still valuable so long as they

could prove their worth. And I would, starting with Darren. I had to give him my all

—no matter how much I hated him, no matter how much it terrified me if the

result was anything less than absolute death. I had to end this, and in order to do

that, I had to end myself. I had to leave the dead Jaden behind and take flight with a

new identity—someone tougher, faster, and smarter. A stronger stomach wouldn’t

be too bad either.

Eventually, Darren released me and tipped my chin up with his thumb and

forefinger, forcing me to look at him. Blue, so much blue, I thought I was

swimming in it. Those eyes were something else, something dangerous yet so

fucking mesmerizing. One look from him could melt me to the floor or freeze me in

place. And I had given him that power. I needed to take it back.

And then he leaned down and kissed me. It was soft, gentle, nothing invasive or

possessive. Just sweet simplicity. When he released my lips, he gave me a small

smile.

“Have a good day with Holly,” he said. “I’ll see you at dinner.” And then he left

me standing at the door with Hank and Blondie.

“Morning,” I said to them as Hank opened the door. For some reason, I felt like

being nice.

“Good morning, Miss Jaden,” Hank said to me. Blondie just nodded his head

slightly.

“There you are!” shouted Holly in excitement as she jumped up from the

reading nook.

“Hey,” I said with a cautious smile as she came over to me. The second my eyes

landed on the giant red and purple bruise and butterfly bandage covering the bridge

of her nose, I felt like the biggest jackass. “Shit, Holly, I’m so sorry,” I said

regrettably.

“Oh, it’s okay,” she said, waving me off with a smile. “I’m a fast healer. It’ll be

back to normal in no time.”

I nodded. “Well, I’m grateful for your optimism.”

“Right. Well, come on. We have a busy day ahead of us,” she said brightly.

Oh, the joy…

13

ROUTINE

F or the next week, I spent nearly every waking moment with Holly, except for the

occasional mealtime with Darren whenever he had the chance. With Holly’s

happy-go-lucky attitude, it was hard for me not to punch her in the face again, but

I was still grateful for her company. I had to give it to hershe was fantastic at

physical therapy. In a week, I had better strength and mobility in my jaw and wrist,

and I needed less pain medication for my ribs by the day. I worked my ass off to get

there, but Holly really gave me the push I needed.

When we weren’t working on my physical therapy, Holly tried to keep me

preoccupied with just about everything she could think of. We painted every day

after lunch, and though it was mundane and pointless, I did it anyway to make her

and Darren happy. I continued to finger paint, preferring to work with my hands

instead of the brush. Holly made sure to order paint that was more suitable for my

style of painting. The colors of my painting would change from time to time, but

they were usually always dark—purples, reds, blues, and a lot of black. Sometimes,

I thought I was painting a night sky, but I knew I was only painting the darkness in

my head, still trying to find the colors within.

At one point, Holly tried to get me to paint something elsemy nails. Ginsby

had removed the acrylics a long time ago since no one could maintain them on the

island. My nails had remained bare and, to be honest, a little dull. I didn’t mind

having polish on my nails; I just didn’t prefer the extra fake shit.

After lunch, Holly and I sat on the couch in the entertainment room where she

put on some lame ass romantic comedy while Hank and Blondie got to stand at the

door. Lucky bastards. She then pulled out a huge basket of nail polish and tools. My

eyebrows actually shot up. There must have been a hundred colors.

“I thought we could paint our nails and watch a movie while they dry,” she

practically beamed.

I shrugged. “Sure, why not?” Not like I had anything better to do.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had painted my nails, but apparently, I still

had some skill. I managed not to get a single drop of the light pink polish on my

skin and even successfully created the perfect striped accent nail on my ring fingers

with some silver nail tape. I was a little impressed with myself. Holly, on the other

hand, was skilled in getting more polish on her skin than her actual nails.

I shook my head at her as she painted on her third

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