Page 9 of Knot So Damaged

“I just don’t know if I am ready yet.”

“Will you at least consider it?” she questions.

I nod, knowing that I will. It has been years since everything went down. I need to move on from what happened. I can’t allow myself to remain stagnant.

I deserve to find true happiness.

I deserve to love and be loved.

It just may take me a while.

Chapter Three

After Luna left, I followed the tiny chatter down the hallway, finding Amity in a sea of her dolls. It was impossible to not join her as I allowed myself to indulge in the childhood throwback.

The day seemed to fly by then as we went through our regular Saturday routine. I didn’t notice it at first but as the sun began to set, a feeling of nervousness started to settle in my stomach.

I know I shouldn’t be anxious about returning to work.

I have no doubt in my mind that those Alphas got rid of the CEO—the man's name something I never bothered to remember—but the unsettling feeling still lingers as I begin getting ready for work.

I try to replay my mantra over and over in my head.

I am okay. I am safe. No one can hurt me anymore.

Yet, it doesn’t seem to give me that comforting edge that it normally does. I don’t stop repeating it though. It took months for it to catch when I first escaped.

I hate thinking about that time.

The time where I was the most vulnerable.

Newly pregnant and on the run in a city that I had never been in before.

I startle when I hear the knock at the door, gasping and clutching at my chest. I give myself a moment to breathe through my panic before checking my watch. I berate myself as I realize that it's just Mrs. Perry coming to start looking after Amity.

I knew I shouldn’t have gotten caught up in my head thinking about my old life. It has never done me any good before. But since Mr. CEO got too handsy, it has been creeping in on me more than I would like.

Maybe it's time to finally speak to a therapist. Yet, as the thought comes to mind, I banish it, knowing that I won’t ever spend that kind of money on myself. I can barely buy myself new clothes—even if they are only from the thrift store.

Putting down the mascara I am lucky I didn’t stab my eye with, I take a breath, making my way to the front door and greet my babysitter.

Instantly, the older woman can see the stress on my face. She doesn’t say a single word, folding me into her arms and holds me for a moment before letting me go.

“Is the rugrat in her room?” she questions, putting her bag down on the kitchen bench.

I nod, not able to say anything with the threat of tears spilling thanks to the motherly gesture.

Grabbing a hold of my shoulder, she gives me a slight squeeze. “Go finish getting ready, I’ve got her from here.”

Swallowing back more tears that threaten to fall, I head back into my room. Rummaging through my draws I try to find the right outfitto wear. Just as I am about to pick the more modest set that I used to wear when I first started stripping, my phone buzzes.

Lulu:

You better not be wearing that granny set tonight, V. Fuck those creeps. They don’t own you. Remember exactly who the fuck you are.

Me:

I swear you are a mind reader.