T-shirts, sweaters, pajamas, and jeans in a variety of colors emerge from the bag. Two pairs of sneakers, some flats, and one inexplicable pair of heels lurk in boxes within a larger sack. Then come the soaps and toiletries, all in light, luxurious scents, like lilac and neroli.
“I don’t understand.” My fingers trace a seam on the pocket of the thickest, fluffiest bathrobe I have felt in my life. “How did you know what sizes to get?”
His mouth sets in a firm line. “Your address was on the papers the CCP had me sign. We went by your apartment.”
“My apartment’s gone. They burned everything the night they took me.”
He pulls another bag from the hallway. Something glimmers out of its black packaging. Something purple and shining bright.
“My suit.” The oxygen falters in my lungs.
One corner of his mouth rises. “I’d like to hold on to it for a bit, if that’s okay.”
The idea leadens my heart, but what good would it do me now? The sight of it used to be enough to strike fear into the hearts of New Malcolm’s criminals. Now, it’s a beacon calling out to the CCP, a spotlight blazing for them to take me again.
“I have one final surprise for you.”
Swallowing past the emotion thickening my throat, I nod. George enters with a brand-new pet carrier, blue bottom, khaki top, in her hands. A pink nose pokes out from within the metal bars that make up the carrier’s door. A nose tipped with white fur and the barest speck of a gray dot.
“Apollo!” I rush to the carrier, taking it from George’s hands with a relief that makes my head spin. My handsome gray and white tabby is nestled within. His vibrant jade eyes glow in the shadowed space, contentedly purring like he has no idea that he’s just been spending the day with the enemy.
And gods, I don’t even care! Whatever he’s done in the past, this moment is more than I could dream. My sweet boy had been missing for about three months. He’d disappeared before, but he always came back, fat and full of energy. Sometimes I wonder if half the homes in New Malcolm didn’t feed him on his little vacations. When the CCP came, I was glad he wasn’t there. The little sleep I got in that cell was spent in tortured nightmares filled with what they might have done just to hurt me. I’d wake crying and sick to my stomach, but full of gratitude that those visions hadn’t come to pass.
I clear my throat. “I never thought I’d see him again.”
Charade turns away just as the first tear rolls past the apex of my lips. “One of your neighbors said she spotted him roaming the building a few days ago. She stopped me on my way out of your apartment and asked if I knew how to reunite you. I couldn’t say no.”
“He’s a real sweetie.” George pokes the pad of his paw and he swipes lazily at the offending appendage. “He makes me want to get my own little pal.”
Apollo’s beautifully splotched body curves in my arms, his warm, comforting weight warming my heart. His purr thrums in my ears, strong and comforting. It kills me to put him down, but my heart is too raw, too full for anything else.
I feel him watching as I cross the room, stopping just in front of him. His expression is unreadable behind those dark frames, even as I close the space between us. And though I’m not normally a hugger, it feels right when I wrap him in a tight embrace. My cheek presses into his chest, and I inhale his spicy scent. I don’t know why, but his warm, solid presence soothes some of the ache in my chest.
“Thank you, Charade.” My eyes close as a fresh wave of tears crest my eyelashes. “Thank you.”
8
ZANE
There was a time when the manor was filled with guests almost every night. Relatives paraded through in a revolving door of love, hugs, and presents. The parties my parents, and grandparents before them, were known for filled these halls with voices, music, and laughter. My aunts tried to one-up one another in the kitchen. The scents wafted in torturous trails through the house until we couldn’t stand it anymore. Sweet, buttery breads, savory soups, and main courses so rich you’d be full until the following day. My cousins and our friends would beg at the door for just a little taste. I was never truly lonely, even after my parents passed away. That’s what home meant to me.
C changed all that. Of all the things he took from me, that’s the one I mourn the most. The price for my chance at revenge.
When I saw the look on Kaye’s face when she was reunited with her furry friend, I knew I had done something special. Maybe given a little piece of home back to her. And then she wrapped her arms around me and my world tilted.
She’s right to be afraid of me. I’m volatile. Dangerous. Ruthless to a fault. But there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protectwhat is mine. I just didn’t realize how quickly that would come to include my charming adversary.
I hadn’t realized I had decided to speak until the words had left my mouth, but I meant it when I offered Kaye my protection. Threatening her this morning left a sour taste on my tongue. One that was necessary, even if I’d have given anything to wash it away. Now, her arms are around me, her tears soaking my shirt.
She darts away as soon as I begin to reach for her, eyes wide and trembling hands clasped to her chest.
My palms lower to my sides, so cold now in the absence of her warmth. I never realized how much I missed that—the comforting warmth and trust that humans give one another. We need that connection, even if we like to tell ourselves we don’t.
“How about a little tour?” I ask. “There’s something I want to show you.”
It seems like she’ll refuse. Maybe it’s all been too much for one day. Then she steps up to the challenge with something of her old spark in her eyes. “Lead the way.”
Sunlight streams through the manor’s large, open windows, casting my home in an enchanting light. It’s that special time of day, where the soft dew of morning has not yet given way to the vibrant glare of day and every shadow carries the smallest touch of night. The time of day filled with promise yet to come, and for just a couple hours, anything is possible.
