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“What’s wrong?” Lillith asks, peering over to see the message. I angle the screen toward her, letting her read the cryptic message.
Ghost:
Going dark for a bit. FBI agent is on my tail.
I’ll explain later. Message my server if it’s urgent (and give my love to Lillith).
Lillith looks at me after reading it, the statement in her gaze mirroring mine.
“Well, that can’t be good.”
“No, little flower,” I murmur, pulling her closer to my chest. “No, it can’t.”
EPILOGUE
LILLITH
The tip of the revolver glints angrily beneath the flickering street lamp, and I step out from behind Mom's knees, directly in the line of fire.
The dream carries on as normal, no one seeming to realize that I've stepped closer to the bad man.
"I don't want your life, but I won't think twice about taking it if you don't give me what I want," he snarls, waving the gun at Daddy's chest.
I should be afraid, but it's the opposite of what I feel. I look up at the bad man, the monster who killed my parents, and I start to grow. In seconds, I'm no longer the six-year-old girl, helpless to do anything but watch her parents murdered in cold blood. I'm no longer scared, no longer fear the shadows curling in on me from all sides.
I look directly over the bad man's shoulder, searching for that silver gaze that has been there the whole time. Watching. Waiting.
The boy—my savior—meets my eyes. His chin tips, giving me a near imperceptible nod. Understanding. Approval.
It feels like my body is moving through water as I turn and grab the gun from the bad man's hand. He doesn't react, doesn't even flinch as I take that weapon and press it to his temple.
"Do it, flower. Kill him."
I've never felt more at peace as I pull the trigger.
A mighty yawn tears from my mouth as I stretch out in bed, pushing my face deeper into the pillow and breathing in Kain's scent. I fucking love that dream.
The relief that flooded my veins a moment ago is just now ebbing, and I reach out to Kain's side of the bed, frowning when my hand is met with cold bed sheets. I press up on my arm, holding the blanket over my swollen, abused breasts. Kain was especially pent up last night, and I was secretly hoping we could go another round before he left for the club this morning. The nights he lets the beast out are my favorite, and I no longer feel guilty for reaping the benefits of his twisted fantasies.
I run my hand over his side of the bed longingly, a spark lighting my chest as my hand comes into contact with a note under his pillow. I rip the note out, and my eyes pour over the messy scrawl greedily.
I fold the note delicately, pressing my lips to the small paper square as I throw my legs over the side of the bed. I tuck it into the bedside drawer with the hundreds of others, then make my way into the bathroom to get ready for my shift at the ER.
After everything that happened, I didn't feel safe returning to Mortiton Memorial. There were too many horrible memories, too many reminders of the lie I used to live in. So when Ghost was able to get me into an internship at a small hospital just outside the city, I broke into a happy dance. Finally, I won't have to look over my shoulder. Finally, I can save lives like I've always dreamed.
I step out of the shower half an hour later and let out a yelp when I realize the time. Shoving my legs into my scrub pants, I throw my hair up into a messy bun before heading over to Geralds cage to give him his morning meal.
“Sorry, buddy. I don’t have time for scratches this morning,” I murmur, petting his tiny mouse head with my index finger as I fill his food bowl. His little arms splay in a stretch, and my heart squeezes as I murmur one last goodbye.
Checking the time again, I tear into the kitchen, snagging the thermos of coffee and lunchbox Kain always leaves for me. When Kain realized I wasn't eating at work, he practically threw a fit. Ever since then, I've woken up to a lunchbox filled with meals that would make five-star chefs jealous.
It certainly makes my co-workers jealous. It's gotten so bad that I've even had a few people offer to pay me to trade lunches. I could never part with the delicacies that Kain packs me, but a few offers have been tempting.
"Bless you, beautiful, beautiful man," I moan, savoring the sip of perfectly brewed coffee on my tongue. I look at the lunchbox, debating whether I have time to sneak a peek at what he packed me today. Another quick glance at my phone tells me I don't, so I hurry from the cabin.
"Morning, Herb! Morning Sally! Morning babies!” I call, waving toward the large wooden pigeon coup beside the greenhouse. A soft coo sounds across the distance, and my grin spreads wider. I can make out Herb’s green iridescent feathers from here, shining brightly in the morning sun where he sits on his perch. Sally sits at his side, preening the feathers on his back while keeping a watchful eye on her nest.
The babies haven't hatched yet, but Kain thinks it's getting close. He's read a lot about birds—specifically pigeons—since he brought Herb and Sally home, so I've been talking to them daily, preparing for the moment I get to meet Herb's fledglings.
