Page 10 of Beyond Repair: Part One

"Obviously," he jokes, pulling on my sleeve until I'm standing. Trevor pulls me out of the office and only releases me once the door has snicked shut behind us. "You know we always got you, right?"

"I know," I agree and give my friend a grateful smile. Ridge and Trevor may be the only blood relatives in our group of four, but we're family through and through.

My entrance into the open concept kitchen that flows into our dining room and living room doesn't go unnoticed by Kai. "Hey, baby," he murmurs, swooping in to give me a scorching kiss.

The blood rushing to my dick screeches to a painful halt when Ridge cries out in mock disgust. "HEY! MYEYES!"

Kai tugs me into him a bit harder and grins against my mouth. I chuckle and pull back before I let him have his wicked way with me.

"Idiot," Trevor mutters, shoving Ridge out of the way to stir a pot of sauce on the burner.

"Get a room," Ridge grumbles as Kai takes a nip of my collarbone.

To my utter embarrassment, Kai says, "But Henry loves being bent over the island."

"NO!" Ridge gasps, appalled. His face turns red, but definitely not as red as mine.

Trevor sighs by the fridge now. "Guys—" His phone ringing cuts his reprimand off.

My stomach bottoms out for reasons I'm terrified of analyzing. "Speakerphone," I croak. I know in my gut that whoever is on the other end of that phone call is about to turn our world upside down.

Chapter 8

Nina

My fridge is stocked, there's taco meat on the stove, and I'm in no mood for company, so really, there's no reason my mom can find to stay. We both know the next step is literally her walking out my front door.

I hate it so much. My throat aches with the strength it's taking to hold my sobs inside. I want my dad to stay. I want my mom to come sit on my pretty burnt orange couch and watch our favorite vampire show.

My god, I want them to stay so badly I feel like my chest is going to concave any minute now. Dad's already outside, having hugged me minutes ago. I'll hold on to his parting words forever, just like I did when I was locked in that basement.

Whether it's a phone call right before I'm kidnapped, or leaving me to get settled into my new home alone, he always ensures his final words areI love you, sweet.

My mom, though? She breaks my heart in a different kind of way. It's the pure love and devotion in her watery eyes that makes the urge to crumble to the ground, then beg her to stay all that more powerful.

I know I reflect the same emotions in my gaze and that's why she's hesitating to leave. Mom and I are the same and when heavy emotions are involved, we're like a live wire ready to explode in a puddle of tears.

Crying never used to be my default, but these past few years, even when I'm numb, my tears have been my only outlet. Sometimes I'll be so disassociated to what's going on in my mind that I don't realize my chin is dripping with salty despair.

That's when Mom and Dad get the most worried. In my disconnect there's so much unknown.Toomuch.

Therapy has helped me learn my triggers, but I fear my trauma is so irreparable that awareness won't do me any good. I can usually feel the panic coming on and pinpoint why, but there's no going back. The current is too strong. Thetraumais too consuming.

That's why I'm a homebody. Avoiding everything is safer. Thank goodness for all the new delivery services. The only apps downloaded on my phone are for food. Every subscription I have is to keep me at home. I have movies, TV shows, and games thanks to my old PS4.

I'll be happy enough with Zombies and chocolate-covered almonds for the rest of my life if it means ignoring the world.

"I love you, Nina. Please,pleasecall me before you go to bed."

Nodding at my mom, I refrain from telling her I don't currently know where my phone is. It's somewhere in this house that echoes with emptiness. Even with all of my boxes unpacked and the neweverythingmy parents filled it with, family photos included, I swear it still echoes.

After the sheer chaos of my mom decorating and making my entire home look already lived in after a short forty-eight hours, of course I have no idea where the heck she docked my phone, but I don't really care.

"I will. Love you, Mom," I whisper, hoping she doesn't hear the crack in my voice. No such luck; her lip wobbles. She takes a step toward me, but Dad halts her in her tracks.

"Meg, darling," he coos softly, stopping just outside my front door. Behind him, my quiet, cozy neighborhood glows in the desert sunset of Provo, Utah. "It's time to go."

"But—"

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