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She can’t be with me because of her fear of spiraling into a world of crime, of feeling how she’s felt ever since the day that boy died.
And I can’t be with her because I’m still so messed up from what my dad did, the breach of trust, and the aftermath that followed, I can’t even watch her share an innocent dance with my baby brother without turning into a jealous monster.
She’s turned me good. I don’t want to turn her bad.
This fleeting moment in the afterglow of our makeup sex, where I could picture us together, seems to vanish as quickly as it came on.
She falls asleep, her breaths coming soft and sound. Careful not to wake her, I reach down, unclasping the bracelet. I slide it onto her arm, having to wrap it around a fourth time to fit her slender wrist. I clasp it, knowing when she wakes, she’ll have a part of me with her.
Because now, with no reason to keep her for her own safety, it’s time for me to let her go for the very same reason.
Her safety.
Even if she did offer me the healing I so needed, she’s still so much better off without me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Kitt
It’s strange, being back at the lodge after all this time. There were times when I was trapped at his house that I wanted to be here so badly, I could almost hear the squeak of Fiona turning over in the bunk above me.
Now that I’m here, all I want is to be back in his arms.
The summer is coming to an end. Unless I can stomach calling my mom and diving into a world of debt, I have no college to go back to. And I have no visa to stay here once the internship is over.
There’s no way I’m moving in with Mom and Joe after the conversation I heard between them. My stomach goes sick, realizing… I’m not even sure my mom would let me move in with them.
She’s started a new life with Joe. I can picture me asking her. Her coming up with some sad excuse of why I can’t. I have too much self-respect to put myself in a situation where I’m rejected by my own mother.
What did I learn when I was his captive? All those moments of self-loathing when I wanted to get away but couldn’t? I learned that I can’t wait for someone else to save me.
Unable to sleep, I crawl out of my bottom bunk. Grabbing Fiona’s long pink cardigan from the bedpost, I slip my arms into the sleeves, wrapping it around my body for warmth and comfort.
It reminds me of the blanket I left behind. Folded neatly at the foot of my bed—correction—his guest bed.
I move out to the common area, firing up an old computer. I know what I need to do. And unlike after Teddy’s death, or Clive’s, when I was so confused, this time I know exactly what to do.
Three hours later, a full sunrise is coming up over the hills. The proposal I’ve invested countless hours in is now floating somewhere in cyberspace, headed to its destination. Stretching my sore fingers, I go to the window to watch the dazzling sunrise reflecting over the water.
I put the kettle on, starting toast and eggs for everyone. Slowly, the interns appear, one by one, rubbing sleep from their eyes.
They’ve missed me, they say, they’re glad to have me back for the short amount of summer we have left.
Fiona comes out, wearing my green sweater. It looks beautiful against her hair and complexion. Her face breaks into a smile as she spots me. “This is what you get for stealing mine.”
“Keep it,” I say, handing her a cuppa white with milk. “It looks prettier on you.”
“Only if you keep that one. Pink makes the boys wink, you know.” She pulls me in for a side hug, careful not to spill her tea. “I’m so happy to have you back. We all are.”
“Me too,” I say. And I am. Only the enthusiasm doesn’t quite reach my tone. “How’s Carol Ann doing with the not-going-to-Glasgow disappointment?”
Knowing I’m trying to keep the subject off my own disappointment, she says, “Carol Ann will be fine. She’s tough. But you, on the other hand, you’re the one I’m worried about.”
“Don’t worry about me,” I say.
“Come here.” Gently grabbing my arm, she pulls me to a quiet corner of the room where we curl up next to one another on a loveseat, the floral arms worn bare from summers of use.
“What is it?” I ask.
