The Sound of Salvation (Deliverance Book 1)

by I. A. Dice

  “Which one? The princess?”

  “No. The one who wore a green dress same as yours.”

  “The witch?!” My arms flew to my sides. “I look like a witch?”

  “You’re the most beautiful witch I have ever seen, puppet.”

  I adored that pet name because it mattered. It reminded me of that evening and the fact that Adrian wanted me to smile. For a long time, he did everything in his power to pick up my pieces whenever I fell apart.

  And then he was the one who made me fall apart.

  I moved over to the kitchen and took an ice cube out of the freezer. I hoisted myself onto the breakfast bar, and just sat there, imagining a brick wall and hoping the grounding techniques actually worked. The ice-cube melted in my hand; water dripped to the floor.

  It worked to some extent, clearing my head enough that I remembered to stay occupied. A three-door wardrobe was delivered last night, along with a bed frame. A cup of green tea in one hand, and a screwdriver Thomas left behind in the other, I marched upstairs, determined to do as the doctor told me—stay occupied and unpack my clothes before the day ends.

  One hour later, all parts were out of the boxes. Using Thomas’s technique, I lined them in the order I would be needing them. Too bad I lacked ten inches in height to get things done. A chair was no help.

  Surrounded by wardrobe parts, cardboard boxes, and foil packets of small screws, I sat on the floor, thinking of a way around the problem. The easiest thing would be to call Nick, or better yet—Thomas for help, but they were at work. Asking Thomas had a few more perks than just helping hands. His presence was a good substitute for diazepam, but I wasn’t struggling enough to rid my inhibitions yet.

  Then a brilliant idea popped into my head, and I got to work, putting the wardrobe together horizontally. It worked great and only took me three hours.

  The last step—standing the wardrobe and pushing it against the wall didn’t go according to plan. It was heavier than I expected, and I struggled to lift it far enough to make it land on its legs. Thirty seconds of back and forth, and the wardrobe won. The doors fell out, but the frame stayed in one piece, and collapsed on top of me.

  “Ouch.”

  By that time, Nick and Thomas finished work. Massaging a sore spot on my back I dialled the number.

  “Hey sis, what can I do for you?”

  “You can give me Thomas’s number.”

  Nick cleared his throat, and the tone of his voice changed from cheerful to reserved. “What do you want his number for?”

  “Sex, what else?” I snapped, sarcasm covering every word.

  A low chuckle that wasn’t Nick’s sounded in the background.

  “Let me guess,” I said, my cheeks burning. “You’re still at the office and Thomas is there with you.”

  “And he can hear you.” Nick clipped.

  “Good. Hey, Thomas. My wardrobe was delivered last night. I assembled it, but it’s too heavy and I can’t stand it on its legs. Could you please, please, please come and help me?”

  “You had me at sex, Nadia,” Thomas said. “I’m on my way.”

  Nick growled, huffing and puffing into the receiver. “Not funny.”

  “Your paranoia isn’t either. And Thomas? Bring tools. The doors snapped off, and you might need to drill new holes for the hinges. I’m not touching that thing again. It gave me a concussion.” I ended the call, not in a mood for a lecture from my brother about manual handling.

  Thomas arrived half an hour later. He walked in as if he owned the place, not bothering to knock or even shout “Hello” from the door.

  I expected to see him in full suit. Instead, he wore jeans and a white t-shirt—far less intimidating than a three-piece designer suit and much sexier.

  “I see you changed your mind.” He motioned to the painting behind the sofa.

  “Face your demons.”

  “It’s a matter of perspective. What do you see when you look at it?”

  “A girl who gave up. A broken, scarred mess.”

  Thomas shook his head, taking a seat. “I don’t see you giving up, baby doll.” He turned to the painting. “You know what I see? I see how strong you are to fight despite everything that’s tormenting you.”

  I considered his words, my heart swelling. How did he know what to say and do to turn my world upside down? Until that moment, I saw myself as a victim, but the truth was that I was a survivor.

