Chapter Two

"Are you sure this is the place?" Milo stands in the living room with his hands on his hips, then spins in a slow circle to get a good look at the place. "I don't know. I'm not comfortable with you being here. Alone."

"I think it's perfect," I whisper, tugging at the ends of my long-sleeved shirt. It's a habit I've acquired to keep my scars covered.

Milo gently grabs my shoulders. I don't flinch when he touches me. I think he might be the only man I'll ever feel completely safe with again.

"This place is so rundown, Mick. It needs a lot of work. I mean, I saw the roof when we came in, it needs replacing. The porch needs to be fixed, most of the windows are broken, and the yard is overgrown. I'm going to either need a blow torch or a machete to get through that jungle."

His joke has me laughing, a sound that is few and far between these days since so much weighs on my soul.

He grins at the success but doesn't say anything about it.

"That's what I like about it, Milo. It needs work." I rub my hands up my arms and cross them, then step over the hole in the floor to stand in front of the sliding glass door. "This place might be able to help me find myself again. I'll put in the work."

"There is a dead something in one of the bedrooms and it reeks." My sister, Minnie, shivers from head to toe as she comes out of the hallway, her face twisting in disgust. "No. Absolutely not, Mick. We have the apartment. It's close to the diner. It's safe. You're safe. I know Milo and I feel better knowing you are with us. You deserve more than this."

I shake my head and turn around, pressing my back against the glass. "I appreciate everything you have done for me in these past six months. You saved me from so much pain, and you've protected me every day since, but I need to do this on my own. I need my own space, my own…" I bite my lip as I search for the word and shake my head. "Freedom."

"You have freedom with us," she frowns. "We would never—"

"—I know," I'm quick to cut her off. "I'm lucky." My eyes begin to water at the thought of not living with them. "You two saved my life, but I'm ready to do this. This place isn't broken. It just needs love. I think this house will help me find myself again. I'll make it my own. It will give me a sense of purpose again. Plus, look at this view." I spin around again and unlock the door.

It slides without issue.

Whew. I really did not want to fight with it, so my siblings have another reason to hate this house.

I step out onto the deck, and yes, I hope I do not fall through the old wood that makes it. Every panel groans and creaks with my weight, something I have proudly gained back since being with my brother and sister.

The waves of constant havoc ease when I inhale the fresh cool air. I rest my elbows on the rail, sending a silent prayer to whatever deck god exists that it doesn't break and send me toppling over the edge.

At least it would be a quick death.

Death doesn't scare me.

It's the prolonged tortured road that leads to it that has me waking up in cold sweats at night.

"I'd live in a tent if it means I get to have this view."

Mountains are all around us, going as far as camouflaging themselves in the distance with fog. A large lake is settled below, the still water disturbed by insects landing and fish breaching the surface.

I'll never admit this out loud because it sounds insane, but there's something in the ominous black water that lures me in. Maybe it's a haunting death that waits for me, a trick to suck me under and never let me reach the surface again.

It's tempting. Life is hard. The nightmares are harder.

I'm damaged. My mind, my body, my heart, and my soul. The cracks are so deep, they can't be repaired, yet my will to live somehow finds a way to be stronger than all of it.

I'm safe here. I don't know how or why, but I feel it.

Long grass swishes together as the wind blows, grazing my cheeks and I close my eyes to enjoy the peace that settles over me.

"I can see you genuinely love it here." Milo stands next to me, mimicking my stance, and leans against the rails. "I only want you happy, Mick. That's all. It's all I've ever wanted. So if this place will make you happy, then we won't stop you."

Minnie sighs, flanking my other side, and presses her cheek against my shoulder. She loops her arm through mine, and we stand there in silence for a minute.

"I guess having all the creamer for the coffee will be nice."

I burst out laughing, knowing I do use way too much creamer in my coffee. There's been more than one occasion where she got mad at me for leaving an empty bottle in the fridge.

I did it on purpose. There was always another bottle behind the milk.

"I'll worry about you."

"Me too," Milo echoes Minnie's concern.

"I'll be okay. I've gotten stronger since…" Bile rises up my throat at the thought of Ty. "Since him. This is my chance to rebuild myself. I can't depend on you two forever."

"Yes, you can. You most definitely can. We don't mind. We are all we have. If it's just us three for the rest of our lives, I'd be fine with that. I don't need anyone else as long as I have my sisters."

I smile, staring at the lake. "I know, but I need this, and I need you two to understand. I need you with me on this."

