Page 31

“It’s embarrassing,” I murmur into his side. My hand is pressed to his ribs. I’m sure it’s freezing, but he doesn’t squirm or throw it off.

Ambrose’s fingers start working again. “Once, when I was seven, my nanny took me to a petting zoo. I thought the goats were so cute that I decided to climb over the fence and give one a hug. He was white with brown spots, and I named him Gary.”

“Gary?” I chuckle, already relaxing.

“He looked like a Gary. This probably would’ve been fine, but one of them didn’t like the look of me and charged.

I got so scared, I ran backwards until I hit the fence.

When I tried to climb over, my shirt got caught on the post. There was a rusty nail that sliced into my chest, and I had to get seventeen stitches and a tetanus shot, because my nanny was human and had no idea about healing potions. To this day, I am terrified of goats.”

I lift my head and look at the scar. It’s just above his left peck and practically hidden under his lightly furred chest.

“You could’ve lost a nipple,” I say seriously.

“I know. Can you imagine?” he says in a horrified voice and then laughs. I trace a finger over the scar. Ambrose sighs and goosebumps break out on his skin.

“My dad used to lock me outside when it would storm.” Ambrose’s whole body tenses beneath my cheek.

“I guess I’ve always been afraid of them, and one time, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

He said that the only way I would get over this stupid fear was to face it head on.

So he pushed me outside in the rain and commanded me to stay out there until the storm was over. ”

I shiver as the memory of how cold that night was resurfaces. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been, my fingers feel stiff from the freezing rain, my face frozen. All those memories rushing back as if it was just yesterday.

“How old were you?” Ambrose’s fingers have stopped moving. Now they’re just gripping the nape of my neck tightly. It’s oddly comforting.

“I was six when he started doing it.”

“Motherfucker,” Amber hisses.

“It’s funny because lightning struck a tree in our backyard that night. I was so close, all of the hairs on my arms stood up straight. You could feel the electric charge in the air. But it’s the thunder that always makes my stomach jump into my throat. Isn’t that silly?”

“No, none of it’s silly.”

Ambrose resumes scratching his nails over my scalp. It’s relaxing. I’m finally warm from the heat of his body and even the storm outside doesn't seem too bad.

“How did you get away from Tucker? He doesn’t seem like he would’ve been okay with you moving out.”

I chuckle a little into Ambrose’s side. “I blackmailed him.”

“What?” Ambrose’s question comes out with a loud bark of laughter. “I always knew you were devious, Pipes. What did you do?”

“Tucker had been using my trust fund money to cover the cost of being my guardian. In reality, he was spending it on a lot of unnecessary things. Vacations for himself, expensive cars. I didn’t mind the vacations, because that meant he’d be gone.

But when I turned eighteen, the trust fund officially became mine.

He couldn’t access the money without my say-so.

He tried to command me to sign over access, but I already talked to my financial advisor, and I made sure it could never be signed into Tucker’s name.

“I told Tucker that I would give him an allowance as long as he let me leave. But if he tried to make me stay, then evidence would be submitted to the police of his misuse of my money. I gave all of the documents to Josephine, Ava, and Stellan so they could take it to the police if necessary. It took me a while to figure out how to get free. And even then, I wasn’t really.

Not even when I had my own place. All it took was one phone call and I was his to command.

Not until you.” Ambrose squeezes me to his side.

“What was it like growing up here? When you weren’t being chased down by goats?”

Ambrose inhales, the sound weighted. “It was lonely.”

I crook my head back on his arm, so I can look at Ambrose, but he’s staring at the silent TV.

“I don’t think I have much to complain about, knowing how awful the parents of my friends were, how awful your experience was.”

I open my mouth to protest, but Ambrose shakes his head.

“In the scheme of things, it could’ve been worse, but my parents were never here.

I don’t think I’ve had one birthday where they were around to celebrate.

They missed every event in my life that was worthwhile; graduations, the onset of my curse.

They wouldn’t even call, or if they did, it wasn’t to talk to me.

My mother would fire the nanny after about a year or so because she didn’t want me to get too attached to anyone.

” Ambrose snorts. “Isn’t that incredible.

She wasn’t interested in creating a relationship with me, but she also didn’t want anyone else to have one either.

But I had a roof over my head and food on my plate. Much more than that, obviously.”

“Just because you weren’t out on the street doesn’t mean that you weren’t abandoned. That’s just a different kind of abuse.” My heart aches for him. Even in this, he doesn’t feel like his past is enough.

“My friends saved me. They became my family.”

I know exactly how he feels, because my friends kept me sane. They provided the small pockets of light in an otherwise dark existence.

Ambrose slides his hand over his stomach until the tips of his fingers meet with mine. We lace our fingers together and rest them on his chest as we drift to sleep.