  Many would consider me weak for staying with Adrian, but it took courage to fight for him the way I did despite the nightmare he put us through.

  “Thank you.” I smiled. “I didn’t think of it that way.”

  He placed his palm on my thigh, digging his fingers into my flesh. Calmness washed over me, and anxiety faded into the background.

  “Change the negative into a positive. You’re not a mess. You’re lost. You try to deal with your issues alone but keeping secrets doesn’t take the weight off your shoulders. It adds.” He stood and walked out to the hallway. “I hate to say this, but we have to get a move on. I need to be at your brother’s house in an hour for a game of poker.”

  I followed him, but before ascending the stairs, Thomas snatched my phone from the kitchen island.

  “Next time call me first. You don’t have to be self-sufficient.” He tapped on the screen, saving his number in my phone. “I’m under A.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “A for arrogant?”

  “A for all you need.”

  “I don’t need you.”

  He smiled, ignoring my harsh tone. “Agree to disagree.”

  CHAPTER 13

  THOMAS

  Cross that bridge

  Amelia and Nick argued when I arrived at Nadia’s on Saturday for the housewarming party.

  “What’s that about?” I asked, when she greeted me in the corridor.

  Dark circles surrounded her eyes, and make-up didn’t hide them well. She was pale, her skin almost ashen, with vulnerability in her brown eyes and a sleep-deprived look.

  “Bachelor party. Mel found out you’re planning a night in Amsterdam. She’s not happy.”

  I caught her hand when she turned around to join the party in the living room.

  “Are you okay?”

  She held my gaze for a moment, squeezing my hand tighter, and shook her head. “Bad dreams.”

  The urge to hide her in my arms came out of nowhere. It must have been the first time I wanted to hug a girl other than Maya or my mother. Nadia took a step back before I could try to comfort her, turned on her heel, and entered the living room. I hung my jacket on the old-fashioned coat hanger by the door. Jerk’s jacket was there too, and my jaw tightened.

  “There, make good use of it.” I gave Nadia a large, heavy box that contained a housewarming gift.

  She wrinkled her nose, and shook the box hard, amusement on her lips. “You bought me tools? Does that mean you no longer want to be the first point of contact when I need a screwdriver?”

  I shook hands with the guys, and leaned to the girls, letting them kiss my cheek.

  “No, if you need tools you call me. Stop guessing and open it.”

  The gift I picked wasn’t random. No, I thought long and hard about it and bought her something meaningful, something that proved I paid attention to her from the start—a set of art supplies.

  I never realised how much shit was needed to paint. The art shop was half the size of a standard Ikea. Ceiling-high shelves were stacked with endless art supplies. It was too much for me to comprehend.

  For twenty minutes I gawked at a shelf filled with red paints. They all looked identical to me, but since there were different names like burgundy, crimson or flame, they all had to differ in shade somehow.

  How many reds are there, exactly? Isn’t red like one fucking colour?

  Apparently not. There were about fifty shades of red in the store. I couldn’t name fifty colours, and they stocked fifty shades of one.

  There were even more greens than reds, not to mention
the blues. And who the hell came up with these idiotic names, anyway? Parrot green? Midnight blue?

  What the fuck? Midnight is black, end of story.

  After half an hour of getting paranoid, I called my mother for help. I should have done it sooner. It would have saved me a lot of time.

  Nadia took unnecessary care unwrapping the orange paper before she placed the box on the floor. A smile that reached her eyes was all I hoped for, and she gave it to me when she peeked inside and took out acrylic paints, brushes, a few stretched canvases in different sizes, and an easel that required assembling.

  Still smiling, she wrapped her arms around my neck, pecking my cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. There’s one more canvas in my car, but I’ll only give it to you if you promise to paint something for me. Choose what you like, but I want her,” I pointed to the girl in the painting on the wall, “to be in it.”

  Nadia nodded, then left for the kitchen. I grabbed the easel, and took a seat by the table, ready for more DIY.

