Avenger(61)

His lips brushed against the top of my head before he pulled away and hopped lithely out of the bed. “Your parents are here, waiting to see you, and I really need to talk to Bentley. Are you okay to see them?”

I smoothed my fingers through my hair. “How scary do I look?” I didn’t really care about my appearance, but after everything that happened I’d really like my parents to know I was okay and not look at me like I’d nearly died…which is what had happened. I didn’t want either of them fussing over me. All I wanted was to put this behind me and find my son. I knew the elders and Travis were important too, but my baby was number one. I wrapped my arms around me, trying to hold myself together. I felt like my heart had been ripped from my body.

“Oh, Sophie,” he rolled his eyes. “They don’t care what you look like.”

I nodded. “I want to see them.”

“Stay in bed,” he warned, pointing at me with a steady finger.

It was my turn to roll my eyes. “Trust me, I’m not moving for a week.” Those words were truer than I wanted them to be. I wanted to be out there, hunting down Travis and the elders so I could get my son back, but I was too weak for that. Right now, I had to focus on rebuilding my strength. I knew Caeden would want to go after Travis soon, and I’d need to be on the top of my game, or he’d leave me behind. He’d have to restrain me to keep me from going, but I wouldn’t put anything past Caeden if he thought it would keep me safe.

The door to the bedroom opened again and my mom poked her head inside. Her eyes filled with tears when she caught sight of me. “Oh, Sophie.” She dove at me, but stopped herself from reaching out to hug me, for fear she might hurt me.

“I’m okay, mom. You can hug me,” I assured her.

“Oh, thank God.” She pulled me into her arms and held me tight. It was the kind of hug I’d received as a child when I’d fallen off my bike and hurt myself. It was the hug of a mother trying to repair all the broken pieces of her child. But some things can never be fixed, and I thought I might be one of those forever broken things. I’d been through a lot—which was quite the understatement—and I’d always been able to come out stronger because of it. But now, I hadn’t just lost a piece of me. I’d lost a part of me. Beau. A hug couldn’t fix the pain I was experiencing, no matter how much I might wish it would.

My mom’s cries filled the room and her tears soaked the sweatshirt I was wearing.

“Mom, I’m okay. Honestly,” I added. My voice was oddly flat and emotionless. I didn’t like the sound of it. I was already going through the motions—saying things I knew they wanted to hear.

“You’re not okay, baby girl,” my dad spoke up from behind my mom. “Don’t lie to us. We know you better than anyone.”

I swallowed thickly at his words.

“It’s okay to admit that not everything is fine, Sophie. We can help you. We can make it better,” he continued.

“Nothing can make this better,” my voice cracked. “Beau is gone and I might not ever see him.”

“Baby girl, right now, you need to be optimistic.” He stepped forward and lifted my hand off my mom’s back—since she was still hugging me—and held it tightly in his. “You’re Beau’s momma and you need to believe that you’re going to hold that child in your arms. He needs you to believe, baby girl.”

“But it’s so hard.” I fought tears once more. You’d think my tear ducts would’ve dried up by now.

“I know it’s hard, but that’s life. Without the difficult things, we can’t learn to appreciate the good things. We have to find the light in the darkness.”

“I don’t see any light.” I bit my lip sharply, drawing blood, but I welcomed the short burst of pain and the slightly rusty tang of the blood on my tongue.

“There’s light, baby girl, but you have to look closely. It might not be obvious at first, but there’s always that glimmer of hope. Find it and cling to it, so it can keep you strong.”

I soaked in his words, repeating them over and over again in my mind. I needed to find some hope to cling to, but I felt so defeated that hope seemed out of my reach.

My mom pulled back and took my face between her hands. She stared at me with a frown on her face. I wondered what she saw. I had yet to get a look at myself, but I was sure I was scary looking. My hair felt like it was sticking up around my head like Medusa’s snake hair.

“You’re going to be okay, Sophie,” she said.

I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to tell her to shut up. I didn’t want to be told that I’d be okay anymore. I knew I would—one day—but that didn’t make it easier to hear. Right now, I wanted to wallow in my misery. I knew that wasn’t the healthy thing to do, but I didn’t care. I’d been stuck with Travis for months, I’d had my baby taken from me, and I’d nearly died. I think it was perfectly normal for me to want to feel unhappy.