Chapter 558 FALLEN FROM GRACE (BONUS - 5)

CELESTE’S POV

Ever since Sera and Kieran defeated Catherine, I’d been plagued by dreams.

I was pretty sure they were suppressed memories, but the Celeste in those dreams was so different from the Celeste I knew that it was easier to pretend they were figments of an overactive imagination than a version of myself my godmother had stolen.

One dream, in particular, always wrecked me so thoroughly that I woke up with tears in my eyes and a weight pressing down on my chest.

It started with me in a closet. I never knew what had scared me, but I knew that four-year-old Celeste was terrified.

I was clutching a stuffed animal—some days a giraffe, others an elephant, one time a wolf eerily similar to Daniel’s.

Then the door opened, letting in a sliver of light for a split second before my sister slipped in.

“There you are,” she whispered. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

I sniffed. “It’s scary out there.”

She crawled toward me and gently, effortlessly, slipped in behind me, wrapping her arms around me so I was cradled in her embrace.

She tucked her chin between my neck and shoulder, and I snuggled into her, letting go of the stuffed animal so I could grip her arms.

“Is it less scary with me here?” she asked.

I nodded, closing my eyes. “It’s always less scary when you’re here.”

I always clung to that dream for as long as I could, desperate to stay asleep. I wanted to live in that imaginary closet forever, safe in my big sister’s arms.

But I always woke up—to an empty bed, empty apartment, empty life.

And it’s scary out here.

***

I was pissed.

I was pissed while I laundered my clothes, watching the one basement washing machine like a hawk because I knew if I left, they’d disappear.

I was pissed as I scrubbed mud out of my one good pair of sneakers till my fingers pruned.

I was pissed as I applied concealer to my neck to hide the bruise.

I was pissed when the Ninth Circle started playing catch with their burgers, leaving a disgusting mess for yours truly to clean up.

I was pissed when my shift was over, and I had to take the same fucking path where I’d been assaulted the night before.

Pissed and terrified.

So much so that I almost took Joe up on his age-old offer to walk me home, but I’d die before I ended up in an alley alone with another man ever again.

I was a lot less pissed and a lot more terrified as I made the walk, clutching my bag by the straps so that, if I needed to, I could swing it like the world’s most pathetic weapon.

I refused to be caught off guard again; my eyes darted up, down, right, left, behind, ahead. I would see danger coming—and run in the other fucking direction.

But when it was time to cross the street before the alley, I couldn’t move my feet.

Fear of the dark is nothing special—it’s practically a childhood requirement. But it’s not really the dark that instills dread; it’s the unknown.

The mind invents horrors to fill the void, but when the lights flick on, it’s only a harmless pile of clothes.

But I knew what the darkness ahead held—what it smelled like, how it sounded, how it felt pressed against me.

I took a hesitant step back—and instantly stumbled forward when someone smacked into me.

“Oh, shit!”

I spun, my eyes wide, my heart instantly kicking into high gear.

The tall blonde who rushed into me reached out and grabbed my hand, giving me an apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

I blinked at her, buffering.

Fear had rushed in, but now it screeched to a stop as I registered the high ponytail, neon pink cat-ear headphones, and yoga pants.

Her hazel eyes widened. “Shit, I didn’t hurt you, did I? My brother says I don’t know my own strength, and I know I shouldn’t have been going so fast, but I like to get my cardio in on the way so I can focus on strength training when I actually get to the gym. Two birds with one stone, right? Are you heading in too? Maybe I can buy you a protein shake as an apology, or are you a wheatgrass smoothie kind of girl?”

She’d said all of that in one breath, and I felt the need to tell her that her method was working because she had excellent breath control, but all I could manage was a stuttered, “What?”

She pointed behind me. “You’re not headed to Eden?”

I turned in the direction she pointed, and understanding dawned. She was referring to the gym across the street—the one I hated looking at because of the gigantic reflective window.

“Oh, no, I—”

“I know, I know, it’s weird to work out at one am, but it’s always so peaceful at this time, and I’m a night owl, so it’s perfect, and by the time I’m done with my workout, I can watch the sun rise.”

“You work out for five hours—” My horror was cut off when the rest of her sentence registered.

Sunrise.

I turned back around, my gaze on the dark alley.

Sunrise.

Light.

I turned back to the blonde. “Yeah. I’m going into Eden.”

She bounced on her heels, her ponytail swinging with the movement. “Excellent!”

She wound her arm around mine like we were old boarding school friends.

My brain instantly commanded my arm to yank itself out of her grip, but I stamped out that instinct before it could happen.

She was a bit too preppy for my taste, but she wasn’t a threat lurking in the dark. She smelled of bubblegum and led me into the cool haven of the gym, where I could let my fear thaw.

I knew it wasn’t logical, definitely not sustainable, dodging the one road home, especially with my 12-12 shift. But that was tomorrow’s problem.

I did a double-take when we walked into the gym. For an establishment in this neighborhood, it was shockingly opulent.

The glass doors opened into a wide reception area, the polished floor gleaming beneath rows of recessed lights.

A long charcoal counter stretched across one wall, a computer monitor and card reader sitting neatly on its surface. The gym’s name was mounted in brushed metal behind it, illuminated by a soft strip of light.

A glass door separated the open entrance from the main floor, and I could see rows of machines and racks of different weights.

It looked like a gym that Celeste Lockwood would work out in—if she’d ever given a shit about physical fitness.

“Hi, Nadia!” The blonde waved at the receptionist, who returned an equally cheery greeting.

“Hey, Eve! Love the new fit.” Her gaze shifted to me. “Who’s your friend?”

“Oh, this is...” Eve turned to me expectantly, and it took me the usual two seconds to remember which name to say.

“Madison.”

“Madison!” Eve echoed, turning back to the receptionist.

“Nadia, be a doll and get her a...” She turned to me again. “What would you like?”

“Um, coffee, if you have it.” I intended to wait out the sunrise after all.

Nadia nodded. “How do you take it?”

The old Celeste would have rattled off a complicated order with some ridiculous milk alternative, but Madison wouldn’t dare be a bother.

“However’s easiest.”

“Right away.”

She stepped out from behind her desk and disappeared through a side door.

Eve slipped her hand out of mine and turned toward the doors separating the gym from the reception. She pressed her thumb on the biometric scanner, and it slid open with a soft hiss.

This time, when she tugged me along, I resisted.

“That’s okay,” I said, gesturing to the plush armchairs in the waiting area. “I’ll just wait out here.”

Her lips formed a pout. “Oh, are you sure? You don’t have to worry about being a member if you want to work out, and I know I said I like the quiet, but I don’t mind the company.”

I shook my head. “That’s okay.”

I started to turn away, but then something caught my gaze. By the door was a brochure rack, and on the first one, yelling at me in big, bold letters were the words: SELF-DEFENSE CLASSES

I didn’t even realize I’d reached for it until the words were closer to my face, and suddenly I was drinking in all the information.

My attention snagged on the tagline: Learn to protect yourself with practical self-defense training for real-world situations.

Real-world situations—like being attacked in dark alleys.

“That’s a good idea. You should sign up.”

The deep, velvety voice sent a shiver down my spine. When I spun and my gaze landed on its owner, the brochure slipped out of my hand.

Those damn dimples winked into existence. “We’ve clarified that your knees are lethal weapons, so imagine the damage the rest of your body can do.”