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Opening my door, he peeks into the hallway, then blows me a kiss before slipping out and quietly closing it behind him.
As soon as he leaves, I grab the pillow his head was lying on, hugging it to my chest. I’m bereft, the ocean waves drowning me again as my life raft disappears. The peace that existed when he was here vanishes, and my head becomes crowded with the horrors of captivity. They roll through my head, one after the other, so fast it’s dizzying.
Tears slide down my cheeks as I squeeze my eyes closed, clinging to the pillow and the residue of Chase’s musk and scent.
Will I ever be okay again?
52
CHASE
After closing the door of my bedroom, my bare feet sink into the carpet, heading to the cold, empty bed. The covers are still thrown back from when I awoke, Mackenzie’s whimpers of despair and agony twisting my heart into knots. I immediately sprung from my bed, heading to her room to comfort her.
Her nightmares are a consistent part of her night, occurring at regular intervals ever since we escaped captivity. We were fortunate to be able to stay in the same hospital room together, which Pearl and Mike insisted on after Mackenzie threatened to elope if they refused to keep us together. Pearl agreed, telling the doctors and nurses in the room that it was imperative for Mackenzie to be in the same room with her brother.
Brother. Yeah, right. My feelings are so far from being brotherly, they exist on a separate scale.
Pearl’s words told me all I needed to know—she regressed from the kidnapping. The trauma of thinking she lost Mackenzie and me was too much for her to bear, and now that we’re back, I’m confused with Gavin again. Just like she’d sometimes slip when I first moved in and call me her dead son’s name.
Sympathy rolls through me. She’s been through a lot. But these delusions she exists in can’t go on forever. There’s no way Mackenzie and I can keep pretending our hearts don’t beat for each other. We can’t hide the overwhelmingly unconditional love and adoration we feel for each other.
Honestly, I don’t want to hide it. I’ve wanted her for a long time, and I had her in captivity. That was really the only positive to our kidnapping—the feelings we hid for so long came flooding out like a dam bursting. When you hover so closely to death, the last thing you want to do is pretend.
I’d like to think our love saved us. That it even affected Rosario enough that she helped save us. Became our ally.
With a sigh, I crawl beneath the covers and stare at the ceiling. Raising my hand, I rub over the aching beneath my breastbone, knowing there is nothing that can take that away. I miss Mackenzie so much, the aching inside my heart has manifested into a physical pain.
If I’m honest with myself, I also miss who I was.
Not that I don’t like who I’ve become. This experience changed me, bringing about some positive changes. But it also forced me to confront some negative things I hadn’t realized about myself. Like how quickly I sacrificed my morals when Orpheus offered me that deal. The chance to join the cult to spare our lives.
Even though I betrayed Orpheus and knew I would when I signed the agreement in blood, it still doesn’t change the fact that I didn’t even hesitate to join the enemy if it meant saving her. And while my intentions were noble and based out of love, it showed me I’m no hero.
I’m just a flawed young man who is obsessively in love with a girl he’d burn the universe down to save.
I fought and killed a young man. Pulverized him, really. He said degrading things about my girl that I knew he wholeheartedly meant. I was sick and fucking tired of these bastards thinking they had the right to violate and damage her. But underneath it, I was sick and fucking tired of them wanting to touch, or in the case of Orpheus, touching, what wasmine.
Mackenzie belongs tome.
It didn’t matter that I knew she didn’t want them and only wanted me. My primal instincts welled up, and I turned into a caveman. You want to touch my girl, I’ll bash your brains in so you can’t.
I don’t regret killing Gage. I had to do it. The winner was the one who survived, and Mackenzie was the prize. It was the only option, so I’d keep her.
But the gory way that I did it and the amount of destruction I left behind forced me to examine myself. I could have snapped his neck, a clean kill if you will. Instead, I beat the guy to a bloody pulp, caving his skull in.
Then there’s the way I stabbed Orpheus with the knife. Over and over, I plunged the blade into his pale, tough skin, blood splatter and pieces of skin dripping from the knife and flying around the room. I needed to make sure the bastard was dead and couldnevercome after my girl again. I needed to punish him for all the times he violated and damaged Mackenzie, taking what wasn’t his to take and physically and psychologically marking her.
The humiliation of being violated like that left scars on my psyche. The fact that Mackenzie and Rosario bore witness to it left a stain on my soul. I needed revenge.
And I took it.
Even so, Orpheus stole pieces of body, consciousness, and soul during the time we were imprisoned in that house of horrors. It changed me. Fractured me. But I refuse to let it destroy me.
I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to stop the tears from falling. But as soon as I open them, they slide down my cheeks. The pain is ever-present, especially when I’m away from Mackenzie. She is a soothing balm on my broken heart and damaged soul.
The helplessness I felt, especially while bound, affected me on a deep level. Nothing was within my control, which is hell for a guy like me. Because of my mom dying and my irresponsible, absentee father, I took control. I was responsible for myself and Elsie. Even though I ended up failing her.
Just like I failed Mackenzie.
