Page 32 of Cruel Debts
Locked.
Things were starting to seem a bit more serious by the second.
“Trinity?” I knocked again—still nothing. But I did hear a little whimper, which meant she was at least still in the room. “Trin? It’s me, Asher. Open the door.”
“No.” That single word was so faint, I could barely hear it. If my ear hadn’t been plastered to the door, I might not have. But itwas laced with so much pain, so much fear, that I knew to leave her to her own devices probably wasn’t the smartest idea.
I knew personally what happened when one was left to deal with their demons on their own.
“Trinity, if you don’t open this door, I’m opening it myself, whether you like it or not.”
I heard footsteps on the other side—slow but moving. A few seconds felt like an eternity as I waited for her to open the door. When she finally did, my heart sank.
Her makeup was a mess—eye shadow smeared, eyeliner and mascara running down her face as it mingled with tears, lipstick faded and smudged. Her hair was a mess, like she’d taken down her ponytail and just tossed and turned on the bed until it knotted into an unrecognizable mess.
She had only been alone for an hour at most. How had she dissolved so quickly?
“We need to talk,” I whispered, tapping into some of my own PTSD therapy sessions to help her, in whatever way I could. “I’m coming in.”
“No,” she protested, but I shoved past her, refusing to let her ignore me.
I sat on the edge of the bed and patted the spot beside me, taking in the changes she’d made over the past few days as I waited for her to cave in.
The walls were still bare, but she’d done her best to make the room more lived-in, starting with the pile of clothes in the far corner. She hung some strange tapestry on the far wall, the colors faded, but still striking in comparison to the flat primer that adorned the walls of the room meant for her brother. It had been left unfinished, in the hopes that he could decorate it when he finally joined us.
But he never did.
And we never had the heart to touch it.
The bed sank under her weight as she flung herself down beside me with a heavy sigh. “What do you want, Asher? Here to tell me that staying is too dangerous? That I can’t go back to work? That I might as well just pack up and go home?”
Yes. Yes to all of that.“Well, not exactly.”Shit.
She didn’t look like she believed me. Fair, considering I didn’t believe myself.
“What do you want, then?”
“I want to make sure you’re okay.” I held my hands open, offering her a gentle smile. “Did you get injured in the scuffle today?”
Her left brow climbed to her hairline. “You want to make sure I’m okay?” She glanced down at herself, and I spotted the smudges from where she’d clearly tried to dry her eyes and pulled away her makeup instead. “Do Ilookokay? I’m not injured physically, if that’s what you mean.”
“What about up here?” I tapped a finger against her temple knowingly. “Sometimes we’re okay on the outside, and broken on the inside.”
“How would you know about something like that?”
My lips twitched, but I refused to let her turn me sour. “Let’s just say I still have demons of my own I deal with every day.”
Her eyes looked heavy, and against my better judgment, I pulled her into my lap, tugging her against my chest like I would a child who’d lost their mother. She squirmed, but I held firm. I might not be as toned as Liam, but I was stronger, bigger, and more determined than this waif of a girl.
She wasn’t getting away.
“You can cry if it helps, Pretty Bird. Sometimes we all need to let it out.” The nickname just slipped out, and even as I cursed myself for using it, I wondered how it’d feel on my tongue if I said it again.
“I’m not scared about today,” she sniffled, and then it was like the dam holding back her emotions burst, letting loose all the emotions her tiny body contained.
That’s it. Cry. It’s better than bottling it all up.
I just didn’t know how she’d feel when the tears dried up and the reality set in, and that scared me more than anything.
