Page 97 of Give Me Peace

“Love you, too.” I feel the burn of fresh tears but force them back.

“Take care of my brother, Tink,” Krew pleads, pulling me in for kiss. His lips are soft and warm against mine, momentarily distracting me from the shitshow we’ve been wading through for days. “I’ll check in later.”

And then they’re gone. I stand there, just inside my door, and stare at the man lying on my bed. He’s beautifully broken, but he’s mine. I hate what this is doing to him. My arrival in their lives shouldn’t be causing this much of a disruption. Significant others are supposed to better you, not make you worse. Right now, I’m struggling to see what I offer that could possibly be considered improvement.

I slide in beside Kash and rest my head on his chest. For someone who’s so active and present, it’s disconcerting to see him like this. Still and lifeless. If it weren’t for his heart thumping steadily beneath my ear, I’d start to worry. Try as I might, I can’t seem to doze off. I’m restless, anxiety causing me to toss and turn. I finally give up and slip off the bed. A bath might help relax me, but for some reason, my feet carry me to the closet.

I walk to the back, pausing as I bend to pick up the box containing my mother’s things. I slump down the wall and pull it across my lap. My brain is still working to up, but it’s clear what my heart needs—the comfort of my mom. I slowly pull the lid off, exhaling audibly as the contents come into view. I doubt I’ll ever be able to look at this stuff without feeling the unfair loss of her. I was robbed of so many years. We both were.

At the bottom of the box, I find the letter she wrote me. Her ‘one day’ hopes, all wrapped up in a small white envelope. My fingers hover above it as I swallow nervously. I can feel sweat dampening my palms because I know what I’m about to do. I’m going to read it, and that fills me with a plethora of emotions. Carefully, I pull the paper out and unfold it. Tears come hot and heavy from the first line alone.

My Dearest Saylor,

It’s strange, to be unsure of what you hope for in regard to your child’s life. If you’re no longer alive, I pray your death was quick and painless. I find peace in knowing your father would have been waiting for you. You might not remember him, but I have zero doubts you’ll know him one day. To experience his love is like nothing I’ve ever known. Your heart has always reminded me of him. I’m ashamed to admit this, but a part of me—the selfish, heartbroken mother—hopes when I die, you’ll be waiting for me. I miss you so much I can’t breathe some days. How do parents do this? I’m not alone in my grief. The loss of a child is not singular to me, but I can’t fathom how they go on. You’re a part of me, Saylor Elise. A part I cannot live without. I carried you inside me, endured hours of unmedicated labor. Becoming a mother was the scariest, most gratifying thing I’ve ever done. I don’t know how to exist outside of that. You can’t turn it off. But someone took that away from me. They ripped my heart from my body and I’ve been hemorrhaging ever since.

I press a hand to my mouth and bite back a sob. Tears flood my eyes, streaking down my cheeks in rivers. Oh, God. This is torture. Each word I read leaves one less remaining. Soon, there won’t be anything left. As much as I want to stuff the letter back inside the box and save the rest for another day, I can’t stop myself from finishing it.

If you are still alive, I need you to fight. If you’re reading this, then you’ve made it home. Whatever you’ve gone through, it won’t just disappear. That beautiful, smart mind of yours will try to turn against you, but you have to be stronger than that. Don’t let them win. Whoever did this to us will pay, but not at the expense of your peace. Get help, sweet girl. Live for the both of us. I’m so sorry I won’t be there to witness your comeback. Be brave and take control of the life you have left. You’re so much stronger than you know, and even if you can’t see me, I promise I’ll always be watching. Be kind to yourself and do what makes you happy. I love you now and forever. No matter what awaits me, you have and always will be my greatest joy.

Love,

Mama

I pull a hoodie from the hanger above me and press it to my face. My anguished scream in muffled by the dense fabric, but I vent my hurt—over and over—until my throat is raw and my tears have run dry. That’s all of it. Her very lost thoughts. I needed to hear them, but I’m not ready to lose that thread still connecting us. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting on the floor, but everything is numb. My heart especially. I stare at the wall in front of me, concerned by the nothingness growing inside me. I think I’m so overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, my mind is shutting down. Like it’s switched into preservation mode.

