Untamed (Unbeautiful 2)

I kiss her back fully, cupping the back of her head and pulling her closer.

Suddenly the door creaks open. “I’m coming in in exactly one minute. If anyone needs to get dressed, better make it quick,” Stale calls out, shattering the moment into pieces.

Emery and I spring from the bed and scramble to put on our clothes. By the time Stale walks in, Emery is ruffling her hair into place and I’m doing up my belt.

Stale’s gaze dances back and forth between us before landing on me. “It’s time to go.” He looks at Emery. “You too. There’s a car waiting for you outside that’s going to drive you to the airport.”

Emery sucks her bottom lip between her teeth and stares at me helplessly. I give her hand a squeeze before turning to Stale.

“We want to go together,” I sign to him. The movement of my hands and arms are firm despite how fast my heart is racing.

Stale immediately shakes his head. “It’s too risky for the two of you to go together. It’ll make it easier for someone to identify you or track you down.”

I nervous pop my knuckles, hesitating with what to say next. He could be right. It could be more dangerous if Emery and I go together. Do I want to put her at risk like that?

“I want to go with him,” Emery chimes in. “I don’t care if it’s more risky.” When she looks at me, her confidences sinks along with her shoulders. “Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

“I just don’t want to put you in danger,” I sign, feeling like an asshole. “That’s it, Emery. I want to go with you more than anything. I promise.”

“Then do it.” The plea in her voice rips my heart in two. “I don’t care if it’s more risky. I’ve lived my whole life doing what I thought I was supposed to, following orders, doing what everyone else wanted. For once I just want to live my life how I want it and be with the people I want to.” She crosses her arm, frowning. “But I get it. It’s a big risk. One you shouldn’t have to take.”

I want to take it.

God, do I.

Say to hell with everything

and soar away.

start a life

that I can finally live

without feeling as though I’m half dead.

“No, I want to… I want you… " My unsteady hands move in front of me.

She reaches for me and takes hold of my hands. “Then let’s do this.”

A breath eases from my lips as I bob my head up and down. Then I slip my hands from hers and turn to Stale, who looks madder than hell. “We’re going together.”

He shakes his head. “I can’t allow that. It’s too risky.”

“Then I guess we’ll start over on our own.” I’m not being serious. I know for a fact we can’t start over under these circumstances without help. I just need him to believe that we will if he doesn’t help us.

“Don’t be stupid, Ryler,” Stale stresses. “This is what you’ve always wanted—a new life. It’s the reason you got into this in the first place.”

Emery’s brows furrow, and I realize there’s still so much she doesn’t know about me.

I’ll explain later, I mouth to her.

“I’m just glad there’s going to be a later,” she replies, looking more excited than I’ve ever seen her.

Stale huffs an aggravated breath and folds his arms, staring us down like he’s a parent scolding his children. “You two have got to be kidding me. This is absurd. And we need to go before you don’t have a chance of getting out of here undetected.”

I don’t respond. I simply take Emery’s hand and interlock our fingers. My heart skips a beat when she grips on for dear life.

A minute of silence ticks by before Stale throws his hands in the air. “Fine. Do whatever you want. See if I care.” He storms for the door and jerks it open. At first I think he’s really going to leave and let us do this on our own, but then he shoots us an impatient look. “Are you two coming?”

I suppress a grin as I nod then Emery and I walk to the door. We don’t take anything with us, except the clothes on our backs and each other. It makes me feel weightless and in the strangest way, happy.

As I step over the threshold, I smile to myself because I can almost feel myself entering a new life, the one I’ve always wanted.

I’m finally, finally free.

Chapter 19

I Finally Found My Wings

Eight months later…

Emery

“So, you’re saying you think the reason why I forgot so many things about my life is because of the medication I was on?” I ask my therapist, a middle-aged woman with wild red hair. “That it was a side effect?”

She crosses her arms on top of her cluttered desk. “It could be because of a side effect. Although, if the right person knew a lot about the drug, they might administer it in an attempt to give a person temporary amnesia.”

I sigh heavily. “It’s probably the latter.”

She hesitates, chewing on the end of her pen. “I know you’ve said that you don’t want to tell me who was giving you the drugs all those years, but I want to remind you that you can trust me.” She motions at the closed door. “Everything that gets said in here is strictly confidential, Em.”

She calls me Em and believes my name is Emelia, just like everyone else I meet does. It’s the name I was given eight months ago when I was relocated to Florida under witness protection.

I thrum my fingers on the armrests. I would love to tell her everything, but doing so would be risking my new identity, and right now, it’s not worth the risk.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I finally say.

“All right then.” She sifts through a file on the desk, moving on. “So, how are the hallucinations coming along? Have you had any?”

I shake my head. “Not for quite a few months.”

“That’s good.” She jots something down on a legal pad. “That makes me believe even more that they were stemming from the medication you were on. Although, I do believe that you saw your brother as a coping mechanism over the guilt you felt because of his death.”

I nod, almost agreeing with her this time. In the beginning, I was so caught up in the madness, that it was hard for me to believe the drugs were causing my mind to slip away.

I haven’t seen Ellis since the day I remembered his death, so I’m hoping she’s right. Still, life hasn’t been easy. I do have nightmares at least once a week and my panic attacks can get intense. But that’s part of life. Even Ryler has stuff he’s dealing with, like missing Violet and Luke and sometimes he can sink into a funk. But we’re always there to help each other out.

“What about your anxiety?” she asks.

I shrug. “It comes and goes.”

She scrawls down something else. “Good. You’re doing really well. You’ve made great progress over the last several months.” She sets down the pen and paper. “I’m proud of you.”

I offer her a small smile. “Thanks.” My attention drifts to the clock on the wall. “Oh shit, I’m going to be late.” I spring from the chair and reach for my bag on the floor.

She pushes back from her desk. “Late for what? I thought you didn’t have class today.”

“I don’t.” I walk backward toward the door. “I’m meeting someone, though.”

She smiles as she walks back to the filing cabinet and puts my folder away. “Have fun with Reece. I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

“How do you know I’m meeting Ryl—Reece?” I ask as I turn the doorknob, cringing when I almost call Ryler by his real name.

Sometimes it happens, and it probably doesn’t help that when we’re behind closed doors, we still call each other Emery and Ryler. He’ll always be Ryler to me, the first guy I ever trusted and felt love for.

“Because you only ever smile like that when you’re meeting him.” She shuts the filing cabinet drawer. “Go have fun, Em. You deserve it.”

Throwing a wave over my shoulder, I hurry down the hallway of the University of Florida where my therapy

sessions take place and where I attend school. It’s the end of fall semester, and the hall is buzzing with energy as finals wrap up. Soon, the holidays will be here and everyone will clear out to go home.

Ryler and I have other plans that involve simply cuddling up at home, and I’m okay with that. More than okay, actually. Simple is good. Simple is perfection.

The hot Florida sun glistens down on me as I race across the campus lawn toward the parking lot like a mad woman, ignoring the alarmed stares thrown in my direction. After everything I’ve been through, getting looked at like I’m crazy doesn’t matter as much anymore.

Sure, it gets to me sometimes. It was really hard when my therapist put me on a mood stabilizer, not because I have psychosis, but to help with the trauma I endured.