Page 11 of Wicked Revenge

“They’re called Shadows, not angels,” she says, rolling her eyes at me as we take a seat back at the table. I spread the files out in front of us. “Angels definitely don’t get my panties wet like these masked men do.”

“Ella!”

I swat at her, but I’m smiling ear to ear for the first time since coming back here.

“What can I say, masked men on motorcycles with bad boy vibes and a hero complex just do something to my kitty, I make no apologies,” she just smirks at me in reply.

***

Ella ended up staying with me all night. We laid in my bed while she caught me up on everything I’ve missed.

I told her a little about my stay with Aspen in White Harbor. A lot can happen in five years.

Apparently, during the three years I was held captive, the Kingsmen grew bolder, and things got worse in this town.

Before everything happened, I remember Grams telling me to be careful, but I don’t think she ever truly knew how dangerous the Monster– King– and his men were.

They were well-known around town back then. People looked at them as saviors, protectors even, not a gang of dangerous criminals. No one ever suspected they were capable of murdering an old woman and kidnapping her granddaughter.

Turns out, everyone in Shadow Forest thought my mother had something to do with it. I guess they assumed she murdered her own mother and took me with her because no one has seen her since I was taken.

My mother was never really in my life growing up anyway, but I am curious as to where she is now. Why did she disappear at the same time I did? She’s had a problem with drugs since before she got pregnant with me.

Grams was the one who raised me since I was born. When my mother came around, it was to get money for drugs or she needed a place to stay for a night or two, and then she was gone again.

She barely acknowledged I existed, but Grams more than made up for the love lost there. She was more like an older rebellious sister than a mom to me.

Ella and I fell asleep sometime early this morning, as the sun was beginning to rise and peak through my curtains. Judging by the light shining through, I’d say it's about noon.

I’ve been lying here staring at the ceiling for a while now, thinking about everything I didn’t tell Ella last night. She knows I went through severe trauma in captivity and a little about my time spent in White Harbor. I just couldn't bring myself to relive every detail. I will tell her eventually, but I haven’t told my story since I met Aspen.

I’ve spent the last two years shoving it down and focusing all of my energy on training and preparing for my revenge. If I open up that locked box of memories, I am terrified I’ll find myself spiraling into a deep, dark hole of depression again.

I can’t afford to lose focus now. Not when I am so close to bringing King down for good.

Deciding that I can’t lay here any longer, I ease out of bed, careful not to wake Ella. She doesn’t have to be at work until later this afternoon, so I’ll let her sleep a while longer.

Quietly making my way to my bathroom, I carefully shut the door and stand in front of the mirror above the sink. My emerald green eyes and messy hair stare back at me.

When we were dressing for bed last night, Ella had a fit when I finally untucked my fiery red curls from my hood. The last time she saw me, my hair was naturally blonde, almost white. The unruly locks reach my waist, sticking up in every direction from my sleep.

Twisting them into a high bun on top of my head, I make my way to the shower, adjusting the water to nearly boiling hot, and slipping out of my nightshirt and shorts.

I stopped looking at my body a long time ago. My scars are a road map that remind me daily of the hell I endured. I survived, and that’s what really matters, but I can’t help feeling damaged. I used to dream of meeting a man, falling in love, and giving myself to him. Now, I don’t think anyone could ever want me like that.

No, I’m destined to be alone. I’ll have my friends, like Snow and Ella, and I’ll reconnect with the people I once knew. But at the end of the day, I’ll come home to an empty house, and that’s okay. King stole my innocence and turned me into something much worse than even he could imagine. For the things I have done and am about to do, I deserve to be alone.

Stepping into scalding hot water, I close my eyes, allowing the heat of the water to consume me and my negative thoughts. I won’t allow myself to wallow in self-pity about the future that was stolen from me.

I will never get back what I lost, or live a life most would consider normal, but I’ve made my peace with that. I’ll spend the rest of my life protecting those who are like I once was, naive to the dangers lurking in the shadows, so they can live happily ever after.

That is enough for me.

***

Standing in my kitchen, I hear Ella finally roll out of bed. Literally. She hit the floor with a loud “umph” before groaning out, “What the fucking hell?”

I chuckle from my spot at the stove, reheating the stew she brought over last night. I see her emerge from my room, her blonde braid is sleep rumpled, with strands of hair falling loose from their confines, and the t-shirt and shorts she borrowed from me are twisted around her body.