Page 128 of Break Out the Girl

The news of an approaching vehicle has sent her into a spiral of terror.

Fuck.

Over the last few days, Sky has started to open up about what she’d endured in the days after being snatched from Quo.

The horrors she endured before we reclaimed her from the grave.

She said one of the worst things was knowing what they planned to do with her. The Ménage Manor director had taken great pleasure in explaining how Sky had been chosen as the main prize for the hunt. And how she would be buried alive.

That cunt. I wish I could kill her all over again.

And Sky told us about the actual reality of being trapped in that coffin, deep in the ground.

“I didn’t want to be dug up, Rory. I’d made up my mind to peacefully let go. Just lie in the dark and wait for the end. But as soon as they nailed-up the coffin, and that first thud of earth hit the lid—I freaked.”

Her fingers are slowly healing. She’d torn off nearly every fingernail, wooden splinters had been embedded in each tip in her desperation to escape.

She has nightmares most nights, waking screaming and terrified.

“You’ve seen me in my tornado-form, sweetheart. I want you to know that you’ll always be safe in the eye of my storm,” I’d told her. “It can’t take away all the awful memories, but going forward, there will be nothing but peace, love, and hopefully lots of fun.”

But that had just made her sobs worse. “It’s not fair that I would get that and not Immy. He deserved a good life too. I miss him so much.”

“I know you do, honey. I wish you could have seen him when he shifted, it was so beautiful. I’m so sure he was experiencing a serene, pure joy. Imran knew perfect peace as he left us.”

As we huddle on the damp bedroom floor, tears prick at my own eyes.

Everything has been so fucking hard.

When will it stop?

When are we going to be able to live that serene existence I want so fiercely for us all?

When are we going to stop running, stop hiding, stop fighting?

The trailer door swings open, and I hear Basil yell his war-cry. “AHHHHHH!”

Fuck.

I shift Sky beneath me, burying her further in the soft toys, then silently crawl over the mattress. She’s gone completely silent, staring blankly into the middle distance.

“Get the fuck off me,” I hear Basil snarl.

Nope. No one touches our Basil, not on my watch.

In a flash, I’m out of the bedroom and in the main body of the trailer, ready to go tornado someone’s ass. But as I screech to a halt, all I see is Tally wrestling with Basil.

“Put down the iron, Bas, they’re friends.”

“Fuck that. They look like Conclave cunts to me. I’ll smash them.”

Hmm.

Looking past Tally, who I trust completely to handle the unruly twelve year old, I assess the visitor situation.

A black SUV with tinted, cracked windows is slowly pulling up next to the picnic table outside. As it turns parallel, I can see the driver through the open window, and my heart does a very complicated lurch.

It’s my brother.