I stared at the water, wondering if the churning waves ever got tired of swallowing pain. There was nothing left but memory and wanting, and neither would ever let me go.
I remembered something my mother would say when she wasn’t consumed by the monster of addiction. When she was as soft as an angel.
Catch a falling star, Amelia, and make a wish.
I remembered wishes I used to make: I wish my father would come back. I wish my mom could be nice all the time. I wish I had a normal family. I wish Caiden weren’t a monster. I wish I could escape his cruelty.
Now? I had one wish. I wish I could turn back time. Or maybe not exist at all.
I looked up at the sky.
Your innocent daughter is gone, Mom. She’s crippled just like you.
We can never go back.
17
CAIDEN
SeeingAmelia unravel like that in my arms really fucking shook me up. It was as if we were right back in that cage, and she was terrified, begging for her life. I should have been her Prince Charming, I should have comforted her.
Instead, I was a fucking asshole, as usual. It’s all I know. I shot her down, and that made everything worse.
Part of me was still upset at the fact that he pushed me away when we were alone in the kitchen, grinding against each other like teenagers.
But I meant what I said.
Hearing it leave my lips surprised me, but I knew that I meant it. I would kill anybody who tried to hurt her like that again. I’ve done it once, when I tore Blake’s flesh apart with his own knife.
She was in my bloodstream; she had been for a long time, and I promised myself I would never allow her to be tortured like that ever again.
I know I tortured her for years, but actually seeing it from an outside perspective, and so much more brutal, it changed me.
I wish I could make her understand that.
“Damn. I’m not doing too well with this.” Shane reeled in his line to change the bait.
We were on the fishing pier, Shane was trying pitifully to catch a fish, while I didn’t care much if I caught one or not. I just liked to be able to sit out here, listening to the whistle of the wind, watching the colors bleed into the sea, lost in the abyss of my head.
"Not many fish out right now, it seems," I muttered, the salty tang of the sea air stinging my nostrils. I watched him wrestle with his line. My own empty line felt heavy and disappointing in my hand.
“I bet all the fish told each other about the dangers of the hook, now they’re all too scared to bite the bait.” Shane chuckled as he spoke, trying to make light of his failed attempts.
My laughter followed, a brittle sound in the air. “I’m sure they did,” I said, the words tasting like ash on my tongue, my voice a flat, hollow thing despite the amusement.
His gaze fell on me, a dark eyebrow arching. "Everything alright? You're awfully distracted on this trip." He looked back towards the sea, adjusting his fishing line.
Shane, bless his heart, was trying to bond by expressing his concern. He still didn’t realize that sometimes, silence is the best language that I know. It’s easier to try and fucking pour my heart out, only to be disregarded like I had been so many times by my father.
But Shane wasn’t my father; I had to keep reminding myself that not everybody was like him.
“It’s a nice trip, don’t get me wrong, but some things have happened between Amelia and me, and I can’t focus on having a good time.” The casual smile I had been maintaining slipped, and a frown replaced it. I was surprised with myself when I heard the honesty in my words.
He nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I have noticed something going on between you two,” he paused and held an amusement glint in his eyes, “It would explain your brooding.”
I scoffed, staring back out at the sea. “Yeah. I guess I am brooding. I was trapped with Amelia in the wilderness, kidnapped by a fucking killer, and now there’s something shifting between us. My head is a fucking mess when it comes to her. I grew up hating her, now I’m haunted by her, and obsessed with her.”
My jaw muscles tightened, a familiar ache settling in my temples as the scoff escaped me. The sea breeze, usually a comfort, felt cold against my skin, mirroring the chill that had settled deep in my bones.
