Chapter 11 Cedar and Ghosts
Everything felt blurry at first. Like dust inside a shaken glass jar, suspended in the air with no shape. Then the door appeared.
That door. The old wooden one with peeling red paint. The handle bent slightly, a result of a fight no one ever fixed. I knew what was waiting behind it. But my body still moved.
I opened it and stepped straight into the suffocating gray room. Faded walls. A space that stank of stale cigarettes and cologne that tried too hard.
He was sitting at the edge of the bed.
Darius.
Younger. But his eyes were already too dark for our age back then. His left hand clutched a half-empty bottle of vodka. His right held my phone.
And the look on his face... God. I hadn’t seen that expression in years, but my brain still remembered it. Cold. Suspicious. Empty.
"Who is he?" His voice was quiet, but danger lived in it. Like embers under ash. I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t. My breath caught in my throat.
He stood. Slowly. Too slowly. Each step toward me made the room feel smaller. My hands lifted, instinctively defensive.
"He’s just an old friend, Darius. I told you already."
"Then why’s he texting you at two in the morning?" His head tilted, like a predator deciding where to bite.
"It wasn’t—"
The slap landed like lightning.
Not hard enough to bruise. But sharp enough to slice through what little pride I had left. My eyes burned. Not from the sting, but from the rage swelling in my chest.
I staggered back, gasping.
He grabbed my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “You’re mine, Aubrey. You know that, right?"
My head nodded. Automatic. Reflex from too many fights.
"If you ever leave me…" he looked at me like it wasn’t a threat, just a fact he repeated until I’d believe it, "I’ll ruin you. You understand?"
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. But I caught my reflection in the mirror behind him.
Gone. That version of me had been dead a long time.
When he disappeared into the bathroom, I stood there frozen. My hand went to my jaw, checking if I still existed.
That was the moment I knew.
I had to go.
If I stayed… I wouldn’t survive.
The scene shifted.
The mirror faded. The walls crumbled like wet cardboard. And there I was again, standing in a narrow bus station hallway, a small suitcase in hand, cheap hoodie, no makeup. My body looked thin. My eyes blank.
I heard his voice behind me. Screaming. Distant.
"Don’t leave me, Aubrey!"
My steps quickened. His voice grew fainter. But my chest tightened. Not from love. From fear. Because that’s what he planted in me.
When I finally climbed onto the bus, the only real thing I’d ever done just for myself, I remembered how it felt. Like stealing my life back. But also… like losing something I once thought was love.
Then another voice crept in. Soft. Echoing from somewhere else.
"Mommy... Mommy, wake up..."
Faint. But it didn’t come from the bus. Not from the past.
The voice shifted, slowed, like a cassette warping into a deeper tone. Familiar. Anchored. Solid like midnight that never told secrets.
"Bee."
My eyelids twitched. My lungs spasmed. I sucked in air like someone dragged me out of the ocean. Cold night air punched into my chest. My skin chilled, even under the blanket.
"Bee. Hey…"
One second.
Two.
Then my vision cleared.
Zade’s face hovered above mine. His hair was tousled. His eyes tight. One hand braced himself while the other pushed hair from my face. He didn’t sound panicked—Zade never panicked—but something in his gaze sent my pulse into a spiral.
"I… I…" I couldn’t string words together. They crashed in my throat. Cold sweat slid down my temple, across my neck. My hands were shaking.
And before I even realized it, my arms were wrapped around his neck.
Fast. Desperate. I just needed something to hold onto before I slipped back into that black hole. My arms locked around him, tight, like I was afraid he might vanish if I let go.
His scent hit me faster than reason—masculine cologne, soap, and... cedar. Somehow, always cedar.
"Bee…" Zade whispered again. Softer this time.
I buried my face into his neck. Pressed my nose to his warm skin. Alive. Real. Solid.
My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to escape.
He didn’t ask. Didn’t push. Just held me. Still. Steady. His body was a fortress, unchanging, unmoving. One hand stroked my back. Then up to my hair. His fingers brushed the nape of my neck, drawing slow, calming circles into my skin.
I swallowed, tried to speak. But my tongue was heavy. My lips couldn’t bother.
"Nightmare?" he finally asked, voice low, gentle. But like everything Zade did, it carried weight. Even his whispers demanded to be heard.
I nodded, face still hidden in his neck. "Old trash resurfacing."
"You’re here. With me."
God, that alone made my eyes burn again. "I hate that he can still crawl into my dreams. He doesn't deserve to exist in the same sentence as... you."
Zade didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Silence with him always meant more than words. But his arms tightened around me.
I groaned, half annoyed. "Can we skip the trauma part and just go straight to the 2 a.m. pizza?"
He chuckled, dry but warm. "You want pizza?"
"If it’s between nightmares and pepperoni... seriously, give me a harder choice."
He pulled back just enough to see my face. Our eyes met. And damn, this man... he didn’t need a crown. The way he looked at me always made me feel like I was royalty.
"I can order pizza. Or…" His thumb brushed my cheek. "We sleep. And I make sure nothing from your past dares to show its face again."
And the worst part?
I believed him.
With everything I had.
My fingers touched his jaw. Ran over the stubble that shouldn’t look that good at this hour. "You do know you’re too handsome for this time of night, right?"
"And you’re way too sexy to be sleep-talking in my shirt."
I rolled my eyes, but my grin cracked through anyway. "That wasn’t sleep-talking. That was trauma survival art."
He tilted his head, and damn it—there it was. That crooked smile. "Next time, wake me up. Don’t go through it alone."
It didn’t sound like an order. It sounded like a promise. That I didn’t have to fight alone anymore. That no matter how dark the night got... someone would always be standing guard.
I took a deep breath. "Okay."
"Promise?"
"Promise." I kissed his temple softly. "But you’re still ordering pizza, just in case."
He laughed. And when he pulled me back into his arms, one arm curled around me like a blanket, his fingers moving slowly down my spine... I felt whole.
For the first time in a long time, I fell asleep feeling safe.
And... Darius didn’t come back.