Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
“I know.”
“I'm not. . .” I touched my chest. My voice scratched at the end. “I'm not that fucked up. Do you understand? I'm not. . .that fucked up.”
“Mysh.” He rushed off the bed and captured me in his huge arms. “Nothing about you is fucked up.”
I shivered against him. “A different person? Y-you’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“So, I. . .She. . .I. . .killed them?”
“You did.”
“T-the way I did as the Tinder Killer?”
“Exactly that way. Sliced throat, holy cross to the chest, and hacking off the dick—”
“No. No. That part of me is gone—”
“I believe she is the Tinder Killer. This is who you become when you are sad or suffering, she takes over—”
“No. No. No.” I tried to get out of his hold.
He wouldn't let me go. “I wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't seen it myself.”
“But. . .”
“I watched her and talked to her for a few hours.”
“I don't remember.”
“She said you would not.”
“S-she knows me?”
“She does.”
“No.” Terrified, I wrapped my arms around him, needing to be anchored in every sense of the word. “This isn't. . .”
“I called her Lunita because she said that your mother would call you that. Do you remember this nickname or anything close to it?”
My nerves frazzled until every part of me shook with fear.
He's confused or something. This doesn't make sense.
I closed my eyes and tightened my hold around him.
“Mysh, do you remember the nickname?”
“I-I don't remember anything about my mother.” I trembled. “And. . .I don't want this. . .”
“I know.”
“I don't want to believe you.” I opened my eyes. Tears spilled from them. “I don't want to be this fucked up, Kaz. Please be lying. P-please.”
“I would never lie to you, mysh.” He placed his hand on my chin, and directed my view to him. “And you are not fucked up.”
“I have another personality. Isn't that what you're trying to tell me?”
“Yes, but—”
“And it kills people?”
“Yes.”
“Then I am the highest level of fucked up!”
“You are not—”
“Don't do that, Kaz.” I tried to leave his arms. “Just don't.”
He held me tighter. “Don't do what?”
“Don't try to sugar coat this and put rainbows over a field covered in piles of shit and—”
“You are not fucked up.” He stated with conviction and glared at me. “Do not talk about my mouse that way. Do you understand?”
More tears left me.
“My mouse is a brilliant woman who could kick my ass and pretty much most of the men in the Brotherhood.”
My bottom lip quivered.
“My mouse saves people because her heart is too damn big for her own good. And she loves.” Kaz's voice rose. “She loves with the passion of a million people—”
“But, Kaz—”
“She heals monsters. I know this. . .” He sighed. “Because she healed me.”
The hot wetness of my tears soaked my cheeks, I buried my face between his bicep and chest and inhaled his scent, needing his strength and love to anchor me.
Kaz's voice softened. “My mouse was hurt when she was a kid.”
My heart ached.
“She wasn't protected like she should have been.” Kaz held me closer. “So perhaps, her mind figured out a way to. . .deal with all the pain that she shouldn't have experienced.”
My head spun.
“So. . .sometimes. . .she's a great terror to behold.”
I could barely stand. The only reason I was still on my feet was because he held me to him and kept me balanced.
“Still. . .there's so much beauty in the madness.”
I sobbed against him.
“But now the Lion is here, and absolutely no one.” His body rocked against me. Death lay in each word. “Not one person will harm my mouse again.”
Chapter 8
New Normal
Kazimir
Emily stepped back from me. Her face was blank, her eyes distant.
“Talk to me, mysh.”
“I feel like the walls are coming down around me.” My mouse raised her hands to her neck and held it. “And it's hard to breathe.”
“Then, we go to where there are no walls.” I gathered our robes. “And where you feel like you can truly breathe.”
Emily wiped her tears. “Where is that?”
“We will just go and keep going until you feel better.” I helped her put on her robe. Next, I put on mine.
From the corner of the room, Harlem looked up from his dog bed, stretched, and then trotted our way. He sniffed the air for a moment and then wagged his tail.
“Fine.” I frowned at Harlem. “You can come too.”
Hand-in-hand, we left the bedroom, headed through the hall, went down the stairs, and then left the presidential suite.
My new guard Wassily silently rose. He pulled out his phone, typed into it, and then followed us.
I hope he isn’t waking anyone up.
It had taken tons of arguing to get King David, Maxwell, Boris, and Blue to go to their rooms and get some sleep. But once I roared, they scattered away.
I knew Maxwell would have wanted me to call and tell him that she was up. But now that I had her back, I wouldn’t share her with anyone for a while.