Sharon,” I rasped. My voice sounded raw and torn, and I could tell that Sharon noticed the change because her eyebrows furrowed in concern. I could also tell that she was trying not to think of how I had ruined my vocal chords. “Where’s Cade?”
“Are you hungry?” she asked brightly, ignoring my question. “Thirsty?”
“I could use a shower,” I replied quietly.
I didn’t need food or company, and I didn’t need a pity party.
I just needed the water on my skin.
And Cade.
Water was the one thing I had craved since the police found me. I couldn’t get enough of the water cleansing me. I could stand under a showerhead all day, every day, for the rest of my life and not get enough.
“Well, head on up, Mickey,” my father said. “Take as long as you want – there’s plenty of hot water in the tank.”
I nodded once before turning towards the staircase and making my way upstairs. Reaching the bathroom, I felt relief when I realized it was in the same place it had always been. I opened the door and let myself inside.
Immediately I began to strip off my clothes. It still felt strange to wear so many layers, having spent three years practically naked. Standing naked in the bathroom, I took a glance in the mirror and looked at what all the fuss had been about.
I was not a tall person, 5’5” barefoot, but apparently I had sex appeal.
That was what Master used to tell me.
“Pretty sunshine …”
My hair was blonde and long, curling passed my breasts and bellybutton. I had green eyes and pink swollen lips. My breasts were firm and ripe, and my legs were long and lean.
I was marked with a tattoo – their mark. It distinguished me from all the others. It was a barcode, showing my value. I was worth a lot apparently.
The freckles on my nose were a permanent reminder of the blistering heat in the nest.
The sand beneath my fingernails …
The blood between my legs …
Shaking off those memories, I reached one hand into the shower and switched it on.
It took a few minutes to heat up – just as I remembered.
When the water was scalding – as hot as my body could possibly bear – only then did I get in.
Tilting my head back, I allowed the water to cascade down my body and for the first time since I left the hospital I felt steadier. It was a little fucked-up how much water could affect me, but I didn’t think too much about it. I didn’t think too much about anything anymore.
That was both my downfall and my saving grace.
The bathroom door opened and slammed shut loudly.
“Fuck,” a male voice roared, and I froze for a moment before automatically dropping to my knees, placing my hands palms out against the shower wall, and bowing my head.
No one came for me, and then I remembered: I wasn’t there anymore.
Raising my chin, I turned my head to one side and my breath caught in my throat.
Cade.
He was standing in front of the door, resting his forehead against the frame. His head was bowed and his shoulders were slumped.
I knelt, mesmerized, staring at the man in the bathroom. Three years had passed since I saw Cade and those three years had made drastic changes to his body. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. A beautiful man …
Broken or not, I could see that he was beautiful.
Cade let out a heavy sigh and I watched through hooded eyes as he removed his shirt, revealing his hard, flat stomach. I silently studied the five words Cade had tattooed on the right side of his ribcage in black ink.
“Nár lagaí Dia do lámh.”
The smell of him flooded my senses. Fresh air, the forest, deodorant, man, soap … My breath caught in my throat.
When he turned around, he froze.
His eyes were locked on my face.
He looked like he had just seen a ghost.
I felt like I’d seen an angel.
“Holy shit, Kenz,” he managed to croak out and his voice caused something inside of me to flutter and clench. His voice was deeper than I remembered. Huskier too. He sounded like a man now. “It’s
“Are you hungry?” she asked brightly, ignoring my question. “Thirsty?”
“I could use a shower,” I replied quietly.
I didn’t need food or company, and I didn’t need a pity party.
I just needed the water on my skin.
And Cade.
Water was the one thing I had craved since the police found me. I couldn’t get enough of the water cleansing me. I could stand under a showerhead all day, every day, for the rest of my life and not get enough.
“Well, head on up, Mickey,” my father said. “Take as long as you want – there’s plenty of hot water in the tank.”
I nodded once before turning towards the staircase and making my way upstairs. Reaching the bathroom, I felt relief when I realized it was in the same place it had always been. I opened the door and let myself inside.
Immediately I began to strip off my clothes. It still felt strange to wear so many layers, having spent three years practically naked. Standing naked in the bathroom, I took a glance in the mirror and looked at what all the fuss had been about.
I was not a tall person, 5’5” barefoot, but apparently I had sex appeal.
That was what Master used to tell me.
“Pretty sunshine …”
My hair was blonde and long, curling passed my breasts and bellybutton. I had green eyes and pink swollen lips. My breasts were firm and ripe, and my legs were long and lean.
I was marked with a tattoo – their mark. It distinguished me from all the others. It was a barcode, showing my value. I was worth a lot apparently.
The freckles on my nose were a permanent reminder of the blistering heat in the nest.
The sand beneath my fingernails …
The blood between my legs …
Shaking off those memories, I reached one hand into the shower and switched it on.
It took a few minutes to heat up – just as I remembered.
When the water was scalding – as hot as my body could possibly bear – only then did I get in.
Tilting my head back, I allowed the water to cascade down my body and for the first time since I left the hospital I felt steadier. It was a little fucked-up how much water could affect me, but I didn’t think too much about it. I didn’t think too much about anything anymore.
That was both my downfall and my saving grace.
The bathroom door opened and slammed shut loudly.
“Fuck,” a male voice roared, and I froze for a moment before automatically dropping to my knees, placing my hands palms out against the shower wall, and bowing my head.
No one came for me, and then I remembered: I wasn’t there anymore.
Raising my chin, I turned my head to one side and my breath caught in my throat.
Cade.
He was standing in front of the door, resting his forehead against the frame. His head was bowed and his shoulders were slumped.
I knelt, mesmerized, staring at the man in the bathroom. Three years had passed since I saw Cade and those three years had made drastic changes to his body. He wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man. A beautiful man …
Broken or not, I could see that he was beautiful.
Cade let out a heavy sigh and I watched through hooded eyes as he removed his shirt, revealing his hard, flat stomach. I silently studied the five words Cade had tattooed on the right side of his ribcage in black ink.
“Nár lagaí Dia do lámh.”
The smell of him flooded my senses. Fresh air, the forest, deodorant, man, soap … My breath caught in my throat.
When he turned around, he froze.
His eyes were locked on my face.
He looked like he had just seen a ghost.
I felt like I’d seen an angel.
“Holy shit, Kenz,” he managed to croak out and his voice caused something inside of me to flutter and clench. His voice was deeper than I remembered. Huskier too. He sounded like a man now. “It’s
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