by Dee Garcia
Fuck.
That imagery is beyond dangerous. If you thought my mind was running wild before, that’s literally nothing in comparison to what the last five hours have unleashed on me.
Another moan meets my ears but, this time, it doesn’t hold the same decadent ring. There’s this underlying hint of distress, one that peels my eyes open with a quickness.
“No,” she mewls, rolling off me. “Not again.”
What?
Picking my head up off my arm, I glance down at her small frame. She’s got her arms up as if she’s fending something off, eyes scrunched together tightly.
“Let go. No, let go!”
Her head swings from side to side, restless legs kicking about.
This. This right here is exactly how I found her in that damned dungeon. What the hell is she dreaming about?
But I don’t get the chance to ask because mere moments later, I see it.
Blood.
A vibrant scarlet puddle soaking into the white cotton sheet beneath her.
“Wendy, wake up!” I croak, heart shooting up to my throat as I shake her awake.
♫ Start a War - Klergy & Valerie Broussard ♫
Gasping.
I wake up gasping to Tavi’s voice, again. The concerned brow I saw hours prior is still there, only magnified by a thousand now. He’s not even just concerned. Judging by what I see reflected back at me in his dark brown eyes, it’s clear that whatever he's just witnessed has left him horrified.
“I need to get you inside," he blurts in urgency. "You’re bleeding.”
I heard him, I swear I did, but I’m still reeling from another mind-numbing episode of sleep paralysis.
Because that's what this is. There’s no denying it now.
Tie that in with overall fatigue after the trek through the island and my brain is struggling to focus.
“You’re bleeding.” Tavi squeezes my hands, beckoning the attention of my stare. “I need to get you inside, okay? There’s a doctor here. I’ll take you to him as soon as—”
You’re bleeding.
I see the words reflected in his eyes, flinging me past simple realizations and right into over-analyzing. My heart drops to the very pit of stomach.
It can't be.
But it is. I don’t need to see the crimson source to know where it’s coming from. I can feel it, this sick warmth slowly spreading beneath me, forever tainting my favorite blue nightie.
Forever tainting me.
This isn’t the period I was expecting. Not quite a crime scene either, but it’s a lot. Enough to worry you when instincts are suddenly raging, blaring with a reality you hadn’t even considered could be possible prior to this very moment.
“I’m going to need to see that doctor,” my voice cracks as I refocus on Tavi’s now severe face.
I know what to do in this situation, learned all about it in my schooling, but I need the confirmation.
I need to hear a doctor tell me I’m miscarrying Peter’s baby.
Tavi sets me on my feet within the small foyer of his home before clicking the locks in place. It’s dark and quiet, just as you’d expect a home to be this early in the morning. He wastes no time after kicking off his trainers, carefully guiding me past the living room and the kitchen, down the small hall, and into the cramped bathroom where he lowers me onto the toilet.
“Should I draw you a bath? Would you prefer a shower?” he murmurs anxiously, his voice almost a whisper.
“A shower is perfect.” I wave him off, offering the best smile I can manage.
As appreciative as I am of him and all he’s done for me up to this point, I just want to fully process this disaster in my own company.
Is that so much to ask?
“Can you even stand for a shower?” he presses.
“Of course I can. I insisted on walking but you wouldn’t let me, remember? I’m not dying, Tavi.” I'm aiming for nonchalance, but it does nothing to lighten the mood.
He's on edge, running on pure adrenaline. “And how would I know that? You seem to know what’s happening but won’t speak of it with me. I can’t properly help if you don’t—”
“I’ve got it,” I blurt, reaching for his hand to soften the blow of my resistance. “It looks way worse than what it is, I promise. I’m just going to take a quick shower and clean up.”
His lips settle in a thin, harsh line, patience likely running thin. I’m waiting for further objection, bracing myself for what exactly he could say, but it never comes.
What’s the point? He may claim to not know what’s happening, but I know he does. The man isn’t an idiot by any means.
He's awaiting confirmation much like I am.
“Fine. I’m sending my sister with a towel and clothes, though.”
I don’t get to respond. He’s cutting on the water and dashing out the door before the words even form. I won’t lie, my heart sinks at the thought of him being upset with me, and yet I can’t say I’d fault him if he were.
All he wants to do is help and I’m shying away, literally pushing him away.
I just don’t want to say the words aloud.
Not yet anyway. Perhaps once I know this is real, then I’ll be able to spill it all.
Kind of like the way my body seems to be doing right now. The cramping hadn’t been so bad back in the teepee, but I feel them coming on.
All I can hope for is that I’m thrown in the “lucky” group and pass this thing quickly.
Rising from the toilet, I go about the motions of undressing, then using my nightie to clean up what blood I've left behind on the seat.
And then the tears come, finally—right then as I toss the soiled garment into the small sink and take a good look at myself in the fogging mirror.
I nearly choke on my reflection.
Can’t recognize the woman who stares back at me. The dark bags beneath my eyes and the light film of dirt clinging to my skin only begin to scratch the surface of what I’ve endured on this island. It’s hard to look at her because seeing her in this state threatens to unleash that hell in a reel I don’t care to relive.