  Amelia zeroed in on me, her lips a thin line. “Strippers, booze and weed in the sin city of Europe! Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to take my husband there for the night?”

  At least she waited until I sat down before the hissing commenced.

  “All the things you said.”

  I wanted to organise a stag-do for years. Adam wasn’t engaged to Claudia when I had his send-off planned in detail. For Nick, I planned something even better when he asked me to be his best man.

  The initial plan was to keep the location a secret, but Nick got on my nerves with the nosy questions. I caved in and told him a few days back. He was far too excited to let Mel boss him around.

  He had a strategy of confronting her—an answer to every possible question at the ready to please and convince her that it was a good idea. What he overlooked was that honesty would come back to bite his ass.

  Amelia wasn’t the kind to let him off easy. She looked at Nadia, who placed a glass of vodka on the rocks in front of me and took a seat on my left.

  “Whatever the plan—bin it. We’re going to Barcelona.”

  I smirked, impressed, and secured the easel with a couple of screws.

  “No way in hell!” Nick yelled but it was too late.

  Amelia watched him with that in-your-face kind of smile and the only way she would let it go would be if Nick decided to ditch the Amsterdam idea. We all knew it wouldn’t happen.

  “Why don’t you work this out in bed?” I said, when Nick opened his mouth to protest.

  He downed his drink and changed the topic. “I almost forgot. We’re throwing a party the Friday before the stag do. Aaron’s album had gone platinum within a week. You’re all invited.”

  “Aaron Young?” Nadia asked, and her eyebrows shot up when Nick nodded. “You signed the guy, and I just find out? He’s amazing.”

  “And so handsome,” Jane said, a dreamy look on her face.

  The party kicked off with a sexual version of Truth or Dare. It became my favourite party game within five minutes. First, Scorpio humiliated himself by performing a striptease. Then Amelia confessed she always wanted to kiss a girl and every guys’ fantasy came true when Jane kissed her. Yep, that game was definitely my favourite.

  I took a pink card from the pile for Nadia. “Truth or dare?”

  “How many vetoes do we get this time?” she asked Amelia.

  “One as always. Why?”

  “No reason. Truth, please.”

  I glanced at the card. “Favourite place to be kissed?”

  She ghosted her fingers across my neck, starting below the ear, and traveling south until she reached my collarbone.

  “Here.”

  I’ll remember that.

  She reached for a blue card, and I answered before she asked.

  “A truth, baby doll.”

  Everyone stared at me instead of Nadia. It took me two seconds to realise the “baby doll” wasn’t inaudible.

  Oops. My bad.

  Nick’s face turned red. “Baby doll?”

  “Petite, delicate, pretty.” I played dumb, ignoring his agitation.

  He had to get used to it. I was nowhere near done pursuing his little sister. The long-term plan was simple—make her mine. Planting the seeds in Nick’s mind had to start right away. He needed a lot of time to wrap his head around the idea of me and Nadia together.

  He gritted his teeth, eyes drilling a hole in my face. “Yes, she is, but she’s not one of your groupies.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know.”

  See? Baby-steps.

  “How many women have you slept with?” Nadia read the question jumping at the opportunity to stop our conversation from escalating.

  Nick burst out laughing and Ethan followed.

  “As if he remembers.”

  “One,” I said, and they fell silent. “I slept with one. I fucked a lot.”

  The moment my glass was empty, Nadia got to her feet to get me a refill. Ethan watched her every move like a psycho rapist and, I opened my mouth to tell him off. Scorpio kicked me under the table to stop me, then shot me a message.

  Keep your shit together!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  Any less exclamation marks and I would have thought he was joking.

  “That’s nasty!” The Jerk howled, eyeing Nadia who struggled to reach a bottle of vodka from the top shelf in the living room. “How did you do that?”

  No cutie? Finally.

  We turned to see what got him alarmed. A bruise the size of both of my palms and the colour of plums on Nadia’s lower back flipped my stomach.

