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Shit. I run both hands through my short hair and tug on my lip ring with my teeth. What’s going on here?
Something taped on the wall catche
s my eye. A piece of paper. No, a page torn from a large book. A drawing.
I hurry over and study it, my frown deepening. It’s from a religious book. It shows what I assume is hell, demons burning in the fires of the pit. Across it, in a red marker this time, is written ‘I shall cleanse you with fire.’
What the what?
“Goddammit, Dad,” I hiss under my breath, pulling the page free and scrunching it up. “What’s up with you now?”
I know he’s depressed, but I’ll have to have a word with him. Scaring my bros isn’t acceptable. What’s this church he’s joined now? I jotted down the name the other day. I need to check it online, but as we don’t have the internet at home, not to mention the fact my laptop breathed its last in the summer, it’ll have to wait.
Most important things first.
I grab a rag, wet it and go kneel again in front of my brothers. I clean the words from their foreheads, and then, in spite of my own dark thoughts, I sit between them on the sofa, put my arms around them and tell them everything’s gonna be all right.
PART III
Tessa
You know how it is when you’re running down a dark tunnel, knowing monsters are snapping at your heels and an abyss waiting for you ahead? How you wake up, drenched in sweat, disoriented and panicky until you realize it was a dream?
A nightmare. Awful and terrifying, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. Horrible, but not real.
Okay so far.
Now imagine you wake up and realize it wasn’t a dream at all. It’s all true. All real. The monster is inside your head, in your memories. He has a face and a voice, and he’s back. Back to chase you and kill you. No matter how fast and far you run, he’s there, right there, snapping at your heels, waiting for you at every turn. Souring everything in your life.
Sooner or later, you’ll realize that unless you want to run forever, there’s only one way out: stop. Turn around. Face your fear. Decide that this person, this nightmare can’t kill your dreams and hopes.
Learn to fight back and claim your future.
Chapter Eleven
Tessa
It’s been two days since I found Sean outside my apartment. It feels like a bad dream, like something that didn’t really happen.
But it did. He was there. He was stalking me, waiting for me.
I’m not safe.
I’m still staying at Audrey and Asher’s place. Being around them is great. I don’t think I could face staying on my own right now, and they’re awesome friends who make me feel welcome every hour of every day, even though I’m crowding them in their small apartment.
Still, they’re so wrapped up in themselves right now, and with their not so little secret, I can understand. They still haven’t told the others. They’re caught up in making plans for their future. I can see it in the way they look at each other, the smiles they share when they think no one is looking. It’s sweet and heart-warming and makes me want to leave them alone, so they can enjoy this special time in their lives in peace.
Meanwhile, everything has changed. My dad froze my bank account and canceled my cards. Everything I own is still at my apartment. I wonder if my access card and key still work. At least I’m starting work at Mr. Walker’s organization tomorrow.
I push the thoughts away, for fear I might scream with frustration, fear, anger... Sadness. Deep inside, it hurts to think my parents’ money and social status means more to them than me. Then again, I’ve known it all my life.
But I feel okay. Truth be told, without a place to call my own, with barely any money in my pocket, for the first time in my life I feel good.
Except… I miss Dylan. I can’t believe he dropped everything and came to see me, went with us to the police station and invited me to stay in his house.
Hard as it is, though, I have to move on. Have to let go of him. Have to go back to my apartment, get my stuff, find another place to live. Start work. Find a second job.
With a groan, I sink on the sofa, which serves as my temporary bed, and tug on my hair. Is this how Dylan feels all the time—so overwhelmed with worry about everything? Finding money, getting a job, plus taking care of his brothers? Theoretically I knew it all along, but for the first time I can really empathize—and sympathize. For the first time I can really imagine what his life must be like.
