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He had been gonefor hours. At least, that’s what it felt like.
In reality, it couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes. I was tightly strung, my stomach hollow and aching.
It had been hours since we were taken from outside of Uncle Michele’s house. But I didn’t allow myself to think on that too much. On what might have happened to him or Aunt Marcella or Bella or the rest of my family.
God, what if—
No, Alessia, don’t go there.
I couldn’t accept that I would never see my brother again. Arianne and Lucia. My cousins and their partners who I’d come to consider family.
Tristan would find us a way out of this. He would figure something out and—
Tap. Tap.
I went deathly still, my fingers curled into the hem of my dress as I listened.
Tap. Tap.
Tristan. It had to be Tristan. But I couldn’t move, paralyzed by the fear coiled around my heart, my chest and lungs. It had me in its chokehold, refusing to let go.
“Sia, it’s me.” Tristan’s voice filled the cabin and I sagged with relief, a garbled cry spilling from my lips.
He appeared in the doorway, his brows pulled tight. “What is it? What happened?” He rushed to my side and crouched down, and I leaped into his arms, holding on tight. Breathing him in and letting his familiar scent comfort me.
“I-I thought…”
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here, I’m here. And I found supplies.”
“You did?” I eased away to look at him.
“Yeah, there’s an old truck out back, there were a few things we can make use of. Wait here.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead, lingering for a second. The air crackled between us as I peered up at him, trying to verbalize the words on the tip of my tongue.
It wasn’t time to tell him how I felt, to confess what was in my heart, but what if all we had was this moment?
What if we both didn’t make it out alive?
A violent shudder went through me, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Wait here,” he said, running his knuckles down my cheek.
His touch felt different. Tender and possessive but I wasn’t thinking straight, how could I with everything that was going on?
What if I was misreading things?
Imagining signs that weren’t really there?
He’d said things last night, things I so desperately wanted to believe, but what if that was just a spur of the moment thing? What if he didn’t really mean it or had no plans to act on it?
My heart careened against my chest, a wild band of horses inside of me.
I curled up against the old bed, hugging Tristan’s jacket to my body, praying to a God I didn’t believe in for mercy.
CHAPTER6
TRISTAN
Iwatched her from the door, folded in on herself. Holding herself together.
