“Look inside,” Kaden coaxes, his eyes sparkling.
Flipping up the lid, I find an ornate skeleton key tied to a long ribbon and a leather-bound book with embossed gold-foil lettering. It’s a book of fairytales.
“The book is from me,” Maggie explains. “It’s the real fairytales, not the puffy, pathetic versions. And Kaden found the box in Germany.”
“For our letters,” he explains. “And you can wear the key that locks it—that way, I’ll always be with you. You can put it on something more secure than the ribbon if you’d like.”
Kaden removes the key and drapes the ribbon around my neck.
“It’s beautiful,” I croak, tears cascading down my cheeks. “I’ll never take it off.”
I’m utterly ashamed for ever questioning Kaden’s love and devotion or Maggie’s friendship. The thought that I believed they could ever betray me makes me sick to my stomach.
I grapple Maggie into a fierce hug. She yelps in surprise. And I smother Kaden in a completely inappropriate kiss that makes Maggie whistle, impressed by my brazenness—for once.
“I love you both,” I exclaim. “Thank you for loving me too.”
There are more tears when Kaden leaves. He kisses me a thousand more times, promising to call in the morning, as early as Parker wakes. Maggie offers to stay the night, which I take her up on, not wanting to be alone. At least, not in my room. It’s impossible to truly be alone among the Harrisons.
Olivia makes me tea, and Niall keeps the boys occupied—to allow my heart time to heal.
The wind picks up just after the boys go up to bed, the once-impending storm finally making its debut.
“Oh, Kaden left the lights on at the cottage,” Olivia announces when I enter the living room where Maggie and I are planning to watch movies with a huge bowl of popcorn that she’s currently preparing in the kitchen, determined to do it the “old-fashioned way” over the stovetop, promising it will be the best popcorn I’ve ever had.
“I’ll go,” I say, sliding my sandals on.
I’m out the door before anyone can protest, not that I’d expect them to. This isn’t the weather for two pregnant women to be traipsing out in, and Niall is still upstairs, reading to the boys.
The wind blows me back as soon as I step clear of the patio. My hair whips around my face as I follow the familiar path to the cottage. The rain has yet to fall, but I can feel the heaviness in the air, threatening to unleash a deluge.
I rush as fast as I can, wanting to be back at the main house before the sky opens up.
Shutting the door behind me, I walk toward the room. I freeze when I find Damon seated in the dark on the couch with his feet propped up, facing the window that looks out on the storm-enraged sea. I stutter in my steps, not wanting to be anywhere near him.
I turn to leave without saying a word. Hoping he hasn’t noticed me.
“Did you like what you saw?” he asks.
I swallow, unable to move.
A board creaks. I reach for the doorknob, my hand shaking from either nerves or cold—I’m uncertain.
“Well, did you?” He’s right behind me. His hot breath on my neck, the burning smell of liquor wafting up my nostrils.
I open the door. He slams his hand against it, shutting it with a resounding bang.
“I didn’t know you were here,” I say quietly.
“But you had to look.” His body is pressed against my back. I take a step forward, but an arm traps me against him. “You thought I might be him, screwing your friend, didn’t you?” His mouth brushes against my ear. “Already done that.”
“Let me go, Damon.” I force my voice to have more strength than is felt within my quivering body.
“I don’t think so,” he mutters, nudging my chin to the side to suck on my neck.
I attempt to twist out of his grasp, but he binds me with his other arm, pinning my limbs to my sides.
Damon picks me up and remains unaffected by my kicks and screams as he carries me into the bedroom. The only room with the lamp still on. He grips my hair at my scalp, ripping hair from its roots. Tears flood my eyes. He yanks my head back so that I’m forced to view our reflection in the mirror. I’m paralyzed by the terror staring back at me. Tears drip from her chin.
“You like to watch?” He lowers his mouth to my neck.
I sob loudly, whimpering, my body quaking. I fight to break free. His hands bruise my skin. My twisting and thrashing exhaust me while they strengthen him. The more I resist, the more eager he becomes.
“Please don’t,” I plead, choking on the bedding when his weight presses me into it, his hand gripping my wrists behind my back. My shoulders strain, and my skin burns. “No, please, no.” But my words hold no power. They are as useless as the muscles, too weak to fight with affect.
And so … I don’t.
I stare blankly at the vacant eyes of the girl in the mirror as he jerks my head back, tearing more hair from my scalp—forcing me to watch. The world rages outside. But inside of me … there is silence. I have locked away every emotion. The anger. The fear. The sadness. Secured in a vault hidden deep within. Safeguarding the key. Leaving a hollow shell of a girl to his abuse. His violation.
Time slips while everything remains frozen, trapped in this moment—as posed as a picture.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
Time collides with the rush of movement, snapping me back to the present. The sound of a zipper as Damon fastens his pants. Maggie’s wide eyes in the mirror. I scurry to cover my nakedness, previously unaware he removed my dress. The mirror reflects the floral pattern pooled on the floor.
“Why would you do this to me?!” she screams. “He was mine! He chose me!” She inhales a jagged breath. “You can’t just take whatever you want away from me!” And then she’s gone.
Damon’s sour breath wafts in my face. “Keep your mouth shut.” There is a threat simmering in his eyes—where a monster resides.
I stare back, recognizing the face of evil, afraid to move.
He is gone. Chasing after Maggie as she races up the stairs. I lie still for a time unknown, staring at nothing as my body pulses and burns. Their volatile words cut through the air like swift strokes of a blade.
“Faye,” a quiet voice calls to me. “Sweetie, let’s get you dressed, okay?”
I blink.
Julia is crouched in front of me, her eyes shimmering. “Can you sit up for me?”
I slowly rise from the mattress.
Maggie screams above us, “I’m having your fucking baby! And you’re down there, screwing her?!”
“Shut the fuck up!” Damon shouts.
The boards bow beneath stomping feet. The wind rattles the windowpane. A gust of cold air rushes through the house.
“Where the hell are you going? Are you fucking crazy?” Damon hollers over the wind that continues to wreak havoc.
A door slams. The voices are swallowed up.
The fabric scratches my skin as Julia coaxes it over my head, guiding my head through the strap. Her attention averts to the ceiling. Her face is stricken with panic when a resounding boom echoes through the house.
“Can you make it back to the house?” she asks, her voice quaking. She gently sets a hand on my elbow to prompt me to walk out of the room. I nod. “Go to Olivia. She’ll take care of you. We’re going to take care of you, Faye. I promise.”