Page 94 of Serpent & Saviors

I nodded, and a sob tore from my throat. He rose, took the book from my hands and placed it back in the box before engulfing me in his arms. He rocked me and rubbed circles on my back, calming me. His voice was soothing and low as he spoke in my ear. He sat down and pulled me onto his lap as he consoled me. Several minutes later, I could speak again.

“Remember the friends I once told you about? I’d like you to meet them. We made a promise to find one another one day. I was talking with Nikolai earlier, and he mentioned he’s a private investigator.”

His demeanor shifted. Leaning back in the chair, his eyes, which were so expressive, now held a deep focus. He was fully present in the moment, absorbing every word I said.

“You want to find them? Angel, I’d be happy to help in any way. Do you have names?” He titled my chin up.

“No, Sir, well except for one and no last name. But you have to start at the beginning. I’m warning you, it won’t be easy to read. It will sicken you, tear your heart out, rip it to shreds.” I paused and ran my fingers through his hair to ground myself. He placed a soft kiss on my wrist.

“Okay, thank you for the warning.”

His brow furrowed, mirroring the weight of my emotions. There was a permanent blaze of empathy in his eyes, a silent acknowledgement of everything I was sharing.

“I swear to you, everything in them is true. My fears, their fears, are all detailed out. I have a photographic memory, can memorize a song and play it perfectly after only hearing it once.”

“I believe you, angel.”

“Thank you. It will explain, on a deeper level some of my hesitancy to play piano. I was once a prodigy. And I transferred my ability to recall things into writing the day I decided to no longer play the piano.”

His lips drew my attention. The ones that always kissed me breathlessly and offered me words of comfort. He waited for me to continue. I leaned in and kissed him softly.

“If I show you this part of me, I need you to promise you won’t pull away. You have a quiet stillness about you, and I need that in my life. You make me feel heard and valued. I don’t want it to change. Can you promise me?”

“I promise nothing will change how I feel about you. The very fact you want to trust me with something as sacred as your inner thoughts floors me. You’re fucking brave and I’d be honored to meet you and your friends on page, but only if you’re sure.”

“I am. You remarked on the style of journals at Piccadilly’s. If you comb through the box, you’ll notice a pattern. Winter, Spring, Summer and Autumn. I was Summer. The first day I met them, I was introduced to them as their season names. Do you have tissues? You’ll need them at some point.”

“Will a handkerchief do?” he teased, pulling one from his pocket.

“Stay here,” I said, laughing. I made my way over to retrieve the box of journals. Each step both ways felt lighter and lighter. This was the right thing to do.

“I’m going to sit over there on the bed and write to Autumn in my new journal. We have a lot of catching up to do. Again, you’ll start here.”

I handed him Mischa’s journal. His large hands were wrapped around it protectively.

“When you read them, understand they are written chronologically. They follow me through the seasons, but each one will have highlights and memories specific to all of us. I hope you love them as much as I do.”

“I’m sure I will. If they are important and impacted you, then it matters. I’m honored you are letting me in.”

I shifted, a hint of nervousness overwhelming me. I put my hand on his. “You’re bound to have questions after you start. I will happily answer them to the best of my ability. If you can get through this first journal, some of those questions will be answered. But if at any point you want to stop and talk, I won’t run from it.”

He nodded solemnly, sensing the seriousness of the situation. So with those words, I left him in the chair by the fire. My hand shook as I settled onto the bed. I glanced over. He hadn’t opened the pretty pink journal with cherry blossoms on it yet and was just watching me.

My face flamed, and I wondered at what he did to me with merely a single glance. I turned over onto my stomach and picked up the pen once more.

With one more soft sigh, I finished the sentence I had started.

…complicated. I’m twenty-four now, which makes you twenty-two or twenty-three. Do you still draw and paint? I sure hope so. I promise I didn’t stop writing to you on purpose. There is so much I want to tell you.

Emotions soared inside my chest, but with each stroke of the pen on the page, the lost girl I’d become slowly found her way back. The weight of years and years of silence lifted from my heart. I poured out any and every emotion as it swept over me.

I wrote about the hell I’d endured living with Cameron, the obstacles, and everything in between. A newfound sense of determination settled deep in my soul. I reminded myself that I’d overcome so much. I was a survivor and would find my way.

I stared at the woman lying on my bed. Her willingness to share with me, and the extent she was, shook me. Her words from before seemed cryptic, almost. I struggled momentarily to differentiate between the haunting tone and how it coincided with boarding school friends, young ones at that.

And what on earth would I need tissues for? For whatever reason, she felt my heart was going to be ripped apart by the revelations. I shook my head and settled back in the chair. I looked at the worn pink journal. If I wanted to know, then I needed to get on with it. I cracked the book open, and my eyes landed on the date first.

Then time froze as I read the words right under it. They practically leaped out, attacking my senses in the address alone.