Page 64 of Savage Hope

“I’m Tatum, and I’m familiar with that,” he states, drawing my attention back to him, but he’s not looking at me; he’s scratching away in his pad.

“With what?” I push, desperate for more.

“No parents.”

“Florentine’s?” I ask, positive I’ve never seen him before coming here, and he shakes his head.

“No.”

Silence seeps into the little bubble that wraps around the both of us, but there’s a burning desire deep in my gut that’s desperate to know more. What themoreis, I’m not sure, but I’m eager to find out.

“What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” he mumbles, not lifting his gaze.

“Can I see?”

“No.” His answer comes sharp and fast, drawing a thick line in the grass between us.

I should take it as a hint, but instead, I take it as a hurdle I can leap over.

“You’re happy to share your pain but not your art?”

I really should have taken the hint. Instead, I’m likely going to be taking my last breath if I don’t shut the hell up.

“That’s accurate,” he replies, unfazed by my questions.

“That’s…my level of sad,” I admit, unwrapping my arms from around my knees as I cross my legs, getting more comfortable instead of leaving.

“There are levels to sad?” he asks, tearing his gaze from his pad to spy on me, and I shrug.

“It feels like it.”

He nods, like my answer is enough for him to understand, even when I’m not entirely making sense of it myself.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re outside so late?” he presses, putting the cap back on his pen as he gives me his full attention, and I shrug, nervously tucking a curl of hair behind my ear.

“I was in a panic, and before I realized it, I was here.” I press my lips together, trying to halt the flood of words threatening to break the dam they’re forming. He stares, eyes searching, but he doesn’t push, and the air that lingers makes it clear there’s more to be said. “I was taken to a coven initiation.”

Dammit.

I press my teeth into my tongue, willing myself to shut up, but the way he looks at me, attentive, understanding, and patient, I can’t stop the words from coming. “They…I…he…I didn’t like it.”

He nods, lacing his fingers together in his lap. “Did you complete the initiation?”

I shake my head. “They were…forceful.”

Is that the right word? I don’t know.

“Forceful? Are you hurt?” His eyebrows gather, concern dancing in his eyes as they shimmer with a little glow again.

“Oh, uh, no, I don’t think so, I just…I panicked.”

Shut up now, Polaris.

“Panicked?” he repeats, and I nod.

“Yeah. They didn’t listen to me when I said no or wanted them to stop or even when I asked for more information. All that mattered was whattheywanted.”

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