"We support you." Minnie takes my hand and spins me around to meet her gaze. "We will always support you. If this is what you want, we want it too, and we will help you clean this place up." She holds up a finger. "But I am not touching that dead whatever in the bedroom. I draw the line there."

I chuckle and Milo groans.

"I suppose that will be a job for me."

Minnie and I turn to him with our best puppy dog eyes, then tackle him with a hug, and he wraps his arms around us. His chin rests on the top of my head and his hand rubs up and down my back.

"I have conditions with you being here," he says, causing me to pull away.

Conditions.

"Excuse me?" I become panicked. My breathing begins to speed up, my lungs struggle to expand, and my heart races.

My vision becomes blurry, and I stumble away from him, his face morphing into Tyler's.

"I won't— I won't—" I can't get the words out.

"Mick! No, no, it's okay. It's okay." Minnie wraps her arms around me, cupping the back of my head. "Not those kind of conditions. Never."

Milo wipes a tear from my cheek. I glance up at him, taking a deep breath in, and my cheeks heat with embarrassment. My brother would never put me in danger.

"I'm so sorry," I gasp, resting my head on Minnie's shoulder. I close my eyes, allowing shame to wash over me.

"I'm the one who is sorry. I shouldn't have worded it like that."

I shake my head, anger brewing in my chest at my own fear. "Don't. Don't tiptoe around me. Don't think about what you have to say. I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"I only meant that I want to install a security system, a damn good one. I want windows monitored, and fingerprint scanners on every door— I want this place locked down. You obviously come and go as you please, Mickey, but when you are home, every single way into this house will be safeguarded. Please?" he asks desperately with a pinch of his brows, a wrinkle forming in between them.

I nod quickly in agreement. "That sounds good to me. How can we afford that?"

"We still have a chunk of life insurance money from Mom and Dad," Minnie admits. "We've invested some of it. We aren't rich or anything, but we can live a decent life. We didn't spend your chunk, so it's yours whenever you want it."

"You saved some for me? Even when…" I bury my face in my hands, sobbing, the guilt awakening from the home it's built inside my bones.

"We know you couldn't come to Mom and Dad's funeral. We don't hold that against you. We know you couldn't leave that house without risking your life. You were barely surviving, Mick. It isn't like you chose not to come because you went shopping instead. You were trapped." Milo takes my hand and tugs me to him, his palm cupping my face. "If you are looking to be forgiven, then fine, you're forgiven, but don't blame yourself. It isn't your fault. You would have been there if not for him."

I sniffle, glancing out onto the lake again, wanting nothing more than to strip bare and go for a swim. Maybe then the filth that lingers on my skin will wash away. I don't want to be this person anymore. I need to be different because this version of myself is slowly killing me.

Sometimes, I wonder if death would be easier because surviving is so hard.

"I think you're right, Mick. This place will be good for you. It needs healing and I think it will help you do the same." Minnie runs her fingers through my hair, smiling at me. "I'm still not touching that dead thing."

Another laugh bubbles free as I stand from my crouched position at the corner of the deck. I don't remember backing myself into that corner or sitting, but I suppose that's the thing with trauma when it surfaces, it blacks everything out to leave you in a murky fog.

"So when do you sign the papers?"

I wipe the dirt from my jeans. "I already have. I did a few days ago right before buying my car. This place is mine. I've been cleaning out one of the spare rooms and it's livable. I'm having my bed brought over today."

"Today? Woah, wait a minute. Mick. This place is not ready for you to stay at. It's a gust of wind away from falling apart. I need to check the foundation, the structure, the—"

"It's fine. I've had it checked." I tap my hand on his chest. "It's safe. It doesn't look it but looks can be deceiving."

He points to the roof. "There is a hole in the roof, Mick. A hole." He moves his hand to point inside. "There is the bucket to catch whatever falls through said hole. How is that safe?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know but it has to be safer than my previous home."

Minnie gasps.

Milo rolls his lips together.

And a giggle slips from me.

"Did you… did you just make a joke?" Milo questions, the corners of his lips fighting to grin due to the uncomfortable reality that this house is a million times better than my situation with Ty.

"I did." I hold my chin up high.

"Dark. And fucked up." He shakes his finger at me. "You know I can't laugh at that. That's wrong."

"Just trying to figure out my healing process."

Milo throws an arm around my neck, and we all walk back inside just as the alarm on his watch beeps.

"Damn. I have to head to the diner. I'll be back later tonight." He digs out his wallet and hands me a debit card with my name on it.

"What's this?"

"It's your account with your chunk of the money in it. We've been waiting to give it to you."

