Page 84 of The Truths We Seek

I rub my temples, trying to expel the headache that’s been threatening for the last few hours, closing my eyes in hope that it helps.

“You still staring at that screen?”

I look up and find Rory watching me, brow raised, shoulders tense, despite his nonchalant demeanor, and nod. “Yeah, not that it’s been useful.”

“I thought Meyer told you that Denton was looking into it?” His gaze runs over my body and his brow furrows, so I sit up straight and pain registers in my spine.

Oops.

“He did,” I reply as I stand and stretch out. Apparently, sitting cross legged and hunched for the last few hours isn’t good for me. I hadn’t even registered that I was hurting anywhere but my shoulders. “But I was bored, so I figured I’d go down the rabbit hole myself, Alice style.”

I wiggle my toes at him and he laughs at my fuzzy, thigh high, Mad Hatter socks. Another pair courtesy of Hunter. I still haven’t gone through the extreme number of fuzzy socks he got me for Christmas, but they have their own special drawer in my dresser now, so I pick a new pair at random each morning, reveling in the childlike joy of a new discovery.

I meant it when I told him Christmas morning that that present would be like a new gift each morning. So far, I’ve proved myself to not have been lying.

Pressing my hand against my throat, I trace the chain from Meyer, thinking about everything they’ve given me, outside of Christmas.

Rory’s gift isn’t one I have on me right now, but the sword is a work of beauty. I just need to learn how to wield it. Not that I have plans to, but I think it’ll be a cool feather to have in my hat.

“What brought you down here anyway?” I ask, knowing that it’s rare for anyone to be in the family room, which is exactly why I holed up in here after I got chased out of the kitchen by Carlos after we had lunch earlier.

He shrugs before walking toward me and wrapping his arms around me. Shock flickers through me at the unexpected hug, but I hold him, squeezing tight for a few seconds, then rest my head on his chest. “You okay?”

“I am now,” he murmurs before kissing my hair and resting his chin atop my head.

Sometimes I worry that he holds too much in, but I also know that, one, talking about the things in your head is harder than people make out, and two, guys are taught that emotions are weakness so they’re even more reluctant to talk. So instead of pushing, I just say, “You know you can talk to me about stuff if you want to. You don’t have to, but I’m here. I love you, and anything you tell me isn’t going to change that. I won’t judge you or think any differently of you.”

He holds me tighter, so I do the same in response.

“You love me?” His words are more of a whisper, but his hold is so tight that I can’t move, so instead I whisper back to him.

“I do. I think I have for a long time, and I probably should have told you before. But I love you, Rory Beeston. Every single part of you.”

He shudders beneath my touch and I smile to myself. “I love you too, Quinn.”

* * *

The new year is well and truly here, and with it came a fresh slate.

Trent is dead.

My guys are here and I love them. They love me.

I have friends that are actually my friends, not fake fair-weather ones.

My life is unrecognizable. If the girl who ran from Trent those years ago, terrified out of her mind, was told this would be our life, she wouldn’t have believed it.

Yet here I am.

Living. Thriving.

But still, the past has its claws in me. It’s been almost a month since I took Trent’s life. Since he told me about my supposed childhood kidnapping, and well... I still can’t stop thinking about it. Though, hopefully after the next couple days, I’ll have more peace.

I’ll have truth.

Closure.

Something.

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