Their Thief: Redemption

Chapter 7 (Part 2)

Confusion twisted his face. He squinted his eyes at me. "What?"

I shook my head, taking a step back when he approached. He was here. And it didn't look like he had come to rescue me. Not in the slightest. No, instead it looked like he was helping my captors stock their fridge- no. It didn't look like he was. He actually was. And not alone. No, he had his mom and mate who work for the same captors helping him.

His lips turned down in a frown. Raising his hands in a soothing gesture, he took another step forward, his demeanor changing. Gone were any signs of confusion. The worry remained, but it had turned hard from the gentle state he had approached me with earlier.

That was my first inkling that I may have been wrong and misread the scene- well, at the very least was missing further context. His forward words were the next.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow down!" he said, his voice firmer. "I can't read that mind of yours so I don't know what stupid pessimistic conclusion you've come to!"

Silence rang loud as his words registered.

My eyes narrowed on him. "Pessimistic? Try realist."

"Either way, do you think you can stay sane with that view in a word where the monsters under your bed exist?" Alec's voice had me jumping when it sounded from behind.

"Under her bed, or in it?" Max questioned under his breath as he shifted his attention with me to the approaching man.

"What other choice do I have?" It wasn't like the world was sunshine and rainbows even before I learned they existed.

My anger took a back burner as my eyes scanned him with a quick up and down. My brows rose in surprise at his clothing. He had changed. Rather than being dressed like he was prepared for a board meeting, he was dressed casually. His hair that typically didn't have a single strand out of place was touseled breaking him further away from the perfectly manicured image I was accustomed to. For some reason, the change in his clothing threw me off.

It was difficult to picture Alec owning jeans let alone wearing them, even if they were black. He must have raided Jace's closet. I would have thought Luca's, the simple white tee reminding me of his seemingly never-ending collection, but Jace had "kindly" informed me he didn't live here.

And that he had a fiancé.

The sharp stability I felt at the knowledge turned into a hollow ache that continued to crack open my chest the longer I dwelled on the grey-eyed man I had thought of far too often when waking up lying in bed with my arms spread. My fingers tightly curled around the edge of the mattress when they didn't find what they were searching for. It made me wonder how often I reached for him in my sleep before, unaware the next morning unless he was still there for me to awake tangled around.

I tried to force my attention back on Alec and away from the one that had given me too many moments of care and kindness to reflect on. It was easier to remind myself that I hated someone when I had vivid memories of pain and trauma being linked to them.

Because he had chosen a more passive role in my torment, just standing back and watching with waring eyes, it was easier to remember his small acts of care.

One of those acts was the reason why I hadn't been able to touch a brownie since the day he had gifted me two. He had gifted me more than just a sweet treat that day, he had gifted me an escape.

But was it really a gift?

No. It was the start of a new nightmare. The one that had resulted and led me to this moment.

If I had just stayed, eaten my brownies, and rested my arms while weeping in relief that they were free, I could have stayed blissfully unaware. They never would have gotten Simon. I never would have learned what he had become. What I had turned him into.