Page 63 of Bind Me

“What happened with your mom? I notice you’re more angry than emotional when she’s mentioned.”

She stiffens, her grip tightening further. There’s no response at first, and I don’t push her. We’ve all been broken in this fucked-up world, left with scars we bear until our dying breath. A world of pain we learn how to tolerate, but if I can ease hers somehow, then I’ll do what it takes.

Finally exhaling loudly, she murmurs, “Thing is, I never saw her transformation into a siren coming. Maybe I was too young to notice any signs, or maybe she just hid it from my dad and me really well. It happened when I was very young, during an argument between my parents.” Her words are shaky. “Things escalated so fucking fast…” she continues, her voice cracking.

I place a hand on her arm, hoping she knows I’m here for her.

“Then, in the snap of a second, she became someone else… She turned on my dad… That day, I lost them both. Lost my childhood, lost it all.”

The weight of her words thickens the air in the car. It’s as though I feel the raw wound she’s carried all these years. I squeeze her arm gently. She must have witnessed her mother murdering her father, and that stings hard.

“Sorry you had to go through that.”

She nods, eyes still on the road. No tears, although I suspect she’s done her fair share of crying over what her mother did.

Silence beats between us until she whispers, “Thanks,” as though that’s all she can manage.

I admire her strength and begin to understand her tenacity, her fighting back on everything. She’s learned to deal with the loss and the pain by building a wall around herself.

No words needed, I hold her arm and keep her company as she drives me home.

The article in my lap suddenly flutters from the open window. I snatch it before it flies away, my gaze dropping to the image of the ship docked at the harbor. My gaze narrows as I notice a figure standing nearby, as if accidentally caught in the image. I blink, unable to believe what I’m seeing.

No fucking way.

I inspect the grainy image more carefully. That’s Lilia from my grandfather’s visions, the blonde, her beauty spot above her lip, talking to him about growing his business… his partner in his business.

If this article is around fourteen years old, then there’s a chance she’s still alive today. Fuck, she lived thousands of years since my grandfather lived in Norway. A sense of anticipation floods me that perhaps this is the clue I’ve been seeking.

“What’s got you hyper-focused on the article?”

I lift my attention to Sasha, and my thoughts fast-forward.

“This woman in the photo, my grandfather knew her, and she might know more about why he got tossed into Tartarus.”

She squints her eyes to look at the photo, then back at the road. When she pauses in traffic, she grabs the page and studies it closely. She runs the tip of her finger over the woman, her brow creased.

“Could it be?” she mumbles to herself when someone suddenly honks at us from behind. She flinches, shoves the article at me, and is driving once more. “I-I think I met that woman the other day when I was down at the docks. I swear it looks just like her.”

“Are you certain?” I stiffen.

“Pretty sure,” she says, her voice filled with conviction.

“She was in Norway the other day. So, if I can find her, then I can find out what the fuck happened to my grandfather.” And how I ended up losing my parents, my childhood… and most importantly, who the hell is responsible.

Sasha nods, her grip on the steering wheel tightening. “Then let’s find her now.”

“Fuck, love your determination.” My hand falls to her thigh, my fingers grazing her skin, but my adrenaline is for vengeance. My sweet little mermaid’s scent still lingers in my nostrils, her tight, wet pussy still a memory on my cock.

“You helped me, so I owe you one.”

I grin to myself, well aware that she owes me nothing, but I’ll let it slide.

I lean back, my mind buzzing with the eagerness to finally find my answer to my grandfather’s imprisonment.

When we finally arrive at the docks, the salt tang of the sea fills me, and I take several deep inhales, craving to dive into its depths. But for now, I get out of the car and head down to the docks. Boats bob in their berths, with only a handful of dock workers loading fish into an oversized container.

I track after Sasha, who’s hurrying down the farthest dock, but it’s empty. No ship in sight. I grind my back teeth, instantly knowing we missed her.

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