Page 37 of Unholy

The pad of my thumb rubs circles against Cecilia’s hand, it’s ice cold, likely from her injuries and lack of circulation.

Cecilia’s lips move and her teeth begin to chatter. Darian’s lips meet her forehead and hushed words are spoken, trying to coax her out of her nightmare.

It takes time, but her eyes start to flutter open and her body tenses. Right away she sees me and becomes breathless. “Who is she?” Cecilia says, panicked.

“No, baby. It’s okay, she’s with us. Rylee is here to see you. She’s your cousin,” Darian explains before my presence sends his wife into a panic attack.

Hesitation follows, rightfully so. It takes a few moments for his words to resonate with her. “Okay,” is finally whispered and relief washes over me. I never want to trigger anyone and it would have killed me if my presence did that to her.

“We are going to give you two some privacy. Darian and I will be right outside; no one is getting in here. I promise, Ceci. I would suggest your husband go home to shower because he stinks like sweaty boxers, but we know how that conversation will go,” Nathaniel tries to joke to lighten the mood. His hand is still on Darian’s shoulder, and he squeezes it. “Let’s go, brother.”

He nods, then makes sure this is okay with his wife. “Are you okay with that?”

She looks at the three of us, scanning the room. “I’m still so tired. But yes, just for a couple minutes.”

“Thank you,” I pipe up, still holding her frail hand. Cecilia’s head turns to me and a half smile forms on her face. At the same time, Nathaniel takes the spare chair and brings it over to me so I can sit. I don’t thank him, he needs to eat a bag of dicks before he hears those words from me.

Lowering to sit, I keep my focus on Cecilia but speak to the boys. “Go. Our five minutes of girl time has started.”

Darian is hesitant, scared, and nervous to leave his wife’s side, but he fights his internal voices and leaves, following Nathaniel. I wait until I hear the door closing before speaking. “They may be old, but they still have impeccable hearing, it has to be the hearing aid implants,” I joke. Her smile gets bigger. It doesn't quite meet her eyes, but it’s getting there.

“My cousin?” Cecilia quietly asks.

Not only is family new to me, but also to her. We both lost our parents because of The Exiled. Yay, trauma bonding.

I don’t dare say it out loud, I can be outspoken but I’m not a bitch on purpose… unless it’s Nathaniel.

“Yeah, Greta just told me last night. I lost my mom tothemtoo. I never knew the details, but always knew who was responsible.” My gaze falls, and my breathing slows. “Brad is—was—my father. We found out Dalton killed him recently. He and my mom... Then I was born, which technically made me his heir. But he had her killed, silencing Greta out of fear, and later Brad had Dalton. Which is why the Antichrist started; she wanted to avenge her daughter and stop The Exiled. We aren’t sure, but we think Dalton may know I am his sister, which threatens his throne. I’m staying at the Sinclair compound just in case,” I finish explaining, giving her as little detail as I can, to not overwhelm her all at once.

Looking back up, her face is neutral, but her lips are chapped. Reaching into my sweatpants pocket, I pull out my lip balm and ask, “May I?” She nods, accepting my help. I squeeze the tube and apply some of the contents onto my finger before lightly applying it onto her lips. This moment is intimate, not sexually, but a connection is forming and trust is building between us.

It’s my job to build trust, so it’s easy for me to read once it's established and this small, kind gesture has done so.

Her warm breath tickles my finger as the cracked skin on her lips scratches against my skin. She still has an open cut that I delicately go around.

“You will make it out of this and be okay. And I promise to be with you through it the entire time, whenever and as often as you need me. We are family. We stick together.” I’ve only ever had Greta; to have another family member is precious to me and I will not let this opportunity pass us by.

A single tear falls from her tired eyes, but I don’t swipe it away. It’s good that she feels and is allowing herself to.

Leaning back, her lips glisten and even with just that small change, she looks more alive.

“Cousins?” She whispers, still trying to grasp the concept I have had a head start on understanding.

“Cousins. I’m not sure how, but I am positive it involves some fucked-up family tree.” I laugh thinking about it. “And technically, I’m the Queen of The Exiled. Fucking insane.”

I notice her eyes move off of me and slowly shift to her hands. I follow her sight, wondering what she wants me to see. Cecilia rolls her hands over and I am shocked. It’s mortifying. Bandages cover the area, but clearly that savage nailed stakes into her palms when hanging her on the cross. In one quick movement, my body rises and the chair is pushed backward.

“We are going to kill him, cousin. He will pay for his sins.” I am enraged and unable to comprehend why this specifically prompts this powerful response out of everything I’ve seen or heard. But this is the last fucking straw for me.

Composing myself to not alarm or startle her, I relax my shoulders and look back at her softly. Her lip is quivering, and before I am able to apologize, she interjects, “Promise?”

The corner of my lip rises. This chick is a fucking badass. I am giddy with renewed excitement. “I’ll record it so you can watch it over and fucking over.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the boys join us back in the room, always knowing when to ruin the moment.

Darian must see Cecilia’s emotions riddled on her face because he rushes over, worried. Cupping her face gently, he looks helpless and defeated but also concerned. “What happened?” He is a man who is tired but is living and being strong for her, the love of his life. Cecilia is keeping him frombreaking down; she is giving him strength, and I’m not sure Darian realizes that.

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