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Callum
One month later
Lydia Aston is the quiet after the storm, the proof that even broken men crave the light.
It’s been thirty days since I accidentally shot my girlfriend in the chest. The whole sentence constantly plays on repeat in my mind, sounding more moronic each time it passes through my subconscious. I still have a hard time believing she’s really here, that she won’t vanish the second I let her out of my sight.
Speaking of which, she’s been sort of living with me since the accident. I wanted her here with me so that I could look after her, among other things. She packed a bag and made herself at home ever since. There’s been this unspoken thing day in and day out. I have to admit, it feels natural with her here.
Lydia makes this entire place brighter in her presence, more alive than it’s ever felt with only me inside of it. I guess I have to admit that I don’t completely hate the little black ball of fur that’s tagged along and taken a liking to my lap. Yep, I even let Lydia bring her cat. I stare down at Nyx now, curled into a ball on top of me. She purrs loudly, the vibration moving through my legs as if to ease the tension within them. A sigh escapes my lips as I stroke her fur back and forth mindlessly.
It’s odd, craving the presence of another human the way that I crave Lydia. I’ve always been somewhat of a lone wolf, never feeling like I needed someone else to be whole. Not until her, that is. Not only do I crave Lydia’s presence in my life, but I need it as badly as I need the blood in my veins. I’ve been wandering for so damn long, and Lydia Aston makes me feel like I’m finally home. I’m done running, done searching. She’s the missing piece I hadn’t realized I’d been searching for, and now I’ll never let her go.
Not everything has been sunshine and glitter, though. Thumbing through a text thread between Riven and me, I reread the words as if that would somehow make them feel more believable. Riven found his brother a few cities over, on the run. Turns out, Raithe was under the same compulsion that Riven and I were, the Somnius command rendering us all mindless to the control of whoever wielded it. In this case, it was Sabel Matthews. Sabel was grooming Raithe all this time, making sure that he’d be the one to execute her plans if something ever happened to her.
Raithe Reilly was Sabel’s fucking fail-safe.
Sabel always did have a sick obsession with Riven’s brother, though I don’t know the specifics. None of us ever talked about what happened when we were trapped by Sabel and punished every time Riven fucked up. Shit, Riven doesn’t even know, and those are the secrets I plan to take to the grave.
Sabel’s secret agenda was to ensure the Eden Frequency played out regardless of her death. She wanted control, even from beyond the grave. I grimace, reading through the messages that paint Raithe Reilly as an innocent backseat passenger locked inside his mind. The entire sick plan makes my skin crawl, even as I read it for the millionth time.
Sabel made sure that Raithe wouldn’t be able to resist. She induced a state of psychosis in Raithe’s mind that mimicked Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. According to Riven, DID involves the disruption of identity in which a person experiences two or more shifting states of reality, along with gaps in memory and a distorted sense of self. In other words, Raithe was shifting between himself and who the frequency forced him to become. And the worst part? Raithe really had no fucking idea who he was while wearing that mask.
Riven thought his brother was on drugs or something, but this feels so much worse. I don’t know how to feel about this, unsure whether I should be upset or worried, or fucking horrified. Riven seems to be taking the news well, but he’s probably compartmentalizing the shit into personal and professional boxes in his head like he often does. I feel for him, I really fucking do.
“Hey,” Lydia says, her warm voice seeping through the feelings of dread. She places a hand on my shoulder, her eyes tracking down to my phone. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lie, doubling back. “No, actually. It’s this whole thing with Raithe.” Nyx makes a small chirping sound before stretching and jumping from the sofa.
“I know,” she says, grabbing the phone from my hand and setting it face down on the end table beside my large black sectional. “It’s not your burden to carry. You can care for them, grieve with them, even rage beside them without feeling like you need to fix everything. The universe will sort this out, just as it always does. Raithe will be okay in his own time.”
I tug her arm, pulling her into my lap. Her head falls to my chest as she sinks into my embrace. She laughs softly, and like always, every muscle in my body relaxes at the sound of it.
“Why do you always know the right things to say?” I ask, kissing the top of her head.
“I don’t,” she says. “But I know you, and I know your heart.”
“You are my heart,” I say, the words leaving my lips without warning.
“And how is it that you always know the right things to say?” she asks, giggling as she repeats my words back to me. “You know, when I first met you, I wasn’t sure you knew how to say a single word. I was actually convinced you might be a caveman.”
“Ha. Ha,” I mock, digging my fingers into her side. She laughs, the sound loud and unguarded.
“So, about that retreat,” she says, nuzzling her cheek against my bare chest.
“Yes, we can go.” I sigh, recalling that she scheduled a weekend for us at Arcadia Grove. I can’t say no to her, even if I wanted to. What my girlfriend wants, my girlfriend gets. Even if that means sitting in a circle and chanting nonsense to a bunch of strangers.
“Yay!” she squeals, sitting up and kissing me on the cheek before hopping off of me and skipping to my bedroom to grab her bags.
She’s healed beautifully, her wounds nearly scarred over now—her nightmares fading with each night that passes. I smile, watching as she disappears down the hall, and Nyx’s collar jingles as she takes off after her. My smile widens, knowing how easy it would be to get used to having the two of them here permanently.
☽ ✦ ☽
We pull into Arcadia Grove, turning into the long, winding pathway between the overhanging trees on either side. The huge place comes sprawling into view as we bend around the last curve, and I grimace at the ridiculous size of the thing. I know this is the second time I’ve seen it, but it’s fucking enormous. And for what? So they can brainwash innocent people into thinking they’re “healed,” all while stealing their money? Shit, this place is no better than Sonus Corp when you think about it.
“Can you at least pretend like you want to be here?” Lydia sighs as she watches my array of transparent emotions. I park, unbuckling my seat belt as I turn toward her.
