Page 92 of The First Cut

I look at Tracey and May. “You want to join us for hot chocolate? I don’t know what food is in the kitchen, but I could cook.”

They look at each other for a moment before they smile. “Yeah, hot chocolate sounds good,” May agrees.

Tracey walks up to Millie and squeezes her arm lightly. “I’m in the mood for cookies. My nana taught me her recipe for the best cookies on the planet, but I never make them because I always end up making far too many. Trust me, this ass does not need any more cookies sticking to it,” she jokes, making Millie giggle.

Tracey slips her arm through Millie’s and tugs her away from me, leaving me standing with May. She’s quiet for a minute, so I wait for her, not sure what I’m supposed to say.

“Driller was always rough.”

I rear back as if she slapped me, the unexpectedness of that comment throwing me for a loop.

“Lot of girls tried to avoid him if they could, ‘cept for Razzle, but she was into that fucked-up shit.”

I wrap my arms around myself, waiting for the rest.

“One time, I was the only one around, and he was in a mood. I won’t go into details, but let’s just say he put me out of commission for a week.”

I swallow down bile, my breathing turning ragged as I fight off memories that are better forgotten.

“He said something, though, as he was leaving. I thought he was just being weird at the time, but it stuck with me.”

I don’t want to know. Nothing good can come from this, and yet I find myself asking anyway. “What did he say?”

“He said I was a good fuck, but nobody broke for him the way you did.”

Tears sting my eyes as I look away, feeling shame creep over me. I feel a hand on my arm. I turn back and find her watching me, a certain knowing in her eyes that unites us in a way too many women are familiar with.

“You weren’t hiding from us. You were hiding from him.”

“I was hiding from myself. From what he turned me into. And sometimes, I was hiding from everyone else. They all believed the lie. And eventually, it was easier just to let them.”

Before she can say anything, Snoopy sticks his head out the door and takes us all in, a frown appearing on his face. “You can come in now. What’s going on?”

“We’re going to bake cookies,” Tracey tells him, leading Millie inside. She turns to look back at me just as May takes my hand.

“Yeah,” I whisper, swallowing around a lump in my throat. “The four of us are going to bake cookies.”

Lips on my bare shoulder rouse me from sleep. My eyes flutter open at the comforting smell of Hannibal’s shower gel and the faint hint of smoke.

“Hannibal?” I roll over and take in his damp hair and tired eyes as he leans over me and kisses me.

“Hey baby,” he murmurs against my lips. “I missed you.” He pulls back and looks down at me, smoothing my hair from my face. “I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”

“My nerves were frazzled. I just felt safer here, which is ironic.” I glance over when I remember I fell asleep in here with Millie.

“She’s in the kitchen, eating a stack of pancakes with Snoopy and Gunther.”

“Okay, good. I need to talk to you about her. But first, tell me what happened. Is Nevaeh okay? Did you catch Driller?”

“Driller attacked Probe before lying in wait for Nevaeh.”

“Oh god.”

“He did get her pinned down. But her father, of all people, beat the shit out of him with a rock.”

“I don’t understand.”

He blows out a breath, which turns into a chuckle. “Driller got taken out by a preacher. It almost feels like higher powers were at work here,” he jokes.