I’ve always felt too much, so it’s alarming. I’m sure Danielle would call it a coping mechanism; I did the same thing on the beach. After my angry outburst and berating them for thinking I’d do something dumb and dangerous if I knew about the postcards, I did exactly that. I lost all sense of reality, drifting away to a place the hurt couldn’t reach. The only thing to make me feel like me again, was Roan. I’ve been too in my head to give much thought to what happened between us. The things he did, the way he touched me, all while Lochlan watched…it was impossible to not be present. I want that again. I need to fill this void.

With my mind made up, I wipe my face and put the box back together. Once everything is stored properly, I leave the closet. On my way out the door, I stop by the bed and place a kiss on Kash’s lips. I can almost taste the sucker he had in his mouth this morning. I should crawl back in beside him, try to sleep off my lack of feeling. Instead, I throw caution to the wind.

I doubt this is what my mom had in mind when she told me to be brave.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Saylor

After searching his office and coming up empty, I slip inside the twins’ room and quietly shut the door behind me. I lean my back against it as Krew exits the bathroom, steam billowing around him from the shower he just finished. I feel like we’ve been here before. He’s wearing nothing but a towel, his cut stomach on glorious display. My eyes drink him in as he comes to a stop a few feet in front of me. His head cocks to the side as he assesses me, likely wondering what I’m up to. With deft fingers, I flip the lock on the door. Krew’s eyebrow arches at the sound.

“You sure you want this, Tink?” Krew questions, taking slow, measured steps towards me. He pulls the towel from his waist to dry his hair, leaving him completely. My gaze drops automatically, taking in the parts of him I’ve never seen. My throat tightens as I fixate on his cock. There’s a barbell piercing through the tip of it, and the longer I stare, the harder it gets. “I won’t fuck you nice and slow. In fact, it’s going to feel like torture by the time you’re begging me to let you come.” I shift from one foot to the other, affected by his words alone.

“You won’t hurt me.” My voice is quiet but filled with surety.

“Even if I do, you’ll like it,” Krew retorts smugly, erasing the last few inches between us. His fingers twine around the ends of my hair, gripping it tightly so he can tilt my head back. “By the time I’m done with you, this pussy will be dripping, desperate for my cock to fill it. You want that, princess?” He punctuates the question with another tug, teasing me with his free hand. I hesitate, embarrassed by his words more than anything. I might be unsure of what he plans to do or the experience he has, but I’m certain I want him. I nod my agreement, but he’s not satisfied with my nonverbal answer.

“Say it,” Krew demands. “Say you want my cock.”

“I want your cock,” I whisper shakily. Krew groans, his eyes rolling back as he licks his lips.

“Strip,” he instructs, stepping back to watch me. I swallow nervously but face the awkwardness head on. With a deep breath, I lift my sweatshirt over my head. I’m braless underneath, and Krew’s eyes hone in on my exposed flesh immediately. Next, I shimmy out of my leggings and panties, discarding them at the same time. We’re both naked as the day we were born, drinking each other in.

“Fucking exquisite,” Krew mumbles to himself. “Come here.” He lifts his chin, gesturing for me to come closer. I obey, my pulse thundering as I stop in front of him. “You trust me?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Krew leads me to his bed, guiding me down until I’m flat on my back and he’s hovering beside me. He pulls something from the nightstand, but I keep my eyes focused on him, willing my nerves to calm. With slow, deliberate movements, Krew places a kiss on each of my wrists. His watchful gaze never leaves mine as he pulls my arms above me. A second later, the silky feel of fabric binds my hands to his headboard. Panic shoots through me like a lightning bolt and I jerk to try and pull them free.

“Stop,” Krew demands, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’re okay. Focus on me and nothing else.” A whimper escapes me as my heart seizes and struggles to find the right rhythm. My mind latches on to the last time I was restrained, the scent of mildew and dirt making me woozy. “I told you I’d push you past your limit. You’ll hate me before this is over, but I promise to kiss it better.”

Krew brushes his lips over mine, the contact a sweet juxtaposition to the turmoil he’s causing. He gives me little time to voice my acquiescence or objection. His tongue invades my mouth, leaving no room for any other thoughts outside of him. We’re both breathless when he pulls away, a smug grin quirking his lips. With a look of sheer determination, he spreads my thighs roughly and buries his face between my legs. A strangled, ludicrous sound leaves me at the first brush of his tongue.