A knock sounded and I jumped, my heart rate picking up immediately.
I grabbed a bathrobe and threw it over before I went to the door, trying to banish my unreasonable anxiety. This was my home. I was safe here.
When I opened the door, Mom smiled at me. “I just wanted to check on you.”
I let her in. “Is Dad home?”
“Yes, he’s downstairs with your uncles, discussing their plans for tomorrow. He wants to tell you good night later.”
I smiled, feeling reminded of all the times he did it when I was younger.
Mom hesitated then touched my shoulder. “Is there anything you want to talk to me about?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m fine for now.” There were so many things I was confused about, I needed time to sort through them before I could talk to anyone.
“Will you be all right alone tonight? I could stay with you.”
I kissed Mom’s cheek. “I’ll be fine, Mom. I’m not scared of the dark.”
Mom nodded, but I could tell she still worried about me. “Good night then.” After she left, I put on one of my favorite nightgowns to feel more like myself again and slipped under the covers. As I lay awake, I made the decision to transform the tattoo on my back into something that proved I was stronger than Earl thought I could ever be. I wouldn’t hide or back down. I’d attack.
I picked up my phone and began searching tattoo artists. I wouldn’t let anyone’s judgment determine who I was. Not now, not ever.
Despite my words, horrible images haunted me the moment I turned off the lights. Crude tattoos, cut-off pieces of me, torn-apart bodies, and fighting dogs. My stomach churned.
A knock made me jerk up in bed. “Yes?” I called, sounding shaky.
Dad stepped in, brows puckering. “Are you all right, Princess?”
“Can you not call me that?” I asked, remembering the many times Earl or Cody had used the term to make me feel dirty.
Dad stiffened but nodded. He remained by the door as if he suddenly wasn’t sure how to act around me. I could tell he had many questions he wanted to ask, but he didn’t. “I came to wish you a good night.”
“Thanks,” I said quietly. He turned to leave.
“Dad?”
He faced me again.
“I’m coming with you tomorrow when you question the captives.”
“Marci—”
“Please.”
He nodded, but his expression still said no. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but I won’t stop you. Amo and I are going to head over to the prison very early. You should sleep in and come over later with Matteo.”
Once he’d left, I tossed in bed for another hour, but the dark brought up bad memories and I couldn’t sleep with my lights on. In the last few weeks, Maddox had been by my side at night, and no matter how ridiculous it was, I’d felt safe by his side. Now all alone, anxiety got the better of me.
I got out of bed, threw on my bathrobe, and crossed the corridor to Amo’s room. I knocked.
“Come in,” Amo called.
I slipped in and closed the door. Amo sat at his desk in front of his computer, only in sweats. “Playing Fortnight?” I asked, relieved he was back to his routine.
“That’s for kids and losers,” he muttered. “I’m doing research on interrogation methods used by the Mossad and KGB.”
“Oh,” I whispered. I felt a strange sense of loss. My little brother was gone. His sixteenth birthday was still two months away but he had grown up in the weeks I had been gone.
Amo looked up from the screen, frowning. “Do you need help?”
I shook my head. “Can I sleep in here tonight?” I couldn’t remember the last time Amo and I had slept in the same room together. We were too old for sleepovers, but I didn’t know where else to go.
“Sure,” he said slowly, eyeing me critically.
I crawled under the covers. “I’ll sleep at the edge.”
“Don’t worry. I can’t sleep anyway. Too much adrenaline.”
I nodded. “You should play video games again like you used to, you know?”
“I’m going to rip the bikers to shreds tomorrow. That’s the only entertainment I need,” he muttered.
I closed my eyes, hoping Amo would be back to his old self soon, but deep down I knew neither of us could retrieve what was lost.
I didn’t sleep much, so I was already awake and back in my room when Mom knocked at my door early the next morning. My thoughts had revolved around Maddox and my family most of the night.
“Come in,” I said, sitting up in bed. The night had been filled with pain in my back and uncertainty in my heart.
Mom was already dressed in a thin knit dress, and unlike yesterday, her eyes were clear. No sign of tears. She looked resolute as if she’d come to save our whole family single-handedly. She held something in her hand as she headed toward me and perched on the edge of my bed. “I have something for you,” she said. I was glad that she didn’t ask how my night had been. She could probably guess that I’d barely slept. I hoped Amo wouldn’t tell her or Dad that I’d been too scared to sleep in my own room. Tonight I’d stay strong no matter what.