Page 19 of Unleashed
Replacing the panic is this crushing sorrow that forces tears to the surface, and Anthony reaches for me, pulling me close into his chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”
I nestle deeper into him, quiet tears trickling down my cheeks.
“When I heard you scream, I almost had a fucking heart attack.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You have to stop doing that.” His fingers weave through my hair as he rocks back and forth. “Apologizing for something that’s not your fault.”
I nod into his chest, still trying to breathe past the tightness coiled in my ribs. “It felt so real,” I whisper. “He was there… touching me… and then—” My voice breaks. “He changed. His face… everything changed.”
Anthony’s arms tighten around me. “It was just a nightmare.”
“I know,” I rasp, but it doesn’t help. “But it felt so real. It…it felt exactly like him…until it wasn’t.”
There’s a beat of silence.
“Maybe it was.” His tone is low, careful. “Maybe that nightmare was your body remembering what your mind’s trying to ignore.”
I lean back, just enough to see his face. “You think I’m foolish for loving him?”
“I think you’re confused.” His gaze remains steady. “You’ve been through hell. You’ve been manipulated and isolated. And now you’re clinging to the only thing that made you feel…secure.”
Easing away from him, I lean back against the velvet headboard. “Secure?”
Inhaling deep, his gaze swipes along the room without focusing on a single thing, like he’s either searching for the right words or trying to stop himself from speaking at all. “Everly,” he starts, eyes finally finding mine, “all you’ve ever wanted was security. Stability. Because your parents? They didn’t give that to you. Not even fucking close.” I swallow hard. “The time you spent on that island with him, just the two of you, it gave you a false sense of that.”
“I don’t?—”
“Just think about it for a minute. While you were on that island, there was no outside influence. No distractions. No threat of it changing or being taken away from you—that you knew of,” he adds. “He made sure you thought I was dead, made sure you didn’t find out that I was actually alive and tearing the world apart looking for you because he knew if he could give you the one thing you need above everything else, he would be able to control you.” His gaze drifts off to the side, like he’s staring into his thoughts. “And that’s my fault.”
I still, narrowing my eyes at him. “What do you mean?”
Roughing his hand through his disheveled hair, the white tee he slept in creased, he sighs. “That night, he invited me to Myth to warn me to stay away from you. I told him that he doesn’t know you like I do. That he can’t give you what you need—the one thing you yourself don’t even know you need.”
“Stability,” I say softly.
“Yeah.” He wipes a palm down his face, then moves back on the bed to face me, taking both my hands. “Remember that night we snuck out to the diner?”
“The night you ordered the peanut butter milkshake?”
A half-smile curls at the edges of his mouth. “Yeah. You told me that one day you’ll be able to leave New York, get away from Michele and your mother. And when you do, you’ll make sure you’re never trapped again. That you’ll always have a way out. Always free.”
“I remember.”
“You also said that you’ll never make the same mistake your mother made. That people who desperately search for stability?—”
“—make wrong choices,” I whisper, my voice fading into silence as cold, brutal reality sinks in.
Anthony squeezes my hands. “Exactly.”
Is that what I did?
Did I confuse Isaia’s obsession with safety? His control for comfort?
I close my eyes and suddenly I’m back on that island—the warm sun, the sound of waves crashing against rocks, the way he’d cook for me, touch me like I was breakable and holy and his. I told myself it was freedom. But maybe it was just another cage… just painted prettier.
“He made me feel… safe,” I admit. “Like nothing could touch me while I was his.”
