Page 7 of Shattered Trinket

River raises a brow in amusement, and the dads follow suit as everyone crams into my room and stands outside the closet door, peeking in. I finally pull back, wiping my cheeks and give them all a thankful, though tearful, smile as I look up at my chosen family.

“Thank you. All of you,” I tell each person standing outside the door, looking at Damien last and holding his dark stare hostageas I try to convey how very appreciative I am for him building me the nest with my eyes.

Damien shrugs, like it was no big deal, but to me it is.

“Okay, Little Bird. Time to go home. Cozy is probably exhausted after all the excitement today and ready to settle into her new room,” River tells Ripley, holding his hand out to her but not coming inside the closet.

I give him a grateful look for not invading my new-to-me space while he gives me an understanding one in return, smiling tenderly at me.

Ripley stands, helping Valley and me up, and giving me a tight hug before she leaves me and walks into her omega’s arms. They all tell me goodnight as they walk out of the room, Ripley promising to text me later as they practically drag her out the door, though I’m unsure how she plans to do that when I don’t have a phone.

I follow Valley out of the closet when they’re all gone, and she shoos her alphas out before pulling something out of her pocket and holding it out for me to take. It’s a cell phone, one with a touch screen that looks brand new, and I almost tell her it’s too much, but she stops me before I can.

“So you can get ahold of us if you need to, while giving you some independence back. You’ll want to leave the house by yourself eventually, even if you don’t think so right now. I’ve already programmed all our numbers in, and Ripley downloaded a few apps she thought you could use, so it’s all set up for you.”

With one last hug and kiss on my cheek, she whispers, “Now get some rest. If you need me, I’m just two doors down to the left.”

And then it’s just me alone with my thoughts in my very own bedroom.

I quickly find some pajamas in the dresser across from the bed to change into and turn to the bed. For the first time in a long time, I feel giddy as I give myself a moment to act like every bit the child that I feel right here in this moment. With a running start, I jump on the bed into the pile of pillows and plushies, rolling around and nuzzling against the softness. Something deep inside of me urges me to rub myself over every inch of this bed, and I listen to that instinct for probably the first time in my life.

When my hair is a frizzy mess, covering my eyes, and my heart feels content, I climb under the quilt and grab one of the plushies to snuggle with. It’s a big, squishy, teal Yeti that is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, and incredibly soft as well. As I hug it to my chest, I sigh in contentment, finding it extremely nice to have something to cuddle with.

My eyes feel heavy, drooping of their own accord when I get comfortable. When they finally close, he’s there, the one person I still haven’t talked to anyone but Ripley about.

My Ghost.

I know it’s wrong; I know it’s likely a result of my traumas, and I’ve probably latched onto him because he was the only bright spot in my dark prison, but Jeremiah was always the one thing that felt like mine. A secret to keep from Victor that he could never know about. The one thing he couldn’t take from me, because I filed every single special moment away in the deepest recesses of my mind and far away from Victor and his horrors Every kind word or action that came from Jeremiah was kept just for me, and when the pain and loneliness would get to be too much, I’d pull those sacred moments from my hidden box and relive them to escape from my reality.

So many times, when Victor would leave me for days in the cage while he was off, probably torturing puppies or small children like the veritable monster he was, the deafening silencewould get to me. The hunger pains. The humiliation of using a bucket to relieve myself because he always locked the cage door.

Reminder after reminder that I was nothing more than some kind of… toy or trinket to him. One to be tarnished and broken repeatedly until he could mold me into being exactly what he wanted me to be.

Meek.

Quiet.

Subservient.

Afraid.

In the beginning, it felt like I’d go insane.

Until him.

Jeremiah would sneak in and keep me company when he noticed what Victor was doing. He’d give me food and water, a blanket to cover myself with. Show me kindness.

For the first several weeks of me seeing him, he was the sole contributor to any conversation, but he never let that stop him from coming back.

The first time I saw him, his presence scared me almost as much as Victor’s. His scent was harsh, and his sheer size was intimidating. It didn’t help that he was there to do business with my captor. But slowly, he broke through the walls I’d been building around myself for months.

He’d regale me with stories of a scrawny street kid just trying to survive, being honest with me about who he was, the things he’d done. He’d feed me pieces of information about the city I’d been in for over a year, but had never gotten to see. Anything he could think of or that I’d ask about, he’d tell me.

I miss him.

I shouldn’t.

But I do.