Page 60 of Reverie

He doesn’t trust me to handle his truth.

So yeah, I avoid the quiet.

But Hunter and I had a breakthrough last night. I can feel it. He’s so scared that he’s going to lose me, and while it’d be easy to say that he shouldn’t worry, the reality is…he should.

We all should be scared.

But I meant what I said last night. Living in hiding isn’t living at all.

I would know.

I spent so many years fearing the very real and imagined danger of Adam Collins. I was so terrified that it changed my brain chemistry. That fear of death forced me to lock myself away.

Ididlock myself away. For years.

And while this situation isn’t that situation at all, one truth connects both of them: If we spend our days running from death, we’ll die bit by bit every day until there’s nothing left of us.

And when that happens, what’s the point?

When a knock on my door comes an hour after Hunter leaves, I’m apprehensive and curious about who could be on the other side.

“Bitch, I know you ain’t sleep. Open the goddamn door.” The words make me laugh because they’re so incredibly Veronica.

“Hold on,” I call out, and I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Kitty beats me to it, pawing at the wood with excitement.

I barely have the door open before Veronica barrels in with Summer in tow, slamming it closed quickly.

“Damn, girl. You ran in here like you’re running from the Boogeyman,” I say, laughing.

Veronica doesn’t respond to my joke. Instead, she marches into the bathroom, and seconds later, I’m greeted by the sound of the shower.

“Rons?” I step into the bathroom. When I’m at the doorjamb, I say, “You know I’m always happy to share whatever I have, but—eep!”

I let out a short squeak when Veronica wrenches my arm, pulling me into the bathroom before slamming the door shut.

“What the hell, Veronica?” I nearly shout, and Veronica immediately claps her free hand over my mouth.

“Shh!” she snaps. As she bounces Summer in the crook of her arm, even the baby gives me a fierce side-eye.

“Why are youshushing me, and why are we standing in my bathroom?” I mumble from behind her hand.

“Keep your voice down, Winter. I have news and am uncertain about several people surrounding us right now.”

I raise both eyebrows in surprise.

“Keep your voice low,” she says, and the look she gives me edges out all amusement. I nod my assent.

“I talked to the Ukrainian,” she says.

“He has a name, you know. It’s Misha,” I add. She waves her hand in the air, dismissing my statement.

“I also talked to Rio,” she says.

“Rio?” I question. Not that she can’t or shouldn’t talk to Rio. But why?

“I don’t know if you’re aware of the magnitude of shit you’ve gotten us into, Winter.” Her voice has a bite to it, and by the set of her jaw, I know that Veronica is more than angry. She’s scared.