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“Wilder and I need to have a little conversation before we can do anything else.”
“And that involves drugging him?”
I shrug a shoulder, remaining focused on my task. “Payback is a bitch.” He stands and watches as I grind the antihistamines into a fine powder before sprinkling them into Wilder’s milkshake. “I’m going to need your help, though.”
Snorting, he shakes his head, even as a grin stretches his lips. “Anything you want, Little Sparrow.”
Chapter25
WILDER
Groggily, I peel my eyes open. The dark ceiling of my bedroom looms above me, and I stare up at it in confusion, trying to figure out how I got here. The last thing I remember, we were eating breakfast…
My brows lower as I wrack my brain to remember. A wave of exhaustion hit me. I put it down to the pain meds, lack of sleep, and the day's events. Except…
“Wakey wakey,” a sugary sweet voice sing-songs.
I snap my gaze to where Emilia is straddling me. Well, that explains the pressure I could feel on my torso. Reaching for her on instinct, I come up short when something cold bites into my skin. Frowning, I tilt my head back so I can see my hands.
"You handcuffed me to the bed?" I question, jiggling the cuffs. She doesn’t answer, giving me time to take stock of my situation. Now that I am aware of it, I can feel the same cool steel touching my ankles, and a twitch of my legs confirms they are also restrained, although hidden beneath a thin bedsheet.
My eyes slowly skim over my body. “Am I naked?”
"Yup." She pops the p, grabbing my attention as I stare at her shit-eating grin. I immediately harden at the promise of retribution in her eyes, which has turned her usually jade irises a hunter green. God, why is knowing that she wants to hurt me such a fucking turn-on?
The reasoning probably requires a therapist to pick at and psychoanalyze, but I don’t give a fuck why. All I can think about is every moment she was the one atmymercy. I wonder what she will do now that the roles are reversed? The prospect only sends more blood south of the border, making Emilia aware of precisely where my head is at.
“Seriously, Wilder?” she chastises.
“Can you blame me, Angel? You look so fucking gorgeous straddling me, ready to rain down hellfire.”
What can she expect, dressed like Lilith herself in sexy fire-engine red lingerie? All she’s missing are cute little horns on her head, and I’d believe I truly did die in that bunker and woke up in hell.
Unaffected by my attempt to soften her, she waves a piece of paper in front of me. It takes only a second for me to recognize it as the letter she had written me four years ago. Ever since I finally opened it, it’s been in the top drawer of my bedside table, so it wouldn’t have been difficult for her to find.
“Remember this?” she snarks, and for the first time, I see just how furious she is. It’s hot, but I do my best to quell my baser urges, knowing damn well I deserve the verbal assault coming my way. “You asked me if I was done finding myself, and I gave you an honest answer. ButInever asked if you were done hating me for what happened.”
Not giving me a second to answer her, she trudges on. “Don’t worry, in any case. Your answer was loud and clear in the library when you threw this letter in my face.”
Anger tightens her expression as her hand grasping the letter shakes with her fury. “The thing is, Wilder, if we are ever going to have a chance, we both need to come clean—to each other, to ourselves. I need you to actually fucking listen to me for once and take a good hard look at yourself.”
I gulp audibly. For the first time since I woke up, nerves batter at my carefully constructed armor. Like a fishing rod latched onto its catch, her gaze draws me in, holding me prisoner until I finally nod, accepting her agreement.
I thought I was going to die yesterday, and all I could think about was her. No longer able to feel her warm glow surrounding me. For the first time in years, I allowed myself to remember how it felt when she looked at me with affection and wonderment in her eyes. It made me feel like I was complete, like I had a purpose in this world—to love and care for her. After years of wandering the earth like a phantom—empty and aimless—I’d finally found a reason for my existence. A reason why I had survived, and none of my friends had. For the first time in a long time, my world made sense.
Without her, my existence was nothing but a bleak wasteland. Desolate and unforgiving. I accepted my cold, harsh reality and learned to survive in its unrelenting conditions.
When I read her letter, I thought I could simply pack up all those unresolved emotions. Put in earplugs and drown out the voices, as I had before. Only now do I realize that that’s not a long-term solution. If I locked everything up and went back to the way things were at Pac, everything would eventually have blown up in our faces in spectacular fashion. Which is exactly what happened in the library.
When we were at Pac, I wasn’t ready to face everything I’d been keeping so carefully buried all these years. Emilia gave me a temporary reprieve, and I latched onto it, but the couple we were back then was never going to make it the long haul. Not when I couldn’t be honest with myself.
Now, though. I’m ready—or as ready as I’ll ever be—to confront my past. For Emilia, I’ll face those demons, tackle the voices, and wade into battle with the ghosts of my past.
I just hope I come out victorious.
As my lips part, ready to spill every last piece of my blood-stained, corroded soul, Emilia beats me to it.
“I didn’t spend the summer with the band,” she blurts out.
