Page 110 of Scapegoat

Kai moved forward and hugged him, and Daryl let out a long sigh. He wrapped his arms around her and for a moment I was worried. Was she going to let herself be pulled back into this shit again? I knew the man was weak, that he had little ability to stand up against a monster like Abigail, but… Part of me could never forgive him for that, for not finding someone else stronger to step in if he couldn’t.

And neither could Kai.

I knew her like I did my own heart. I could see that there was a discomfort there, a reluctance. He was her father, but he was also a witness to all the worst that had happened to her and that made being around him tough. So she just nodded as she stepped back, and rubbed his arm.

“I know and I appreciate it, but I won’t be back. If you want to make contact, find me, otherwise…” She looked around the room, and I wondered what she was seeing, the present or the past. “Look after yourselves. Be happy, because that’s what I’m going to be.”

And then, finally, after an interminable amount of time exchanging pleasantries, we made it to the door.

For all the times I’d come through the front door, invited, and snuck in the back door without permission, in order to spend time with my mate, it was only now that I felt good about this place. Saying goodbye to this house, the pain that was part of it, was a good thing. And I asked Kai if she felt the same way when we drove off.

“Part of me will always be trapped inside that house,” she said, her hand scratching at her breastbone. “It’s why I can’t stay here, why I’m not going to come back, but…” Jamie looked across at her from the driver’s seat. “But that’s only a small part of who I am. There’s a whole world out there and a whole other me, one that’s stepped out from under Mum’s shadow. I can’t wait to meet her.”

“Damn straight, kid,” Jamie said with a nod of her head and then she pulled the horn, scattering some poor unsuspecting crows as we hit the road. “Damn fucking straight.”

Chapter 62

Three months later

You know when you wake up feeling twice as tired as you did when you went to sleep? Yeah, that was me this morning. Waking up was like swimming up, up to the surface, but something kept pushing me back down. I’d have happily slept the day away but for this.

Somehow I could feel every single tiny little pilled up bit of fabric rubbing against my skin. The guys had tried to tell me we should buy some one hundred percent pure cotton sheets, but the expense seemed insane. Right now I couldn’t have regretted that decision more. I shifted in the bed, the covers feeling too heavy, pressing me against the bed, against those damn little beads of fabric, until I shoved my head up and off the pillow and looked around.

My eyes closed down to slits. There were blackout curtains on the windows, but the tiny shafts of light that seeped around the edges had me squinting. No, worse, pulling back, shrinking away from it. The light was too harsh, too bright and it hurt. I let out a small sound of distress, but didn’t expect an answer. I hadn’t been feeling well for the last few days, so the guys left me in bed when they went to work, but when the door snicked open, I jumped.

“What’re you…?” I said as I stared at Xavier. “Why are you not at work?”

“Day off,” he said, coming slowly closer. He held out a cup of tea, steam curling off it. “Thought you might like a drink?”

I took it gratefully. He knew exactly how I liked it, having mastered the art of drink maker faster than meals. But when my fingers touched the cup, I had to fight the urge to pull back. It was too hot, the smell too astringent, the bergamot notes I usually liked assaulting my nose.

“No,” I said, trying to put it on the bedside table as quickly as possible. “No!”

“OK, I’ve got it.” Xavier rescued the cup from my hands, going and putting it on a tallboy we had on the other side of our room. “I thought you might be thirsty. You were thrashing around a lot in bed.”

Another disgusted whine from me. I pulled away from the bed, fought the covers like a petulant child until he swooped in to pull them away.

“Better?”

“No.”

Where the hell had that answer come from? Actually where the hell had all of this come from? I liked tea and would’ve at least thanked Xavier for bringing it to me in bed, even if I didn’t want it. I stared at him then, another damn whine building in my throat.

“Xavier…?”

“You’re not feeling right,” he said, calmly and confidently. He pressed the back of his hand to my forehead and then nodded.

“I’m sick? I can’t be sick. I need—”

I had work. We had work. I’d had to take a few days off because my energy levels were so low and I was just tired all the time. I’d been super apologetic to the farm manager we were currently working for, but he’d just smiled and clapped a hand on my shoulder, saying I was a good worker and that I should take some time off.

And that felt wrong.

Don’t touch me, that’s what I wanted to snap, even though Barry was a good guy. He was always nice and respectful and made sure the other guys were around me. But right then I hated it, hated him for daring to touch me, even though it had just been for half a second, but Jayden stepped in before I could say anything. He steered me away, drove me back to the cottage we were currently renting and… I’d spent the last few days in bed, wondering if I had PTSD or something, when this happened.

No more. I sprang off the bed, the feel of those sheets on my skin too much to bear. I tore the blankets and the quilts off, then the sheets, throwing them into the corner to go in the bin later. I even got to the mattress protector, then paused.

Why would I want to pull that off?

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