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She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Never,” she says firmly.
“No touching!” the guard yells, louder this time.
After Astrid leaves, I settle back into my routine for the next few days, watching TV, reading, sleeping, eating. A lot.
One day I feel something weird in my stomach, something I can’t describe, and I ask to go to the clinic. They run tests, the nurse calls the doctor in, and they look at me with dismay.
And what the doctor says to me changes everything.
I call up my lawyer and beg him to ask Joshua to visit me.
A day goes by. Two days. I start to panic.
He’s not coming. He’s really not coming. If he doesn’t come… I can’t even think of it. I’ve lived in the darkness before, but this is my worst nightmare.
CHAPTERTWENTY-TWO
JOSHUA
A storm of emotions swarm through me when I see Tamara sitting across from me, so pale, her face strained, swallowed up by baggy beige hospital clothes. I’m grateful and happy and guilty as hell.
She has bluish half-moon circles under her eyes. Her hair was bleached blonde when she came here, and now she has six inches of dark roots and her hair hangs limply around her shoulders. I want to bathe her. I want to make her clean and new again. I want to run my fingers through her hair. I want to wash away her sorrow and anger and kiss her from head to toe until she forgives me.
“Tamara, I’m so sorry this happened. It’s all my fault,” I say, sitting down in the metal chair next to her—under the watchful eye of the guard who’s standing across the room from us, waiting to pounce in case this frail little waif should attempt to attack me. Thanks to a fat bribe, the guard is farther away than she normally would be, so I can speak without her overhearing, but that’s all she can do; she can’t leave me alone with Tamara.
Tamara manages a smile, or maybe it’s a grimace. “No argument there.”
I take her hand in mine. “I was losing my mind. I really thought I’d kill you. I was sleepwalking and destroying the furniture and smashing windows without realizing it. I was hallucinating, seeing my father running at me with knives and lashing out at him, then I’d wake with my fists inside the holes I punched in the wall.” I hold up my hands, which are covered with new pink scars.
“You could have done other things besides send me away.” Her voice is tight and angry, her eyes accusing. “You could have had guards watch over you. You could have at least tried therapy. You didn’t even try.”
I swallow as my throat closes with guilt. “You’re right,” I tell her. “I see that now. I just… I felt like I was falling into a black hole, and I was never going to climb out of it. I thought that it wouldn’t be long before I went stark raving mad. I didn’t want you to be there for that. I’m really dangerous, Tamara, you know that.”
“And now? How are you now?” She’s looking at me intently. Like my answer is really important.
I don’t deserve her concern. I don’t deserve her, but I want her, and I’ll fight for her.
“I think I’m coming out of the worst of it. Bit by bit. I’ve been taking some prescription medicine that helps me sleep. When I’m less tired, I don’t hallucinate, and I’m not having the nightmares as often.” I lower my voice, even though I know the guard can’t hear us. “I’ve been hunting. A lot. It’s helped me. I think I needed that. Denying that need, on top of everything else that happened, might have been what tipped me over the edge.”
“So you’re better now?” she prods.
“Yes. I am.” I’m better now that I’m in the room with Tamara. Sending her away was a stupid, unforgivable mistake, and I am grateful beyond words that she’s agreed to let me see her. The dull fog of despair that’s been clinging to me is lifting. I can see more clearly now than I have in ages. “I’m going to be with you right through the trial. We’ll get you moved to a halfway house, I’m completely confident of that. And then I’ll see to it that they fast-track you for early release. Are they treating you all right here? If not, I’ll get you moved to another facility.”
“I can’t wait for the trial. I need you to get me out right away,” she says in a low voice.
“Why? Is someone hurting you?” A supernova of fury flares up inside me.
She grabs my hands and clings to them. The guard pretends not to see.
“Promise me you won’t leave me.” Her voice is low and intense.
“I promise.” My heart lifts with joy. “Never again. If you can put up with my fucked-up self, I’ll never leave you again. If the nightmares are too much, I’ll hire guards twenty-four hours a day to keep you safe from me. I’ll do anything. I’ll talk to a therapist, I’ll take medication—whatever needs to happen. I’ll build you a safe room if you need it. Or me. I’ll lock myself in a cage at night.” The words tumble from my mouth, one after the other, in a rush to grab her and bring her back to me.
Her eyes grow huge, tears spilling down her cheeks. “Promise me you won’t take her from me.”
“Take who?” Now I’m worried. Has she really lost her mind? When she killed those men, I thought she was doing it to get my attention. I didn’t think she’d gone crazy, but the look in her eyes right now is pure madness.
What have I done to her?