I just want to wash it all away.
Not how this works, I know, but I can try, right? Brief moments of reprieve are better than none at all.
It’s that thought that moves me into the shower. White curtain closing behind me, I drop my head beneath the spray, sighing at the relief the scalding water brings. Tears continue to roll and I don’t fight them. I set them free, release everything I’d been holding back in that dungeon.
Every tear I didn’t shed.
Every emotion I forced myself to repress.
All of it flows down the drain, melding with the remnants of dirt and blood shedding off my body.
Knock, knock.
A young woman’s voice follows; Tigerlily I presume.
“Wendy?” she calls softly.
I’m nervous to meet her, don’t want her to see my like this. I quickly tilt my head and scrub at my face, hoping I’ll appear more fresh and less sickly. Rubbing the water from my eyes, I poke my head out of the curtain and end up kind of just gaping.
She’s beautiful, all smooth caramel skin and long dark hair. Not shocking really—just look at her brother.
They have the same kind eyes.
“Hi.” I smile. “Tigerlily, right?”
She returns a friendly smile and nods. “Tavi said you were bleeding? Like menstrual bleeding?”
No.
“Basically,” I lie.
“He said it’s a lot, though? I’m sure he just meant heavy, yeah?”
“First day is usually the worst for me. Should start evening out in the next couple of days.”
“That sounds awful. Are your cycles always like this?”
“Not this extreme but yeah, it—uh, it blows.” Another lie. “I’m guessing it may have something to do with the whole portal thing? Maybe even the few near-death experiences while they had me locked up.”
That on
e’s not a lie.
Tigerlily’s eyes widen in alarm. “They hurt you?”
“Not all of them, no. Tinksley was at the head of it all, forcing me to nearly jump to my death, but I think it’s probably more related to the unpleasant encounter with one of theirs the night they brought me over. Lost quite a bit of blood as a result. It’s my fault, I suppose. I tried working my charm on him in hopes he might set me free and—”
“Who was it?”
“His name is Armand.”
Her eyebrow arches. “Oh, yes, I know him. He’s quite vicious, had plenty of encounters with him myself when I was paying off my brother’s debt. I’d venture to say you’re probably right.” On the small counter, she sets down what looks like a turquoise dress and an actual sanitary napkin—something I didn’t think they’d have here. “I’ll leave you to finish up, okay? Hopefully, my clothes will fit. If you need anything else, just holler—my dad’s up already.”
And then she’s gone.
Mouth popped open, I stare at the door for several seconds before slinking back behind the curtain, allowing the water to pelt the top of my head. She was a prisoner, too? Is that why Tavi felt so strongly about freeing me—because it hit close to home?
The more important question is, what did he do? She said she was paying off his debt, much in the same way I was doing for Peter. Is this what dates back to their opposition, or does it stem even further back?
So many questions, not enough—
“Are you crazy? I’m not taking her back there!” I hear Tavi yell suddenly.
His dad.
Tigerlily said he’s awake.
“You have to!” his father returns, prompting me to speed through the remainder of my shower as best I can with my heart thrashing and another wave of cramps rolling through.
Not five minutes later, I’ve dressed in Tigerlily’s clothes and find myself padding down the hallway to listen in, droplets of water spilling onto the wooden floors from the drenched ends of my hair.
Drip.
Drip, drip.
“You don’t seem to understand how bad a situation this is, Tavi.” The man speaking is undoubtedly his father. His voice booms through the house, flattening my back against the log wall. “They’re probably already looking for the girl. If the Captain finds out it was you who—”
“I’m not afraid of him, dad,” Tavi growls. “And I never will be. I don’t get why you are.”
“It’s not fear, son. It’s called respect. I respect him just as he does me.”
“Respect you?” Tavi laughs dubiously. “You think he respects you? Are you shitting me? He had Lil in there, too, and she was as innocent as Wendy!”
“Number one, watch how you talk to papa,” Tigerlily chimes in, her voice even yet stern. “You may be the Alpha around here, Tav, but he is the Chief, and most importantly—your father. Be respectful. Number two, do you ever listen? I mean, really? How many times do I have to tell you the same thing? They didn’t have me in a damned dungeon! I didn’t even know they had one. They certainly didn’t treat me like a prisoner, either, so whatever Wendy went through does not coextend to my experience.”
“No, he doesn’t listen,” their dad cuts in. “Which is exactly why he keeps finding himself in these situations.” His tone, while still intimidatingly deep, reveals a heap of disappointment.
Silence follows it, lingering uncomfortably in the air.
I’m tens of feet away and it’s somehow suffocating me, churning my stomach through the tension. The knowledge that I’m hearing this transpire because of me is the most sickening part. Those godforsaken weak tears build in the back of my eyes, threatening to spill.
“Na, that’s not dad,” Tavi scoffs moments later. “Dad would be fretting over the poor woman who was wrongfully taken from her home and locked up like some animal. I don’t know who this is.”
