Page 50 of Find Me

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Okay. Let’s get some sleep.”

I took his hand in mine and forced my eyes closed.

17

I couldn’t look awayfrom my dad’s mutilated body. I took a step back. Then another. A hand touched my shoulder and I let out a scream. That hand quickly went to my mouth to try and silence me.

“It’s me.” It was Shayla. I whirled around to face her. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and fear had seeded deep within her eyes. “We need to leave. He’s in the house,” she whispered.

I didn’t need her to tell me who “he” was. I nodded frantically. Holding hands, we took a step to leave. A crash came from the other side of the house, followed by our mom’s scream that sent a trembling wave of fear through every bone in my body. The sound of running on the hardwood floor echoed through the house next. The running sounded closer and closer. Shayla pushed me back, further into the living room, and pulled me to the floor behind the couch our dad’s corpse was lying on.

It was a second later when panting breaths and my mom’s pain-filled yell sounded in the room. Shayla squeezed my hand as we listened to wrestling. The lamp was knocked over, but it didn’t break. My mom cried out before a thud vibrated through the floor.

I knew I shouldn’t have looked but I couldn’t stop myself. I peeked around the side of the couch. My mom was on the ground, crying as she stared up at Mr. X, who was straddling her. He had her pinned with a large, bloody knife at her throat. A gasp escaped me. It hadn’t been loud, but it caught my mom’s attention. Our eyes met for only a moment before she forced herself to look back at Mr. X. In that brief moment her emotions switched rapidly. First there was surprise to see me, then worry. Both had been shadowed with terror.

“Where is she?” he growled.

My mom’s expression hardened, as if determined.

“Where is she?!” Mr. X shouted in her face.

“Go to hell!” she wailed as she thrashed at him.

Mr. X lifted the knife from her neck, rose it high above his head, and brought it down. My mom’s breath hitched, eyes wide as the knife plunged into her chest. Mr. X withdrew the knife and brought it down again, stabbing her over and over.

* * *

“Shi.”

I opened tear-flooded eyes to a blurry shadow in the shape of a man holding me in their arms. Panic seized my heart. “No!” I cried out and pushed at their chest to get away. He let go and I scrambled to my knees.

His hand locked around my arm. “Shi, it’s me,” he said at the same time the light flicked on, revealing Creed kneeling in front of me.

My fear-induced adrenaline began to fade as I glanced around. Colt was standing next to the bed with sleep-tousled hair. I looked back at Creed. The movement of my eyes caused more tears to fall down my drenched cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, my gaze dropping. This would be it. I knew it. This would be what scared them away. I had too many issues—too much trauma that I was failing to deal with. Who would want to put up with that? I covered my face with my hands as sobs rattled through my body. I was beginning to hunch over, wanting to cave into myself, and my forehead met a chest.

Creed wrapped his arms around me. “It’s okay.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not.”

Creed’s hands moved to my wrists and pulled my hands away from my face. “Hey,” he said, trying to get me to look at him. I couldn’t. I was afraid of what I’d see. His fingers curled under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. I met his beautiful aquamarine eyes. Concern was etched around them. “Talk to me,” he pleaded.

“I’m a fucking mess,” I forced out with a wobbly voice. “I’m waiting for you to realize it and walk away.”

Creed’s eyes went wide. “You just said ‘fucking.’”

The bed dipped behind me. “What are you talking about, babe?” Colt asked, putting his hand on my back.

“I’m still dealing with the loss of my family. I have moments or days where I can’t hold myself together. Yesterday is a perfect example of that. It’s not fair to either of you to be burdened with this—with me.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to find the strength to say what I needed to next. I opened my eyes again with a little determination and a whole lot of heartache. “You two should go.” They both looked stricken. “If you don’t go now, I’ll grow more attached.”

Neither of them moved.

“Please!” I cried. “I’m more trouble than I’m worth. I cry more than I smile. I have nightmares—”

Creed grabbed my face with both hands and slammed his lips onto mine. At first, I was so taken aback that I was frozen like a statue. Creed pulled back a little to look me in the eye. “I’m already attached,” he said before returning his lips to mine.

My body slowly softened, and I kissed him back. Creed wasn’t gentle. His lips demanded everything I could give and when his tongue slipped past my lips to taste mine, he groaned, pushing me backward. My back collided with a chest.