Broken Compass

The sofa underneath me is real, and so are the hot bodies surrounding me, holding me, keeping me. Hands pet my shoulders, my back, familiar voices speak over my head, whispering questions and reassurances.

I’m lying on my side, West at my back, Sydney in my arms, our heads resting on Nate’s thigh, his fingers threading through my hair, trailing over my face and my wet cheeks.

Fucking embarrassing, and even worse, the tears won’t stop. I’m too tired to fight it. It may be the first time my head is clear in weeks, or longer, and I hope someone took the plate number of the truck that ran me over, cuz I sure feel like old roadkill. Every bone and inch of flesh hurts.

Or maybe someone went at me with a baseball bat and then their boots?

Hey, wait a minute. Yeah, that rings some bells.

“We almost didn’t get to you.” Syd’s clinging to me as much as I’m clinging to her. “I thought I saw you one or two times around here, but convinced myself I was seeing things.”

“S’right,” West growls behind me, his arms tightening around my middle. “We didn’t believe her. And only saw you by chance last night. If we hadn’t looked your way…”

“But we did.” Nate’s rough fingertips move to the back of my head, massaging, soothing. “We found you. Where were you? When did you return? How did you know to come back here if you couldn’t even recognize us?”

A shiver wracks me. “I dunno.” I was caught for so long in that painful, frightening fog. Way too fucking long. “I walked. A lot. Wandered in the city. There was something familiar about this area. I didn’t want to move away.”

I was so damn confused, any little thing that felt familiar was important. I remember walking around, curling up in back alleys, but coming back to this street.

Always coming back.

“Jesus.” Sydney buries her face in my neck. “I’m so frigging happy you’re here.”

“You walked from where?” West asks, his breath warm on the back of my neck, raising goosebumps.

“I… am not sure. Somewhere out of town.” Another shiver. I thought I was ready to relive it, but now… “A basement. Dark. Too fucking dark.”

Sydney’s hand cups my face, pain flashing in her eyes. “You don’t have to tell us everything today.”

But I need to. Need to purge my soul. “They caught me that night, after we fought with Nate’s dad and his buddies. I was distracted, didn’t notice until they were on top of me.”

“Who’s they?”

“Men sent by my uncle to make me vanish for good.”

“So you are Kasimir Vasiliev,” Nate mutters.

Fuck, right. I’d forgotten I never came clean about my real identity. “That’s me.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” West rumbles. “Black, Weston.”

I bark a laugh, and more tears spill down my face. “Dickhead.” Can this get any more mortifying than it already is?

Dammit.

“Your stalkers,” Sydney whispers. “You noticed them before.”

“Yeah. I managed to evade them for a long time, always running, never staying in one place.”

“But you stayed,” Nate says thoughtfully. “For us. And they got you.”

I open my mouth to say something, but I dunno what to say. It’s the truth. “I don’t regret it,” I whisper, even as the memories from that basement rise up like ghosts to wail at me, suffocate me. “Oh God…”

“Kash.” Sydney lifts her face, kisses my chin, my jaw. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say more, not now.”

“I want to, Red. I have to. It’s…” I draw a shaky breath. “It’s not over. I’ll have to go away. If he finds me again…”

“Kash, no.” She burrows so close to me I feel her every curve. “Please, don’t.”