He wrapped his arms tight around me, resting his chin on my head. “But there is truth in what they said. And you lied to them. You made it sound as if I was the hero in looking after you. That you were some damsel in distress, trapped in a valley, completely helpless. When...the opposite was true. You are the reason I survived. You’re the reason I’m here. You’re the reason I can look at myself in a mirror and not have the urge to smash it into a billion pieces because of the ghosts haunting me.”
I hugged him back. “It doesn’t matter how we met anymore, Kas. What’s important is that we did.”
He tilted my chin up, locking eyes with me. His stare lost some of its annoyance and confusion, softening to pure love. “I will never raise a hand to cause you pain again, Gem. I would rather carve out my own heart.”
I kissed him.
He kissed me.
And someone’s fist slammed against my door.
CHAPTER TWENTY
NOT FOR THE FIRST time, and definitely not for the last, did I count my lucky stars that I had Gem beside me during this transition.
Not once did she judge me for sleeping outside.
Not once did she question how I was or pry into thoughts I wasn’t ready to share.
She gave me space while also making me feel secure.
And for that, I loved her with every piece of my fractured soul. Our connection was probably the only reason I didn’t bolt back to the valley as soon as she opened the door and revealed two police officers. The moment I set eyes on two uniforms, instincts to run howled down my legs. The urge to hurt before I was hurt curled my fists.
An elderly woman with a tight black bun and a younger man with a bald head nodded at Gem, their gazes slipping past her to me in her living room. “Hello, Ms. Ashford. Mr. Sands. We’re here to continue the questioning that was started at the hospital? It won’t take long.”
Gem shot me a look, gauging my ability to come across as sane.
I hoped I hid the violence coursing inside me, praying that my concussion wouldn’t make me say or do something that would ruin the fragile peace I’d found.
I’d hated being interrogated at the hospital—I’d felt judged even while reeking of a fire that’d almost killed us. A fire that Jareth started—a man no one else knew existed. A man still out there, doing what I should be doing...saving our family.
It’d been so fucking hard not having answers. For eleven years, I’d believed my family got free that night, but in reality, they’d been recaptured and been serving ever since.
Christ, I felt sick.
My head pounded.
Perhaps having the police turn up was justice I deserved for not trying to find Sarez, Nyx, and the rest sooner. Poetic justice for my lack of ability to protect, not only them, but Gemma, too.
You promised her you wouldn’t say anything about anything.
Just like she’d made me stay quiet in her video, she’d made me promise to stay quiet around the police. She’d taken on the role of fact-giving to the cops that night in the hospital, vaguely mentioning Storymaker and giving a very brief description of what Fables had been, but apart from that...most of what happened there would never be uttered—for my safety and my family’s.
“May we come in?” the female officer asked.
I stepped backward, fighting the urge to leap through the open door and vanish.
Gem noticed and came to my side. Taking my sweaty hand in hers, she nodded primly. “We were heading out, but we have a few moments to spare.” Waving at the couch, she smiled. “Please, sit down.”
Was that a lie, or had she genuinely been planning on taking me somewhere?
Was I ready to go somewhere?
Fuck, the room wobbled a little as my headache grew worse.
The two uniforms stepped into Gemma’s home, wiped their shiny shoes on her doormat, and went to the couch. Gemma took the opposite chair while I stayed standing. Holding her shoulder, I shadowed her from behind.
My heart galloped. More sickness swarmed. Whiteness blanked over my vision for a heartbeat, threatening to steal this particular memory, linking it to other people in positions of power, stealing the life and liberties of a kid who hadn’t been able to fight back.
The vow of silence Gem had made me promise forbade me from talking about what I’d done to her and what’d happened to the bastards of my past. Both were to protect me. I knew that. But it didn’t mean I felt right about it.
A part of me craved punishment for what I’d done to Gemma. Historical conditioning ensuring that I needed discipline and chastisement. But the other part of me understood that I hadn’t been in control of myself back then. People wouldn’t comprehend what a struggle it’d been to shed off the skin I’d been wearing.