Page 81 of Sloth
Sloan knew she needed training, and not the physical kind. She’d had plenty of that at the gym in the past two weeks. Her powers were unpredictable when she was stressed. She’d barely slept, instead, putting her feelings in a box and locking them up tight. Problem was, she’d not unpacked any boxes—she was too busy trying to find Max.
If sleep slipped out and affected people around her, it wasn’t good. What next? What if her heartbreak broke loose? What about her pain? Her despair?
What if she snapped?
She flinched as the image of her fingers choking the life out of Barry came to her.
Parker was right to confine Sloan to Lazarus House until her internal equilibrium returned to normal. She understood his point, but not heading out every time Daisy’s face popped up on the alert was counterintuitive. Being the only one manning the surveillance almost twenty-four-seven, she was the first line of attack, and her family wasn’t fast enough acting on the intel. How could they catch Daisy if they didn’t chase?
It was a game. A game Sloan would win, or go mad trying.
That was exactly the point,Parker had pointed out. Daisy wanted Sloan insane with her power, ending sinners all over town.
Sloan wanted to hate her sister. A dark cruel twisted feeling inside wanted to smother the woman, but it wasn’t all Daisy’s fault. She was a product of their evil twisted makers. It could have just as easily been Sloan causing the trouble. Sliding doors, and all that.
The closest they’d come to catching a lead was Daisy’s game of peekaboo, and it frustrated the living daylights out of Sloan. The woman wanted Sloan out in public. She wanted Sloan causing havoc with her unbalanced powers. Daisy was back in the city, though, and that’s why on the second computer down at her desk in the living room, she searched the city’s feeds—CCTV footage, local news networks and so on. Lilo, Griffin’s mate, worked at the Cardinal Copy, and was doing her best to use her contacts to chase down any information, but Sloan had better access than anyone. If Sloan couldn’t find Max, then maybe he couldn’t be found.
Rolling to her back, she stared at the ceiling for precisely the count of three, then pushed out of bed to find something to do. The longer she stayed still, the more her thoughts derailed toward dreadful outcomes and she kept hearing Max’s voice in her head,Leave no stone unturned.Without him, they’d never have broken the lead that brought them to Barry. Also, Max would have never been kidnapped. Liza said kidnapping victims rarely remained alive beyond a few days from their capture.
Shut up.
She wasn’t going there. Not today.
Moving from the bedroom to the kitchen, Sloan went to the box Wyatt had delivered weeks ago. The box still sat on her kitchen bench. It still had his ex’s belongings in there, including the little velvet red box. Unopened.
The box glared bright in her dimmed room.
Red. Angry red. Blood red. Love red.
Her chest constricted. Max had said he’d bought her a ring, and she knew the ring was inside. She’d seen it, but she didn’t have the heart to open the box. It would be a glaring symbol of her failure.
With trembling fingers, she picked up the red velvet box and opened it. It creaked and resisted. Old, unused and discarded, she had to use force.
There it was.
The ring.
The polish seemed to have lost a little shine. The diamonds were lackluster. A lump in her throat formed. She snapped the lid shut, the sound of it echoing darkly in her mind. It was the sound of a door slamming closed, for the second time.
A bird warbled through the open window at her fire-escape. Placing the box down on the kitchen bench, she jogged back into her bedroom and growled the Bluebird away from the pizza box sitting on the sill. She lifted the lid to search for a slice, not caring the box had been delivered the previous night. Nothing but picked off pineapple pieces were left. It was probably what the bird was trying to get, but Sloan didn’t want anyone touching those pineapple pieces.
No one.
Tears welled in her eyes, burning. That lump in her throat wouldn’t move and her throat closed up over it. She sniffed, wiping her nose with the bottom of her ratty pajama sleeve, but the sleeve couldn’t hold back the hot tears that spilled, the snot that clogged her nose, and the puffy eyes.
The cat meowed beneath her bed.
Sniffing, Sloan wiped her nose again. “I’m sorry Luna. I’ll—”she fanned her face with her hand and gulped in a breath“—I’ll manage my emotion.I will.”
While she took deep breaths, her gaze darted around her apartment, looking for a distraction. Weeks ago, it was a filthy mess. Now, apart from the pizza boxes, everything was spotless. She’d exhausted all her cleaning efforts, and she’d spent any other available moment in the gym or searching for Max. There was nothing left for her to do. She supposed she could clean herself. She was a mess, after all.
Luna meowed and crawled out from beneath the bed. She blinked up at Sloan with her yellow eyes and then made a weird mewling sound as she reclined and rolled, using her claws to pluck at the fallen blanket draped half off the bed, half on the floor. If Sloan didn’t know any better, she’d say Luna was moping. Just like her.
Sloan also supposed she could use this time to get better at controlling her ability.
Get more lethal. Get invincible.
She wanted to be on her A-game when that computer pinged Max’s location. And itwillfind him. She’d already honed her body, now it was time to work on her power. She went to stand at her computer station to watch the three monitors as they searched the city for her mate.
