“Thank you,” she whispered.
Thank you. That was it. But what had he expected? That she’d tell him she loved him and wanted to be with him forever? That she’d forgiven him for the horrible things he’d said to her? Even if she did, that didn’t mean he could bring her back into his world. Not ever again.
He drew in a breath. “Goodbye, Juliette.”
Her brown eyes held his and no matter how hard she fought to keep her face smooth, the gathering tears tore at him. It reflected in the tremor of her chin and in her white knuckled grip around the blanket. A pink tongue snuck out and wet her lips before disappearing once more.
“Goodbye, Killian.”
It was incredible how something so tiny could feel like she’d taken a bazooka to his chest. Two little words that it felt as hollow as her voice. The plastic beneath his hands creaked under the force of his grip. He relinquished it quickly and pushed back. He began to turn away, needing to leave before he did something infinitely stupid like beg her take it back, but he stopped. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his mother’s pendent. He set it gently on the foot of the bed, not trusting himself any closer to her.
“Take care of it for me,” he murmured, unable to look at her, knowing that if he did and she was crying, he’d never leave. “It’ll just collect dust if I keep it. You could give it to your children one day.” Children she wouldn’t have with him.
Children she’d create with some other man, someone who could give her children, someone who could give her the normal life Killian couldn’t. Someone who would get into bed with her at night and touch her and hold her and make her come apart. The man didn’t even exist yet and Killian could already feel his blood boiling. The very idea of this faceless person touching Juliette made his vision go red. But he didn’t take it back. Instead, he turned on his heel and stalked to the door.
“Don’t go.”
He couldn’t be sure if it was a voice in his head or if the words had actually been spoken, but when he glanced back, Juliette was staring out the window, her eyes unblinking and bright. Her arms were clasped tight around her and she was cutting a gash in her bottom lip.
She looked up when he stopped. Her eyes met his and a tear cut down the curve of her cheek to cling to the corner of her lips. Something hard kicked him in the stomach, hard enough to nearly send him to his knees. His chest tightened and he was sure he was about to die of asphyxiation. Her lips parted and Killian left. He ran before she could let the words he could see in her eyes spill through the room and further destroy him.
Chapter 30
Juliette waited until his footsteps had faded before letting the walls crash down around her in a flood of agony. The pain of watching him walk away devoured her all over again with a fresh urgency that made her insides feel hollowed out. It cut into all the tender places that were already torn open from their original break up and ripped the crude stitching wide open. She reached for the pendant and broke into a fit of sobs that mostly had nothing to do with Killian. It was as though the dam she’d built during her captivity burst and she was swamped with everything she’d kept locked behind it. It flooded over her, pulling her under until she was sure she would die. Even to her own ears, the sounds escaping her weren’t quite normal. They were the wails of someone under immense torture, which was exactly how it felt.
“Hey.” Thin arms wound their way around her, pulling her forward into a body that smelled of orchards and citrus. “It’s all right,” Vi whispered. “It’s going to be all right.”
Juliette couldn’t even push away the wild drumming beating down on her long enough to give an answer. She didn’t even know what she could say that would justify her complete meltdown. How could she explain that she was only just starting to feel the full impact of the terror she should have felt during her stint in the cage? How could she possibly make anyone understand what she’d gone through? They may not have beaten her like Maraveet or raped and tortured her like Killian’s mom, but the never knowing what they would do was a sort of torture beyond words. It was waking up and wondering if that would be the day they would finally break her. It was the prayers that went unanswered and the guilt of being powerless. Tangled amongst all of that was the loss she felt at losing Killian and knowing it was the right thing. She couldn’t stay with him when he refused to leave that life that had put her in the hospital in the first place. She couldn’t stay with him knowing it was a possibility that she could be taken again. She couldn’t stay when her presence in his world made him weak. He’d said as much himself and Cyril had confirmed it. She would be his death and she would never allow that.
“When can I go home?” She lifted her wet, blotchy, and swollen face off Vi’s damp shoulder. “I need my bed.”
Vi gave her a sad little smile. “Not until tomorrow, but I’m going to stay right here with you, okay? So, just lie down and rest for now.”
She did, not because she’d been told to, but because the thought of sleeping the hours away made the idea seem logical. Only a few more hours and she’d be in her own bed, dressed in her own clothes and walking through her own home. It had been so long that she almost ached with the need to be surrounded by all the familiar things she’d always took for granted.
“What’s that?”
Juliette followed the line of Vi’s pointing finger at the pendant she still held clutched in one hand. She unfurled her fingers so the girl could see.
“Killian gave it to me,” she whispered. “It belonged to his mother.”
“It’s beautiful!” Vi gasped. “Where is Killian? I thought for sure he’d still be here.”
Her fingers closed around the cameo. “He left.”
Vi blinked. “Oh, when is he coming back?”
“He’s not.” Hot tears trickled from the corners of her eyes and soaked into the pillow. “He’s gone.”
“What?” There was a bemused chuckle in the question. “Why?”
“Because he could never love someone like me.” That was what he’d said, someone like her, someone inexperienced and stupid in the ways of love and sex.
“No, that’s not right. The guy is crazy about you. Trust me, I know. I was there when you were taken.”
Juliette had nothing to say to that, no explanation. Even if she had, she was in no mood to do so. She shut her eyes instead and willed herself to sleep.
True to her promise, Vi was still there when Juliette opened her eyes again. The sun was already high in the sky and it filled the room with a pale, white light that chased away the cold gloom of the night before. Vi sat slumped forward in a plastic chair. Her arms were folded on the bed next to Juliette’s hip and she was sound asleep. In the doorway, she could just make out Phil’s somber profile and wondered if he’d been there the whole night. But it was the pendant still clutched in her hand that really pulled her attention. She peered down at the ivory face of the girl with the flower and thought of Killian. She wondered where he was and what he was doing and if she would ever see him again. She doubted it. The night before when he’d walked out of the hospital had been their final goodbye. The thought was devastating, but she knew there was nothing she could do, but let him go.
Next to her, Vi shifted and sat up yawning. The right side of her face was a maze of welts from her coat sleeve. Her makeup had smudged, leaving thick, black mascara rings across her cheeks. She squinted at the window across the room, then turned to peer at Juliette.
“It’s morning.”
Juliette smiled at the hoarse croak. “Yup, looks that way.”