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I’m practically seething. “The hell does that mean?”
Demyen glares at me, his face inches from mine. “You kept your ‘precious baby’ in that fucking hellhole with that sorry excuse for a man. You knew what he was doing and you forced her to live in that terror anyway. Honestly, for that, Ishouldtorture you.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. The cheesecake turns rotten and I want to throw up. “He never touched her.”
The instant arch of his brow makes me feel sicker. No—there’s no way. I’d always been so careful when it came to protecting Willow.
“You really think that?” Demyen scoffs. “Did you ever bother to ask?”
“He swore?—”
“Her,Clara. Did you ever bother to ask Willow?”
I want to cry. I want to throw up. I want to smack that indignant look off his face and claw his all-seeing eyes out of his head.
I want to burn the whole fucking world down until it’s just Willow and me, finally safe and sound from monsters like him.
But instead, all I can do is lean against the frozen shelves and let hot tears spill down my face. Maybe if he leaves me here long enough, they’ll freeze and cool my burning cheeks.
I’m too busy crying to see his face soften, but I hear it in his voice. “Why didn’t you just leave when you had the chance?”
Oh, cruel irony.
“I did.”
I think the deep, hard strength in those words surprises both of us. But I still don’t open my eyes. Hopefully, my tears will freeze them shut so I never have to look at him again.
Demyen remains silent for a breath or two. Then: “What stopped you?”
This time, I pry my eyes open. Just so I can glare at him with all the fire and fury I’ve been bottling up since the moment those security guys stopped me at the front doors of The Meridian.
“Youdid.”
His face is unreadable. He just stares at me, blinking. I stare back until I’m once again too tired and too heartbroken to look at him. Flashes of that night we spent together before either of us knew anything about each other stab through my brain and make everything hurt worse. So much worse.
Why couldn’t he just let me go?
I don’t know how long we stay like that. I don’t even remember falling asleep. But I must, because my dreams get less horrible and I’m vaguely aware of being wrapped up in a weighted blanket on something soft. Every time I struggle against a lesser demon in my nightmares, the blanket tucks tighter around me and the demon scurries away. I can’t make sense of any of it, but I don’t have the energy to even care.
The last dream I remember is of Willow, laughing and happy in the desert sunshine, surrounded by everything she’s ever wanted…
And a handsome father who loves her, handing her a plate of strawberry cheesecake.
26
CLARA
What time is it?
Whatdayis it?
I sit up in bed, slowly so I don’t make myself dizzy—and realize I’m not dizzy at all.
I actually feel better. Somewhat.
I press a hesitant hand to my brow. Surprisingly, it feels way cooler than I expected. Given the way my hair’s sticking to the sides of my face and my neck, I’m wondering if my fever finally broke.
Almost on cue, the door opens and Demyen fills the space. His eyes give me a lingering once-over, and for a moment, I start to wonder why he’s really here. But then he closes the door behind him and tosses something onto the bed.
