Page 82 of Secrets That Bind Us
Impossible.
Thud, thud, thud.
But the noise isn’t coming from her, it’s coming from behind her. More whimpering noises follow, and I try to search where they’re coming from.
There’s a static in the air, the mumbling now a soft hum I can feel all over my body.
It’sfreezing.
Small puffs of fog leave my mouth as I try to gain some kind of balance as to what I’m seeing. There’s a form behind her, and suddenly it’s all too real. Verity stretches her arms out, like she’s blindfolded and trying to find her way, her chest heaving as she tries to breathe deeper, but each one is a shudder.
“Mama?” she whimpers, and I can tell she’s scared out of her goddamn mind. I try to move, to get to her, because I know how this scene ends. But it feels like I’m wading through swamp water with a hundred pound tire tied to my waist.
“Verity!” I scream, but my voice only carries so far.
What is happening?
She screams for her mother again, but this time she’s flipped on her back– reliving the worst night of her life. The one I know she can’t remember.Won’tremember. It sounds like a teakettle somewhere is going off, the pressure in the room chaotic as it is calm. Black dots appear in the sides of my periphery, my head beginning to pound as I scream her name one last time.
I wake up with a jolt, the sun shining through the window, the sounds of a keyboard clicking and clacking. I look over and see Verity– hair up in a messy bun on her head, in my shirt– typing away on her laptop in the chair by the window that shows it’s still raining, feet up on the small ottoman. I’m exhausted. Every muscle in my body hurts, and my mind feels foggy. She reaches over and grabs a mug of coffee from the small end table and brings it to her lips.
“Baby?”
Her gaze lifts from her laptop to me, lips parting in a beautiful smile. “Hey, baby. Good morning. Coffee’s on the pot. I made some sausage rolls. I just pulled them out of the oven to cool. Did I wake you?”
Sitting up, I blink. “No you didn’t… you didn’t wake me.” I stretch my arm out to her, and she comes to me willingly. She puts her laptop on the ottoman, has me hold her mug until she climbs right into bed with me again, and it feels fuckinggood. “How are the kids?”
She snuggles deeper into me. “They’re good. Zoey’s bringing them by a little later. So much wedding stuff to take care of, still.”
I yawn. “What time is it?”
“A little after seven.”
It feels like I’ve barely slept a wink.
“Why are you up so early?”
She blushes, taking another sip, brown eyes peering at me over the big mug that probably holds two cups of coffee. “Woke up feeling a little inspired.”
I arch a brow, holding back my own grin. “Oh yeah? What’s your story about?” I ask, looking up at the ceiling, still wondering if last night was real or a fucking nightmare. It had to have been a nightmare, right?
Verity puts her mug on the nightstand, stretches beside me and yawns, then burrows under the blanket, putting her hand on my chest. I lay my hand over it, grip it, then bring it up to my lips to kiss. She starts talking, but once again that eerie feeling creeps up my spine and spreads through my shoulders when her sleeve falls back a bit. I bunch it all the way to her elbow and see a bruise around her wrist. Remembering last night’s activities, I know it can’t be from the silk tie I used to restrain her. No. These look like long, skinny fingers going up her forearm. I wrap my fingers around them, noting how muchlongerthey are than mine.
Verity stops talking and makes an “Ow,” sound.
I take my hand off. “Sorry, baby. Sorry. Where did you get these?” I ask.
Her brows furrow in confusion as she sits up and looks down at her wrist. “I…” she trails off, touching it. “I don’t know.”
“Verity, I didn’t make those. Even if I tied the tie too tight, it would be in a circle around your wrists. Not… that.” I point. She looks down at them, worrying her bottom lip, looking like she’s on the verge of losing it. “Alright, hey. It’s okay. I’m here, Ver. But I want you to know, I’m moving in sooner than later.”
She nods. “I actually really want that, Dean. I feel so safe with you. I never want you to leave. We need to talk to the kids soon. I don’t know how we’re going to bring that up, but-”
“Together, Ver. We do it together.”
I give her a kiss, pat her on the hip, getting up to go to the bathroom to relieve myself, then start my morning routine. I hear the small clacking of her keyboard. When I get out of the bathroom, ready to join my girl for breakfast, I see she’s not in the room. But I still hear the fucking clacking.
My hacklesrise. I take one step toward her laptop sitting on the ottoman only for her to call out to me. I blink at the laptop, the keys no longer clicking. I grab the goddamn thing, turning it to look at the screen.
