Page 89 of I Will Mend You
She stares back, her eyes misting with tears. “Can you climb over?”
I glance up the length of the gate, finding no curls or crossbars or convenient footholds. Releasing Camila’s hands, I reach up and grab the bars. They’re too smooth, too straight, and I don’t have the upper body strength to haul myself up.
When I lift a foot to scale, my slippers find little purchase. It’s even worse than crawling out of an open grave.
Jynxson steps forward, but Camila elbows him in the gut and flicks her head to a point behind my shoulder. The gesture is so exaggerated that I’m forced to turn around, and I meet Xero’s unwavering gaze.
His hand lands on my shoulder, warm and strong and solid. As his fingers tighten with gentle reassurance, the rusty gears in my mind start turning, bringing me closer to a dawning realization.
My gaze darts to the side to find Jynxson and Camila both staring at what’s standing at my back. Hope flickers in my chest, igniting a spark of possibility. I turn again, my breath catching in my throat, heart hammering hard enough to crack my ribs. My eyes widen with disbelief, and the world narrows to a single figure.
It’s Xero, standing tall and majestic.
Moonlight filters through his platinum hair, casting a soft glow over his chiseled features. His high cheekbones and strong jawline are thrown into sharp relief, while his eyes, illuminated in the pale light, seem to burn with blue flames. The sight of him, almost otherworldly in the night, jolts me back to razor-sharp awareness.
If they can see him, that means…
“Xero?” My voice is a fragile whisper.
He nods, his eyes filled with a gentle sadness. “It’s me, little ghost.”
My eyes well up with tears. “But… You’re dead. I saw you. I saw the fire.”
Xero takes my hands, his grip firm and reassuring, grounding me to this newfound reality. “I survived,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “And I haven’t stopped trying to get you back.”
I shake my head, loosening tears that stream down my cheeks. “No… How? Don’t you want me dead?”
His gaze softens, and he brushes away the tears with a tenderness that breaks me further. “I saw that video. They wanted to break you, but you survived.”
My sobs intensify, my body wracked with pain and guilt. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry.”
He pulls me into his arms, holding me in a hug so tight that I could melt into his strong chest. “It’s not your fault,” he murmurs into my curls, his breath warm and comforting against my scalp. “You were manipulated, mentally tortured for longer than you even realize. But you’re free now. We’re free.”
The words only make me sob harder. All the pent-up emotions rise from the pit of my stomach like a tsunami, threatening to consume what’s left of my mind. I cling onto Xero’s waist like he’s the only lifeline in this tidal wave of self-recrimination and regret.
He strokes my hair, sending tingles across my scalp. “You’re the strongest person I know. And now, we have a second chance. We can heal together.”
A second chance? That’s far too generous. As he holds me tight, murmuring words of reassurance, doubt gnaws at my spirit. Despite this, his words sink into my heart, replacing the fear with a tentative hope. Gratitude swells in my chest, so overwhelming that it might burst.
“How did you find me?” I ask.
“That asshole priest gave us a lead,” he replies.
“That was you on the bus?”
He nods.
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?” he asks.
“I’m sorry for attacking you.”
He chuckles. “You fought like a little banshee.”
“Thank you,” I murmur into his chest. “Thank you for never giving up on me.”
“I promised you once that we would always be together. Until the end of time,” he says, his voice thick. “And everyone who hurt you will die slowly.”