“A tired man,” his dad sighs. “First, you nearly slaughter his men. Had your sister not come to your aid, had she not offered so valiantly to stand in your place, they would’ve slaughtered you. Following her deal, I discarded your birth right to take my place the day I die as punishment for your senseless actions, no less—and yet here we are again, facing a possible war against the same man. You’ve taken something from him that doesn’t belong to you and you need to—”
“She’s not his! What part of that don’t you understand? He and Tinksley forced her through the portal after Tinksley had her revenge on Peter!”
“Whatever their reasoning is, it’s not your business!” the Chief roars, slamming a hand down against a hard surface.
“They made it my business when they threw her in the dark and ignored her cries!” Tavi roars back, his chair scraping against the floors. “Do you know how disturbing it was to walk onto his property and immediately pick up on such horrorized screams that no one else seemed to hear? Would you have just ignored them?”
“No, but I would not have gone investigating, either. I would’ve asked him directly.”
“Oh yeah, sure—great plan, dad. Let me tell you how well strolling up beside the leech and straight up asking him where those screams were coming from was going to turn out. Please.”
The tension rises, forcing another lull between the feuding family. It’s so palpable, I don’t need to see their faces or body language to picture the scene. I can see it so clearly, I’m cringing in my own skin.
All because of me.
It’s not long before the Chief releases another heavy sigh and continues driving the nail in the coffin. “It hurts my heart deeply to know that the son I once believed had such potential, the potential to be one of the greatest leaders our land has ever seen, has become nothing more than this reckless, irrational, disrespectful being. You need a good, long think, son. A good. Long. Think. Analyze yourself, your intentions, your morality, your actions. As your sister said, you may be the Alpha, but that doesn’t mean you’re leading the pack on the right path.”
“Are you kidding me right now?” Tavi snaps.
“I wish I was, but you need a serious reality check, and part of that check will be me forbidding that woman to stay in this house. For years, our main goal was to rid Rosewood of Pan’s presence. Regardless of the fact he’s dead now, she’s connected to him and I don't want even the slightest remnant of that vile ingrate here."
Streams of grief and disgust just seem to fall down my face. I couldn’t quell them another moment if I tried. I’m not crying because his father doesn’t want me here, I’m crying because everything about Peter really is true. It’s not that I didn’t believe what Tinksley and Hook shared—I guess I was just holding onto the hope that Peter was the man I loved and not the monster they made him out to be. That his murder was truly unjust and they were the monsters.
Monsters that abducted me and forever altered me in ways I wish didn’t exist.
But it’s all true.
And I’m miscarrying his baby.
"I wish you could hear yourself, what you're saying. I almost can't believe you're standing there, spouting this at me without true realization of how ridiculous it sounds. She is not him, dad. She may have been involved with him, but I can guarantee you she was as much a victim as Tinksley."
"Oh, I hear myself, loud and clear,” his dad counters, “and the answer is still no. I don't care if you like it or not, she will not stay here."
"Not a problem, I wasn’t counting on it. At this point, I don't know that I want her to stay here, anyway. She's already been through enough. The last thing I'm trying to do is force her to stay in a place where she's unwelcome. Don't sit there and worry about where I am when I don't come home, though. If you need me, you can rest assured I'll be with her until she makes it home," Tavi sneers, shooting a hand up to my mouth to avoid the sob trying to break free.
"You guys, come on, don't do this," Tigerlily pipes up again, audibly jumping to her feet. "We're family. Family sticks together no matter what."
"Blood isn’t always thicker
than water. Remember that, lil’ sis. Right now, my priority is Wendy. I made her a promise and you know my word is always solid."
"Not for everyone across the board, son,” the Chief retorts without hesitation. “Your word is only solid to those you deem fit, because you promised me that you would try harder, that you would do better, and like I said, here we are, back at square one."
"What's sad is that I don't care what you think, not right now anyway. I know what my word means and what I stand for. So here’s something for you to think about. You may be disappointed in me, but you know what? I'm disappointed in you, too, Pa. The father I grew up looking up to would've never done Wendy like this."
I hear his footsteps. I know he’s about to catch me standing in this hallway, but I can’t move. I’ve got both hands clasped tightly over my mouth as I just stand there and weep. The last week, two weeks, however long it’s been, of my life have been a non-stop nightmare. Aside from meeting Tavi, every single moment has been a damned nightmare I can’t wake up from. And now I have to live with the fact I’m causing a rift between a family, too, all because I’m here?
Somewhere I was dragged to in the first place?
I just want it to stop.
“Fuck,” Tavi hisses. He’s seen me, obviously, and he rushes me, swallowing me in a safeguarding embrace. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” It’s a whisper in my ear as he squeezes tighter.
I want to tell him that I don’t care, that my tears have nothing to do with his dad, but the emotional deluge is stronger than I’d let myself believe.
It’s too much, it’s all too much.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he suggests.
And we do.
He doesn’t wait for me to respond, either—he simply leads me out, shielding me from what I can sense is one hell of a penetrating, disapproving stare.
Slamming the door behind us, he then helps me down the porch steps as another piercing cramp tightens my pelvis and a small gush spills from within me.
My entire body jars at the nauseating wetness.
This is real. It’s really happening.
Mind racing with thoughts of denial and acceptance, I don’t allow myself to dwell on it. I shove it all aside just like everything else these days and keep it moving.
