Page 41 of Bones

“I meant what I said, Sloan,” Paul says and eases into a crouch beside me in the wide aisle. His hand moves from my shoulder, up to brush some of my hair behind my face. I pull back, unable to let him touch me with such intimacy. The only male I want touching me anymore is Bones.

“If that was true--“ my voice is soft but my words don’t waver, “-then you would be helping me escape Xavius. Not returning me to him.”

He blinks rapidly at my uncharacteristic rebuttal. The ember sparks hotter, sparking like it’s ready to burst into flame. I liftmy chin, meeting his eyes. I may not be all spite and anger like Sydney, but I’m stronger now. With the help of therapy and my own hard work, I’ve begun to regain the strength he’d quietly stolen over the years.

“I’ve always wanted what is best for you--“

“Then let us go.”

His lips pinch when I interrupt him, his disapproval evident in his eyes. The habits I’d created to survive the justicars scream at me to lower my head, to apologize and become small. I swallow hard, curling my toes tight as I fight to maintain eye contact. My shoulders ache and the zip ties bite into my wrists where they’re bound at the small of my back.

Paul’s eyes harden, his mouth turning down into a frown, and he rises. Looking down his nose at me, his voice is sanctimonious. “When you’re back where you belong and we’ve rid you of the influence ofdemons,” he spits the word out, “you’ll remember the truth.” He grips my chin in a way that could be affectionate if it wasn’t for how hard his fingers dig into me. “I’ll let you earn my forgiveness.”

He lets go of me before I can yank away from him. My thoughts reel, images of him making me earn his forgiveness spinning across the front of my mind like the spinning optical illusion toys from the Victorian age. Except they’re memories instead of any illusion.

Paul is walking towards the front of the plane and he’s nearly at the door when I find my voice.

“He’s coming for me,” I tell him. My voice may shake but my faith in my demon doesn’t.

Paul looks over his shoulder at me and his expression is one of pity as he shakes his head. “Why would a powerful demon like him bother coming after you?”

My heart freezes as Paul voices the fear I’d refused to acknowledge. I’ve seen how women throw themselves at Bones. He can have his pick and I know he’s had numerous partners in the past. Women who are certainly more experienced in bed, who aren’t broken. Who knows how to live on their own. Who doesn’t shut down as soon as a conflict starts, terrified to be hurt.

He nods again, like he’s certain his blow has wounded me. He disappears; only the sound of his heavy steps down the plane’s stairway left behind.

“You can’t listen to him.”

In a fog, I turn my head back towards Sydney. The ember inside of me, the one flickering back into life, is cooling. My vision is blurry as I try to look at her, unable to focus as familiar loneliness encroaches around me.

“Sloan!” Sydney’s voice is sharp, like it’s not the first time she’s tried getting my attention. Sucking in a breath, I struggle against the haze and focus on her. Her sharp face is soft as she waits for me to meet her eyes, waiting to know I’m here with her. Confidence and strength usually fill the lines of her warm brown face. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so compassionate. The steel determination I’m used to is still in her eyes.

“He’s an abuser.” She’s leaning forward to try to close the distance as much as she can, but her voice is distorted like I’m underwater. “He’s saying things to hurt you. I know it hurts regardless. You can’t believe him, though. Bonesiscoming foryou. He loves you. You are his fated mate. His everything. You are worth fighting for.”

She gets clearer as she speaks, her declarations easing the pain from Paul’s blows. She nods with encouragement as I anchor myself, refusing to let myself become filled with doubt. Difficult as that may be.

I think of Bones and how he’s worshiped my body. How he’s loved me with his hands, mouth, and tongue. How when I finally broke, he kept me safe in the embrace of his arms. He waited for me, giving me space to open myself. He wanted me to discover what makes me happy, to stand on my own in my new world.

The chill retreats from my soul, the ember there glowing brighter and brighter. Then it sparks back into life. I inhale, like it’s the first deep breath I’ve taken in years.

A corner of Sydney’s mouth raises in a satisfied grin. “That’s it, bitch.” She looks around the plane and sees we’re still alone for the moment. “Now, how are we going to blow this joint?”

I clear my throat, trying to keep quiet, and bend in place to peer out of the window across the way. I only have a partial view of the open hangar door and a few of the justicars. I don’t see Father Xavius but I have no doubt he’s who the ones I do see are listening to.

“They look busy right now,” I mutter, considering and rejecting different plans. Scanning the plane, my eyes stay on the back. I incline my head towards it. “That’s usually where flight attendants are, right? Maybe there’s something that’ll help us break these zip-ties?”

Sydney gets to her feet gracelessly. Instead of hurrying to the back right away, she hunches over and gives me an arrogantwink before straightening. Then quickly, she’s bending down again while jerking her arms forward. A second later, she’s holding up both wrists in front of her.

“Bend and snap!”

Our eyes go wide as the quick stomps of someone coming up the stairs reaches us. Sydney throws herself into her chair again, her hands behind her like she’s still bound. I see the broken zip tie on the floor between us and with my foot, slide it under my seat just before a new justicar comes around the corner. This man is bulky, with a nose that’s been broken several times and a long scar along the side of his face. He isn’t wearing a white cassock, but instead a white military uniform and matching tactical vest. A distant part of me is surprised the intimidating rifle in his meaty hands isn’t white.

He’s got a mean look to him, one that has me sharing a cautious look with Sydney. He doesn’t say anything as he looks us over before turning enough that he can keep watch outside the plane door.

Together, Sydney and I hunch over and try to look out the window to see what’s going on.

My heart leaps into my throat, this time with hope, when dark shadows flow like floodwaters into the hanger.

The guard moves before I realize it, grabbing and hauling me to my feet by my arm. “You’re coming with me.”

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