“Oh my God, Daya,” I croak, once more overcome with disbelief.
“Let’s get you up, baby,” Zade urges. “It’s cold, and the place is still swarming with people looking for you.”
I sniff, wipe my nose, and nod. He boosts me up, and Daya grabs onto my hands, helping me out of the trailer. When I climb out, she immediately embraces me in a hug; her hold is nearly as tight as Zade’s.
“Don’t you ever leave me again,” she cries, voice shaky and tight. I nod, on the verge of breaking down all over again.
But then a woman screeches from behind us, erupting in jumbled words that sound a lot like oh my God, you found her, she must be freezing. Or something like that.
Daya and I pull apart to watch a red-headed woman and another man I don’t recognize rush toward us. A moment later, Zade jumps up, dangling onto the hatch and lifting himself up with ease.
“You found her!” the woman shouts again.
“Jesus, Ruby, don’t announce it to the world. There are still people around searching for her,” Zade snaps.
She waves a hand, unconcerned. “You’ll get ’em.”
And he will. On the ground are two dead bodies, bleeding from what looks like their chests.
“How did you…?”
“Literally took two steps to the side and shot them both through the chest with one damn bullet,” Daya answers for him, glancing at me with a look that says, he’s fucking crazy but also kind of cool.
Approaching the trailer, Ruby pinches her hands, indicating for me to climb down to her. “Come on, honey. I’ll get you warmed up.”
I just stare at her, my brain submerged in a pool of gelatin, slow to process what’s happening. After Daya softly nudges me, I shakily descend the ladder, my feet nearly slipping on the rungs. The woman, who must be Ruby, wraps an arm around me the moment my feet hit the dirt.
“You’re safe now, honey,” she croons, rubbing my bicep to warm me up as she walks me along the abandoned train.
I glance over my shoulder and spot Zade a few feet behind; his eyes laser-focused on me as if he’s convinced I’ll disappear if he looks away for even a second.
I’m safe now. Yet it still feels like I’m in Hell.
PART II
Chapter 23
The Hunter
“No good news?” I ask, crossing my arms across my chest.
Jay’s lips tighten, and he shakes his head. Francesca and Rocco Bellucci were nowhere to be found when my men arrived at their house. In fact, the entire house was vacant, except for a dead man in the living room with his throat slit open, and a couple men piled outside of the porch steps. Which means Rio and Rick fled, too. I suspect they all left the moment they found Addie missing, high-tailing it out of there before I could get to them.
The worms are slippery, but they won’t be able to hide from me for long.
“How is Addie doing?” Jay asks, concern etched into the lines of his face. He glances over my shoulder as if he can see her from the front door.
It’s the first time he’s been in Parsons Manor, and his body language suggests he’s ready to get the fuck out. He took one step in, and the front door shut on its own behind him. Since Addie’s been home, the activity has increased. Her energy has been dark, and the manor never had any warmth to begin with.
I wanted to take her back to my place, but Addie refused-stating she’s been holed up in one prison for long enough and doesn’t want to find herself in another. So I stationed heavy security around the property, using advanced-and illegal-technology to ensure nothing gets by without my knowledge. Whatever Claire has up her sleeve next, she knows there’s no chance of touching Parsons.
After I found her, I took her straight to trusted old friends of mine, Teddy Angler, and his son, Tanner. Teddy is a retired surgeon but has been working for
Z since I built the organization, taking in any survivors that need care. His son is a nurse, and often assists Teddy now that he’s getting older.
We stayed with him for a week so he could treat the lacerations all over her body, the open wound on the back of her neck, and pump her with fluids. She was dehydrated, malnourished, and ravaged by the abuse.
I refused to turn away from what was done to her, though all I wanted to do was walk right back out of his door and shred anyone who inhabited that house with my bare fucking teeth.
I’m not sure if she even recalls much of her time with Teddy. She was catatonic the entire stay.
It’s been a month since she’s been home, and in the beginning, we were swarmed with police officers and media outlets. Law enforcement were requesting her statement, and wanted information on her kidnapping. And of course, because Addie’s a popular author, it got media attention. I’m not ashamed that I’ve lost count on how many paparazzi I’ve threatened bodily harm to due to them trying to sneak onto the property.
I would’ve loved to make a fucking example of one of them. String them up at the end of the driveway as a friendly reminder of what will happen if even their toe touches the goddamn property line.
The chaos has died down, but it sent Addie further into herself, and she’s been confined to her bedroom and cocooned under her black silk sheets as if she’s allergic to the outside air. For the first couple weeks after her rescue, she would hardly speak at all.
Addie often flipped between complete desolation, where she stared blankly and gave no reaction, to crying and inconsolable. I’ve had a therapist, Dr. Maybell, come in to talk to her a few times to help draw her out, and it has helped.
Seeing her like this breaks my fucking heart, and all I want is to hand her the pieces and give her something to hold on to.
But she won’t hold on to anything. Won’t even let me come near. If I get within a foot of her, she flips out. She absolutely refuses to let me touch her, and it’s fucking killing me because that’s all I want to do.
Daya and Serena have both visited frequently, as Addie is far more comfortable with their embrace than she is with mine.
“Alive,” I answer, though I’m not entirely sure that’s the truth. She’s breathing, but she’s not living. “And slowly getting better. She’s talking now and will smile and laugh sometimes. She’ll be up, down, and sideways for a long time.”
I glance down at the deep gouges in my hands, still bright red from last night.
Every night, she thrashes in the bed, screams tearing from her throat and body flailing. I’ve learned to be careful when I wake her. Some nights she goes into full attack mode. Sightless as she scratches at me, convinced I’m one of the demons haunting her nightmares.
During the day, she’s back to being a ghost. Though that doesn’t seem right, either-the ghosts in Parsons Manor are more active than she is.
And to be frank, I’m growing frustrated. Not because she’s lost in her trauma, but because I have no fucking idea how to bring her out of it.
Helplessness is a feeling I’ve become intimate with. I can’t save every girl, but I’ll be damned if I can’t save Addie, even if it’s from herself.
“She’s going to get through it, Z,” Jay assures, seeming to note the distress darkening the underside of my eyes.
“I know she will. She’s the strongest woman I know,” I agree.
Jay nods, and hands over a bouquet of red roses. “I don’t want to bother her right now, so give these to her for me, yeah?”
“Of course, thanks, man,” I say, grabbing the bundle from his hand. His nails are painted neon pink today, and they’re chipping already.
“Have you checked in on Katerina?”
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.