“I don’t have anything to be angry about,” I said. I remembered the day I’d come back for her, how pissed I’d been that she would barely look at me. How much I’d hated her in that moment, believing that she’d moved on, not having any idea that it was self-preservation. That hate had been the only thing that had kept me going in the following months, the only way I’d justified what I’d done. At some point, that feeling had faded completely. I hadn’t owned up to what I’d done, but I hadn’t been able to blame Cecilia. Not for any of it.
“I don’t know that I’ll ever forgive you,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean that I stopped loving you. Loving you just is, it always has been.”
I let her words sink in. Our relationship may have imploded years before, our lives going in completely different directions, but in this one way, we were still the same. Loving Cecilia wasn’t a choice for me either, it just was.
Finally, I nodded. “You know, you scared me there for a minute.”
“I scared myself,” she replied, her eyes haunted. “When that guy came into the room, he was looking for Olive.”
My body tensed until even my toes pressed hard against the floor.
“He kept asking where she was,” she said, her arms tightening around the baby. “I guess he hadn’t seen her on the bed because of the blankets.”
“That was smart,” I said, my voice gravelly. I cleared my throat. “I saw the way you’d put the blankets over her.”
“I knew if I yelled for help, I’d wake her up,” she said softly. “So, I didn’t.” Her eyes met mine. “I didn’t make a sound.”
I closed my eyes in understanding and disgust, imagining the beating she’d taken before I’d gotten to her. It had to have been nearly impossible to stay silent. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do the same thing.
“When it was over—” She shook her head. “It was like I couldn’t force myself to speak. The words were there, but—”
“Understandable,” I said roughly. “If I’d known all it took to get you talking was needing to set the record straight about our past—I would’ve brought it up in the car, even with your mom there.”
Her lips tipped up at the corners at my joke. “I think it was the lost puppy expression on your face that did it.”
“Liar,” I teased. “You just couldn’t resist the urge to argue with my version of the story.”
She shot me a tired smile. “It still feels like they’re everywhere,” she confessed, looking at the window. “Like Drake’s just waiting for the right moment.”
“No one knows we’re here,” I replied. “We’ve been super fucking careful, okay? I swear to God, Cec, we’ll end this. You and Olive are safe.”
“I don’t think anyone is ever safe,” she mused with a sigh. “Look at me—I moved a thousand miles away from the chaos, and still ended up right in the middle of it again. I’m so fucking tired, Woody.”
The nickname hit me with the force of a sledgehammer.
“Then rest, baby,” I said gently, reaching out to run my thumb over the soft skin of her cheek. “I’ll be right here, keeping the monsters away.”
Chapter 17
Cecilia
Even though I believed that no one knew where we were, my paranoia that we were being watched never faded. It didn’t matter whether I was inside the crowded house or sitting on the deserted beach, that feeling never left. I had trouble sleeping at night, and usually had to rest during the day in order to function. I lost more weight, even though I tried to make a conscious effort to eat. Basically, I was a mess, which only added to the guilt I felt every day we were at the beach house.
I knew everyone wanted action. They wanted to end the threat to me and Olive so they could get on with their lives. Instead, we holed up in the beach house for almost two weeks in an attempt to give me some time to recuperate and get my footing again. It didn’t seem to be working, though. I was still as exhausted, anxious, and depressed as I’d been when we arrived, the only difference is I’d found my voice again.
“Family meeting,” Eli called cheerfully from the back door, interrupting my hour of staring at nothing. “We’ve got news.”
“I’ll be right in.” I brushed the sand off my legs and heaved myself to my feet. Even while the rest of my body seemed to be consistently weary, thankfully, I was healing from Olive’s birth. My clogged duct had cleared out and my vagina no longer felt like a war zone, which, I had to be honest, was a huge relief. You always imagine that things are going to be wonky for a while after pushing a human out of there, but until you’re in the midst of it, you don’t realize just how tore up you’ll be. I liked that part of my anatomy, and at some point, I was going to want to use it again.