Page 57 of Stolen Rebel

Titan whines on the other side of the door.

“Who the fuck is in your flat, Erin?”

“It’s Willow.” I force irritation into my voice like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “I told you, I’m sick.” I let out a weak cough before dragging in a shaky breath. “She brought me a prescription from the chemist.”

There’s silence on the other end of the phone. Does he believe me?

I push a bit harder before he can get confrontational or berate me. “The flu turned into something worse, a chest infection, maybe pneumonia or something. I don’t know for sure yet.” I swallow, injecting just enough fear into my tone. “They’re sending me for a scan and have given me antibiotics in the meantime.”

Another knock hits the door behind me, and I don’t even flinch this time.

“Bullshit.”

Liam knocks again.

My eyes sting, and my head spins.

“Brian…” My voice cracks. “I can’t… not now. I’ll call you back.”

“No. You’ll answer me right now.”

I’ve never hung up on him. I hold my thumb over the button, willing myself to push it.

“You don’t hang up on me.” His voice is low and dangerous. “I’m standing outside your flat right now, Erin.” His quiet voice is worse than when he’s shouting. “The lights are off. There’s no movement inside, and I’ve got my hand on your door. So, tell me again how you’re inside.”

“Leave it, please. I’m sick. Just leave it at that.”

“Do you remember what I gave you?” Brian asks softly. The arrogance is back, but it’s a little tighter now.

My stomach drops, beads of sweat prickling on my forehead.

“Your life, your name, that quiet little existence you were so desperate for.” His voice sharpens. “That was a gift to you, Erin. From me. And it’s mine to take away.”

A beat that feels like a moment suspended in time passes. I never asked for a quiet little existence. I asked him to help me because of the murder. But the more time I’m here and away from his control, the more I’m questioning everything I thought I believed. Everything he led me to believe.

Liam knocks a third time. “Erin. Open the door.”

“I need to go.” Somehow, my voice is steady.

My thumb hovers over the screen. Five years of obedience. Five years of survival.

And for the first time, I choose something else.

“You don’t decide when this conversation ends⁠—”

I end the call.

The screen immediately lights up with Carol calling.

Again.

Again.

Fuck’s sake, just give up.

“Just a second.” I stand up, hide the phone, and check myself in the mirror. I look like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards.

Right as I reach for the handle, it starts to turn. The door swings open, and Liam’s unreadable face is waiting for me. His gaze flicks to the counter. The sink. The floor. Like he’s looking for the phone, like he already knows it exists. Is it my guilty conscience? Or was I not as quiet as I thought I was?