Page 16 of Under Fyre

Fyre snaps the notebook closed between his fingers. “Why did that upset you?”

I pinch my bottom lip with trembling fingers. “I don’t know. I don’t like it. What is it?”

“Does any of it sound familiar?”

“What? No. Why would it? Who wrote it?” I close my eyes. “Whose wordsare those?”

When Fyre doesn’t say anything, I open my eyes again. “Gideon, please.”

“Peter Monroe’s.”

A cold shock flashes through me. I lean away, but there’s nowhere to go with the headboard so close to my back.

“I…don’t understand.”

Fyre’s dark eyes are on me again. I keep looking away, but I also keep being drawn back. Magnetic doom. Even though I don’t like what I see. Even though Ihatewhat I hear.

“This was one of the games he played with you when he had you locked in the Toy Box. Do you remember the Toy Box, Charlotte?”

There’s a buzzing in my ears. A vibration coursing through my bones. I’m shaking my head, but tears are spilling from my eyes.

The Toy Box.

Five Finger Fun.

A bright red dice bouncing, bouncing. A man’s hand, snatching it up, keeping it hidden.

The game was always rigged. Peter let me drink a few times so I was tipsy, and then I’d start losing.

Five fingers.

A whole hand.

A sob wrenches out of me, shaking my entire body. Fyre climbs onto the bed, draws me into his arms. I huddle into a ball, leaning into his warmth and his strength as he strokes my hair.

His touch wakes my body. Soothes my mind.

Soon I’m clutching him, burrowing my head into the crook of his neck.

“He can’t hurt you anymore,” Fyre whispers into my ear. “Say it.”

But I can’t. Because it’s too raw, too real, too fucking horrific. It’s like something has been torn down inside my mind, letting out a mass of crawling, creeping insects. Prickly legs, sharp pincers, piercing stingers. They’re digging into my mind, shredding my brain.

Fyre shakes me. “Say it!”

“He-he can’t hurt me.”

I don’t believe it, not for a fucking second. And somehow Fyre knows.

“He’s dead, Charlotte. I killed him. How can he hurt you if he’s dead?”

My fingers find the back of Fyre’s neck. I dig my nails into him, desperate to hurt him like he’s hurting me. Desperate to make him feel my pain.

“Say it.” Calm now, peaceful. His arms hold me even tighter.

“He…he can’t hurt me.”

“Again.”

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