Minnie steps in to explain. "We didn't want you to feel rushed or pressured. We haven't been hiding it from you. We wanted you to focus on yourself first."

"And this looks like you're ready to move on. To do that, money will help," Milo adds. "You can make this house your home."

His watch beeps again and he sighs. "Okay, I have to go. I'm going to be late."

"Me too. Demi wants to talk to me."

I tuck the card in my back pocket. "Is everything okay? I mean, you aren't in trouble or anything, right?"

"No, I don't think so. She's been happy with our work. I think. Well, now I'm in my head about it." Her hand falls to her stomach, and she takes a deep breath in. "I'm nervous."

"Let's go before we do have something to worry about." Milo ushers her to the door.

I step over the hole in the floor again to walk them to their car. When Milo opens the door, the handle falls off into his hand.

He holds the rusted gold piece of garbage in the air, lifting an eyebrow.

Wincing, I take it from him and toss it behind me. "I'll fix that today."

"You better or you aren't staying here tonight." He steps outside, his sneakers brushing against the cracked sidewalk, small scuffs sounding. Milo pushes the long arms of overgrown weeds from his path, reminding me to add lawn supplies to the list of things to get.

I might be over my head, but I can do this.

I need to do this.

"My God, what are you going to do with that atrocious thing?" Milo gapes at the gigantic statue in my yard.

I swear it wasn't there this morning, but maybe I wasn't looking.

It couldn't have been. I wouldn't have missed a gargoyle statue in the middle of my lawn. I have to lift my knees high to walk through the brush to get to the gargoyle. My eyes drift over the stone form. From the wide shoulders and chiseled abdomen to the large wings tucked behind his back.

I'm pulled to it.

The gargoyle is huge, hulking over my brother by a few feet. This thing has to be eight feet when it isn't crouched. Even in this position, it is taller than Milo, and definitely taller than me.

Another burst of wind blows. Long grass rustles again and tickles my legs. My hair grazes my cheeks and the clouds in the sky become darker, casting a shadow over us.

"I think it's beautiful," I whisper, not expecting anyone to hear me.

"If you say so," Minnie grumbles.

"You can't actually be thinking of keeping it here? It's… creepy," Milo tries to sound reasonable, but it falls on ears that are not listening. "It will scare everyone away."

"Good," I say fast and without doubt. "I don't want anyone here besides you two."

"Okay, well, if you change your mind, I'll get a sledgehammer."

I spin around and stand protectively in front of my gargoyle.

Not my gargoyle, but my statue.

"You aren't allowed to touch it. I want it here. It's beautiful. Someone took the time to sculpt this. That must have taken so much time and energy. You can't destroy art, Milo. That's awful." I rein in my anger, my protection, and swallow it down.

Maybe it's because this statue is on my property. It's mine to care for now.

Milo clicks his tongue. "Okay, Mick. Whatever you want. We have to go. Be safe. Keep your phone on. And don't buy that security system, I'm going to, okay? We love you."

"Love you!" Minnie echoes, blowing me a kiss.

The old doors creak open. Milo and Minnie hop inside the vintage Bronco that has seen better days. Milo slaps the door in goodbye as he reverses down the driveway.

I'm alone.

I take a deep breath, the air a bit damp from the storm brewing above.

Tracing the claws on the gargoyle, I then slide my hand up its thick forearms, my mouth suddenly becoming dry.

"I prefer to be alone," I say to the silent statue, knowing it can't talk back. "There's less worry that way, you know? I'm not afraid of my own company." I place my foot on one of its bulging thighs, my hand cupping its shoulder, and I pull myself up its body. "You really are giant. Where did you come from?" I trace its features, my finger dragging across his jaw.

Next, I travel over its teeth. Long fangs show through a snarl, its top lip curling as if it sees something it doesn't like.

"You're attractive in a way I shouldn't find you to be because I really dislike men. I never want to be with one again." My finger grazes over the strong bridge of his nose, then to his long pointed ears. "But you aren't a man, are you? You're just a statue. I don't have to worry about you torturing me or keeping me chained up. You'll protect me, right?"

Ty's voice whispers in the back of my mind, "Stupid Girl. Talking to an inanimate object as if it cares about you. No one will care about you like I did. You'll do well to remember that."

I swallow hard, resting my forehead on the statue's chest. "You're warm." I lean away, flattening my hand in the middle of its chest. "So warm. Probably from the sun." I jump down, taking one last look at the stone beast.

I find peace in its presence because while I prefer to be alone, I am lonely.

And those are two completely different feelings.