blue eyes, bloodshot and dry.
There’s no scar on my pale skin.
But there’s one on hers, and I can’t stop thinking about it.
That night I know she decided to leave.
It takes everything I have not to drive my fucking fist into the mirror. Everything not to open up the medicine cabinet and fucking swallowing everything in it.
I fucked her up.
I promised to look after her, to protect her. I promised no one would hurt her again, then I went and did just fucking that.
When we cross the border into Virginia, I feel sick. The last time I came north, this far north anyway, was with Nicolas. When we went to Julie’s house, then Lucifer had his hand wrapped over my mouth.
Later, at another house not too far from it, I learned the truth.
That Jeremiah, my brother, had assaulted me on Halloween night. Not Lucifer.
But I don’t say anything about any of that as Jeremiah and I ride in silence, his last words lingering in my head. “Same thing that’s gonna happen to you if you keep fucking playing with me.”
I glance at his left hand on the wheel, but I don’t see any sign of that tremor.
Swallowing down the sour taste in my mouth, the feel of my panic, I look back out the window at the mountains looming on either side of the highway, the bright, clear sky. It’s beautiful out, and the windows are still down, my hair blowing around my eyes, but it feels so good, I just don’t care.
I glance in the rear view and see Nicolas and Ria have caught up from Jeremiah’s fucking reckless driving bullshit hours ago.
“Where are we going?” I ask for what feels like the hundredth time without looking at Jeremiah.
There’s a moment of silence, and I think he just isn’t going to answer me. Typical. But then he says, “We’re almost there. I thought we could go hiking?” He phrases it like a question and my stomach flips.
Placing a hand on my belly, wondering when I can feel this baby kick, I turn to stare at him. “Really?”
I love hiking. Being outside, in nature.
But J never wants me to get too far, and sometimes, I can’t even blame him. When we split up as kids, the worst imaginable became of us. He won’t even talk about all of his trauma.
It makes me feel sick just trying to imagine it.
“Yeah,” he says, glancing at me, almost nervously, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “Really.” He shrugs. “I thought you’d like a getaway. We’re staying in a cabin.” I watch him swallow, his eyes on the road.
I frown. “Cabin?” Jeremiah is not the type to stay in a fucking cabin.
“Is that a problem?”
I smile to myself, shifting in my seat, running my hands over my thighs, feeling the holes in my jeans. “Not at all. I’m just surprised that you’d stoop so low.”
He laughs, and it’s dark. “When you see it, you won’t be surprised.”
Despite his words, when he said a “cabin,” I pictured something small, rustic. Charming, maybe. Nice and new, knowing him.
But what I didn’t imagine was this.
A long, winding driveway, floodlights flicking on as we approach even in the daylight. A two-car garage, stone and brick mansion with so many windows it reminds me of the Cullen’s hideaway in Twilight.
I dart my eyes to the thick forest that surrounds the house, the mountains looming in the distance, rising up against the bright blue sky.
Jeremiah pulls around the circular driveway, in front of the double doors, stone columns on either side. Nicolas called while we drove, and him and Ria are getting groceries.
I blink up at the house.
It almost reminds me of mine and Lucifer’s house, but…bigger.
Thinking of my husband, my chest tightens.
The misery threatens to sweep over me, but I push it back.
Back.
Still, I can’t resist glancing in the side view mirror as Jeremiah cuts the engine, gets out of the Mercedes. I take in my reflection, knowing the scar is there, but I can’t see it from here, it’s that small.
I reach for it, running my index finger over the soft ridge, thinking of the night it happened.
My stomach twists into knots.
I hear Jeremiah calling my name from the trunk of the car, probably getting out the bags he packed, but I’m not paying attention.
Suddenly, I’m back there.
It’s the type of sound that chills your bones. An inhuman cry followed by heavy gasps, the shift of the mattress and after that...his head buried in my shoulder, tears damp against