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And a whole host of others.
They were fundamentally themselves still but stripped of the labels and expectations others had forced on them, free ofThe Garden’sdomination.
Just fuckingfree.
Alicia had talked about suppressed memories coming back, having to work through them to get to that place of freedom, which was the first checkpoint to…happy.
Maybethatwas why I’d initially come to Vegas.
To look the architect of my nightmares in the face, so maybe I could move on from layer after layer of bullshit piled on me, sincebirth.Sinceconception.
It was too much muck for any one man to wade through, probably.
And Blue thoughtIbelonged in his mythical fucking fist?
I scoffed, looking down at his father’s grave, at those dying roses, to shake my head.
“You should have left behind something better for your son,” I muttered, turning to walk away.
Tati was still poised in front of her lost loved ones, head down. I could hear her voice, too muffled by distance to make out the words, but I could tell it was a private conversation.
It was getting dark though and I wasn’t exactly into spending the night among graves.
Even so… I waited for her to look up.
When she did, her eyes were glossy again. This time, she seemed much more at peace than she’d been in her work room.
I closed the distance between us, trying not to pay attention to how fucking pretty she looked with her braids pouring over her shoulders and that serene expression on her face.
It was a damn graveyard.
Notthe place.
“You ready to head back?” I called to her. “Folks are probably worried about you.”
“I let Blue know where I was,” she answered. “But yeah. I’m ready.”
She didn’t have me take her back to her old place; we went to the new one, which was considerably closer to the clubhouse. Blue and Keira were already there, along with Ghost and Teo, unloading more and more of Tati’s things.
I ignored the look Blue shot in my direction and tried to ignore the obvious space everybody was giving me and Tati. Instead of focusing on tryingnotto look like something was up, I just did what I would’ve otherwise.
Made myself useful.
“What made you decide to pull the trigger on this?” I asked, helping her unpack the boxes for her new kitchen. “Last week you were telling me you didn’t want to leave.”
“I was having trouble sleeping,” she told me. “Among other things.”
I stopped what I was doing, turning to where she was stacking plates in a cabinet. “Things like what? Nightmares? Hearing things?”
“Those too.” She nodded, shifting to meet my gaze. “I was kinda hoping that being in a new space would help me… reconnect with myself.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighed. “Have you ever felt like a stranger in your own body? Like you stepped out of yourself to cope, and now…”
“You can’t get back,” I murmured, nodding.
I hated that I could relate, but…
