Page 119 of Captured Immune

Trey paces the room. “He’s probably the goddamn Royal who organized the murder of my parents. He kidnapped my girl, then he killed my baby. How can one man cause so much damage? Why? What did I ever do to him?”

The blanket Trey ripped off me hovers into the air. I grab it as the dresser drawers open and all their contents float out. Shirts, pants, and boxers drift around the room. “Trey.”

He’s not even looking my way. “And he’s supposedly my biological father? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! If he really was my father, why would he kill my mother? A woman he supposedly loved?”

“Trey,” I say louder as I grab a pillow from the air, trying to keep it against the bed.

He continues pacing the other side of the room. “I can’t allow him to keep tormenting me. Everything that man does is toxic. He’s going to keep hurting people if I don’t stop him. He’ll keep coming after my girl too. You’ll always be in danger for as long as he’s alive. I can’t let that happen.”

The pillow I’m holding down bursts into flames. My scream makes Trey spin around as I toss it onto the floor.

“Oh, shit!” He waves a shaky hand at the flaming pillow. The flames don’t stop. “Fuck.”

“Trey, make it stop.”

“I—I’m trying.” His chest rises and falls as he gasps for air. He has that desolate look in his eyes again—the same look he got after Li told him that Victor is his real father.

Suddenly, I know exactly what I need to do. I jump off the bed. The second I take his face into my palms, everything in the air falls to the carpet. The flames consuming the pillow disappear into plumes of smoke. It takes a minute for Trey’s breathing to slow. The entire time, my hands never leave his face.

After several deep breaths, he finally makes eye contact with me. That desolate look is gone, replaced by sorrow. He wraps his muscular arms tight around my waist. “I’m sorry, babe. Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay. Are you?”

He nods slightly, and I don’t need Li’s lie-detecting power to know he’s lying.

I drop my hands, then turn to find what’s left of that pillow in a burnt heap on the floor. The carpet beneath it is scorched too. It hits me that the bedroom I was locked inside of at the Ridge was probably Trey’s at one point.

“Good thing we have extra pillows,” I say.

“Good thing we’re underground.”

“Good thing the fire didn’t spread.”

With a tender finger, he tucks some of my hair behind an ear. “Good thing I’ve got you. Did you know you have a special power where every time you touch me, it calms me?”

“I’ve noticed.”

Trey leans down to kiss my forehead. “Thank you for being everything I never knew I needed.”

My heart swoons. He’s everything I never knew I needed too.

I leave him to grab a new pillow from the closet and toss it onto the bed. “This has happened before, hasn’t it?”

His gaze falls to the carpet. “Yeah, lots. It started after my parents died, then it stopped sometime after I turned sixteen. It hasn’t happened since until today. I don’t know what it is or how to prevent it.”

“When does it usually happen?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“Whenever I get too emotional, or anxious, or depressed.”

“I think they’re panic attacks.”

“Hmm” is all he says. Then he spends a moment staring at the carpet.

Eventually, we get back under the covers. Trey pats his shoulder, then gestures for me to scoot closer. I don’t hesitate to nestle into the crook of his arm. As he wraps his limbs around me, his hand bumps my gauze. It doesn’t hurt.

“It’s been long enough,” he says. “Can I take this off for you?”

“Sure.” I expect him to peel it off. Instead, he points at my arm. The gauze flies away and lands on the floor. My skin under it looks brand new.

---