Page 20 of Signed For Him

"I want to be a writer. I'm going to make it happen. I'm so sick of bad, just bad everything, I'm going to make my life good," I tell him with a determined smile.

I have no idea where I'll start or what I'll do to get where I want to be, but I do know that I want to try. I don't want to hold back or wait for anything anymore. If I want something, I'm going to be a stubborn sod and bloody well make it happen.

"What about you? What do you want to do?" I ask him as I flip onto my stomach and watch him as he bites the inside of his cheek and pinches his brows together.

"I honestly have no idea. I've never known. I just know I want more than this now. I don't know what more is though."

"You'll figure it out, I'll help. We need to move on, make our own lives." Gray nods his head at me, agreeing before closing his eyes.

"I'm just going to rest for a bit and then we can make new lives, OK?" he says, sleeping as he rolls over on the bed and pulls a pillow under his head.

I lay my head down but know that sleep won't be coming for me anytime soon. I can very rarely switch off and fall asleep quickly, no matter how exhausted I am.

I think back to what it is I want to do. I want to write. I have more ideas than I know what to do with, but I have no idea if that's really something I could pursue.

When I think about my life in the years ahead, I can imagine myself with children one day. I can see myself living peacefully in the countryside not far from where we are now and despite how much I've always envisioned a future without the Cobras in it, I can't seem to shake the feeling that they'll always be a part of my life and so much of me is grateful for that. The Cobras have been a family to me for the longest time as I've grown up, adapted to the world, and tried to figure out who I am.

Dad squeezed me fresh orange juice that tastes heavenly to go with my breakfast - well, it's mid-afternoon but I've just woken up and Gray is still sleeping and since I haven't eaten since last night, I feel practically starved.

I eat the food from the plate in front of me, devour it more like. I feel as though I have a never ending and never full stomach to contend with right now. Being away from constant danger will likely have that effect on you, though, I imagine. I mean, I ate well before but I feel insatiable today.

Through my breakfast, I notice, but make a point not to be obvious that I've noticed, Dad staring at me. I'm not sure he even realises that he's doing it but every time I glance in his direction, he's watching me. Sometimes with a small smile and other times with a gaze filled with worry and wonder. I can't imagine how awful the last few months must have been for him, but I also don't know how to comfort him. I'm not sure that giving him a hug will help. In all honesty, I don't think anything will help aside from him knowing I'll never leave his side again.

"Who gave you that scar, Charlie?" My body freezes at his words, his question.

I'm not sure I want to answer but I also can't not. If I tell him who gave me it, he'll ask how I got it and even though I've had the all clear from the hospital and they have my full reports and want to start counselling to help me talk through things at which point I'm sure I will be honest, I'm not sure how I can be right now with him - and yet I don't want to lie either.

"One of the men that took me," I tell him, figuring it's the truth and hopefully enough.

"Did they.." He pauses, scratching the side of his face along the scruffy beard that's grown. "Did they hurt you in, you know, in other ways, Charlie?" He grimaces as the words come out, his intention with the question clear.

I find myself hesitant to answer. I don't want to answer - not just because I don't want to have this conversation but because I know it'll break his heart. But I also don't want to start lying to him. My mind whizzes with possible answers that I could give him without lying but without telling the truth and yet they all seem ludicrous or unbelievable, even in my own head.

"Just once. I never saw them again," I tell him, sticking to the truth. I didn't ever see them again and I didn't ask what had happened, where they were, or if they were in the same building that I was living in because I didn’t want to know.

His face contorts in agony, his eyes closing as he takes a deep and ragged breath before opening his glassy eyes and looking at me again.

“Liam didn’t let me out of his apartment there – he said it was too dangerous. I only saw him, Gray, and the doctor the whole time I was there. No one else was allowed in, and I didn't go out. Even if he had let me, it's not as though I would have wanted to." My dad nods at me, his face clearing as he takes in my words.

"They looked after you?" he asks, his voice sketchy and unsure.

"Yeah, they helped me a lot. I wouldn't have got through it without them." It's the first time I've said it or even thought about it and truly meant it. I hadn't thought about it before, but it is true. If Liam hadn't done what he had for me, I have no idea what would have happened to me or how I would have survived. If I had survived at all.

"Charlie, darlin, I need to talk to you about a few things.." My dad sounds so unsure of himself, and I dread to think what comes next as I wait for him to continue.

In a moment that I thought was about to be either heartfelt and comforting or downright dreadful, the front door springs open, hitting the wall behind it with a thunderous roar as scuffling sounds from behind me. I twist in my chair to look down the hallway only to freeze in place as I take in the scene in front of me.

What the hell is going on?

Crow and Liam are scrapping, if you can even call it that, as they are both attempting to get into the house. My dad must have got up without me realising because between the unintelligible shouting, my dad is trying to split the two up, his own voice shouting and joining in with theirs.

It isn't until Gray comes down the stairs, his hair dishevelled and his eyes still half closed, that I lift myself from the chair and make a move towards the three men currently having a very tightly contained shouting match in the hallway. At least they'd got inside the house now. Most of our neighbours are members of the Cobras, but for the ones that aren't, they would not be happy about this chaos on our very literal doorstep.

Gray’s eyes travel from the scene in front of us to me, back again and then land on the ceiling as he sighs, rubs his eyes, and comes down towards me.

"What's happening?" he asks, his voice still hoarse and filled with sleep.

"I have got absolutely no idea," I tell him as I continue watching as my dad pushes Crow and Liam apart, one hand on either of their chests.

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