Page 22 of Ravaging Red
Finally, her eyes met mine again. “You’ll hurt before you heal. He’ll tear you apart. But don’t hate him for it. He’ll suffer alongside you.”
She leaned forward, close enough that I could smell the lavender and mint on her breath. “He’s not the monster, baby. He’s the lock. And you’re the key. It was always going to be you. It’s in your blood.”
I was shaking now, her words curling around my ribs, pressing down on something ageless that stirred beneath my skin.
And just like that, the clarity drained from her eyes, the spark flickering out like a candle being blown out. She began humming again, slower now, her focus returning to the yarn in her lap, the clicking of her needles resuming their broken rhythm.
I pulled away slowly. “I understand, Nana.”
As I drove home later that night the woods loomed in the distance. That familiar tingle coarse through me and my heart started to pound.
I missed him.
I wasn’t supposed to miss him.
What was left of my human sense told me that this was wrong, but my gut instinct told me he was as much mine as I was his. If my Nana was right, I wasn’t going to be able to fight this much longer.
Chapter 9
Secrets Over Sugar
RED
The bell above the bakery door chimed softly as I stepped inside, the warm, sweet air wrapping around me like a blanket. The smell hit me first. It was rich vanilla, cinnamon, and the faint tang of melted butter that still clung to the air from the morning’s first batch. My stomach grumbled in betrayal. I’d sworn I wasn’t hungry, but Dulce’s place had a way of undoing every ounce of willpower I thought I had.
She was behind the counter, apron dusted in flour, hair pinned up in a messy twist with a pencil stuck through it like a stake. Her cheeks flushed when she saw me, that easy smile I’d always loved lighting up her face.
“Red,” she cried out, running around the counter to engulf me in a big warm hug. “I thought you’d never come see me. I’ve been so worried about you.”
“I wanted to come sooner, besides, you know I can’t resist your pastries,” I said, already eyeing the plate of still steaming Conchas beside her. The soft pink sugar crust crackled when I picked one up, the heat sinking into my fingers. I took a bite,the dough airy and warm, the sweet and grainy sugar dissolved against my tongue.
“God, Dulce. I swear, if the rest of the world burns down, I’ll still crawl through the ashes to get to these.”
She laughed, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She poured me coffee, strong and black with a splash of cream, the way I liked it, and then slid it across the counter. “So,” she said, tucking her hands into her apron pockets. “You here to tell me what’s going on, or are we playing that game where we dance around the truth?”
I swallowed another bite, my jaw working slowly as I was buying time. “What makes you think I feel like dancing?”
She arched a brow. “Because I know you, Red. And when you get distant it means you’re hiding something. So, spit it out, I can tell something is weighing on your mind.”
I stared into my coffee, watching the steam curl and fade. “It’s not easy for me to say. Hell, I don’t even think you’d believe it if I told you.”
She leaned closer, elbows on the counter. “Try me. It’s not we haven’t heard worse.”
The corner of my mouth twitched. It was true, we’d told each other everything. From heartbreaks to bad dates to the kind of secrets you took to the grave. But this… this was different. This was a truth that split the world in two.
I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the mug. “There’s… someone. I met someone.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“He’s not like other men. He’s…” I cut myself off, tongue caught on the word.Monsterwas too sharp, too final a word. But once I said it, there would be no taking it back.
Her eyes searched mine. “Don’t tell me he’s different than the others. I’ve heard that lie before. I’ve experienced it.”
“No.” I responded quickly, cutting her off. “Not like that. But he’s… dangerous. Shit, I don’t know how to say it.”
“Just tell me, Red. You can trust me.” She insisted.
“You’ll think I’m crazy.”