  “What? The bruise? It’s nothing.” She pulled her blouse down. “A wardrobe fell on me on Thursday.”

  “The three-door, heavy as all hell wardrobe in your bedroom?” I asked, taking the bottle down. “It’s a miracle your bones are intact.”

  We played for an hour before the first veto was casted. Nick picked out a card for me, covering for Nadia. He tossed it back on the table, nostrils flared, and jaw clenched.

  Having used truth in the previous round, it was time for a dare, and whatever the card said must have involved Nadia, or Nick wouldn’t have been so pissed off. The card landed in front of Scorpio who leaned over to see what the fuss was all about. Good thing Nick didn’t see the smirk on his face or the wink he sent my way.

  “Kiss all single girls in the room.” Nick fisted his palms. “I would rather you didn’t.”

  Scorpio patted his back. “It’s just a game, chill out, mate.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, hearing Nadia approach, my system buzzing in anticipation. I was going to win this girl over one kiss at a time. She remained torn between wants and needs—wanting to heal on her own and needing my help. Despite what she said, I hoped needs would win, even if it meant she would be using me. I would volunteer to be her rebound any day. Being close to her gave me a chance to turn our relationship into something more.

  She sat down beside me. “Veto.”

  The word hit me like a low blow.

  No explanation, not even a glance my way. She was so fucking confusing she made my head spin.

  Music played from the speaker, a background noise to the game. Two more rounds, and we watched Ethan try his worst pick-up line on Jane and heard all about Mel’s worst sex.

  My arm rested across the back of Nadia’s chair the whole time, and I ghosted my fingers over the nape of her neck, watching goose bumps appear. God, I loved how she reacted to me. The faintest touch was enough to make her squirm.

  She turned to me; her vulnerability not as visible in her dark eyes. She was calm because I was close, and pride inflated my chest.

  “Break time?” she asked as if reading my mind.

  We walked out to the balcony, Nick’s gaze seeing us out. He was right not to trust me, but I was a bit hurt and pissed off that he considered me the worst fit for his sister.

  “So, a kiss is too much?” I rested against the wall. “It�
�s just a game. You made it clear we’re not happening again, and as much as I hate it, I respect your decision.”

  “Just a game,” Nadia muttered, shaking her head. “Just a kiss, right? For you, maybe, but not for me. I wish you would stop pushing, Thomas. We’re not cut from the same cloth no matter what you say.”

  She took a step closer but seemed oblivious that her whole body drifted toward me. She fought a lost battle.

  “I’m trying not to push, but I don’t get why you fight it so hard.”

  “Because I refuse to be a selfish bitch, okay? I won’t use you.” A shadow crossed her face, and she shook her head, dismissing the last two sentences. “I’m afraid I won’t have it in me to let you go when the time comes,” she uttered, staring into the distance.

  I placed a finger under her chin, careful not to make any sudden moves and scare her off. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it, baby.”

  “If?” she mouthed. “What do you mean if?”

  Her doe-like eyes darted to my lips. Fuck this girl. She was going to break me ten different ways.

  “You assume I’ll be the one to want out first. You’re afraid I’ll move on before you recover. What if you’re the one to leave first? Stop overthinking the future and focus on the present.”

  Two lines marked her forehead, and God, I hoped I struck the right chord. All she had to do was take the first step, and the rest would fall in place with time.

  Ethan barged outside, a smile taking half of his face slipped when he saw us close. “What’s taking you so long? C’mon, cutie, I have a dare you’re a part of.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Nadia stepped away from me, inhaling a cloud of smoke. “And now, I regret using my veto on you,” she added, when Ethan closed the door.

  So did I. Whatever the dare, it involved touching. Most likely kissing. So far, all dares were intimate, and it was safe to assume Ethan’s wasn’t any different. No way in hell could I sit back and watch the Jerk get anywhere near her. All the possible scenarios played in my head, and not one ended with Ethan’s face intact.

  “You can use my veto. And you better do. For his sake.”

  “You have no right to act possessive.” She turned to leave.