandra.” He followed her out of his room and down the hall to the waiting area.

His woman was a vision in a red dress that hugged her curves and stopped above her knee.

The rounded neckline showed off her generous breasts and brought out the matching red streaks in her hair. She’d put the weight she lost back on and had a smile that would light the darkest night.

His heart raced and he melted internally. He held out his arms and she ran to him. He lifted her off the ground and she kicked her legs giggling. His little bird knew where her home was. No matter where she flew, she would always come back. He buried his face against her neck

inhaling her womanly scent. “I fucking missed you, babe.” He whispered.

“I missed you too.” She pulled back, took his face between her hands and showered his face with kisses. “Monster and I drove separately. I wanted to let you talk to him first, since I’ll be taking you home.”

“Thank you, little bird.”