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She deserved a good spanking for trying to run from Wellington Manor. But I was short on time and patience. So I figured a few hours in isolation would sort her ass out. It would give her some time to think about what she had done. But as usual, Alex was full of surprises.
“Shit.” Keys jingled in Marcello’s hand as his breath grew heavier. “Are you looking at the feed in her bedroom?”
I glanced over at the video feed and gasped. Alex moved a chair across the balcony and stepped onto it.
“Marcello, get in there. Now!”
She climbed up onto the brick ledge, arms stretched out at her sides. The wind blew through her hair, strands smacking her in the face. Unfazed, she stood there as if she were invincible.
Did we fuck up already? Did one hour in the room make her want to kill herself?
No, she wouldn’t.
I watched as Marcello lifted Alex over the railing and carried her into the bedroom, kicking the patio doors closed behind him.
At least she was safe.
Fuck, that was close.
Relieved, I expelled a deep breath from my lungs. I called it years ago. This woman would be the death of me.
Of all four of us.
“I got her,” Marcello said into the phone as he set Alex on the bed.
She blinked in rapid succession, staring through Marcello like she wasn’t in her body. He waved his hand in front of her face, and she didn’t even acknowledge him. Lips pressed together, she sat with her palms on her thighs and stared at the wall.
What the fuck?
Stay with us, baby girl.
“What do you want me to do?” Marcello turned his back on her and walked toward the ensuite bathroom. “She’s out of it. Unresponsive.”
“Plan B.”
“Okay,” he groaned. “I’ll call you when she wakes up.”
I hung up and took a long sip of scotch. If anything happened to our girl, we were fucked.
The darkness found me again. It always did.Hello, old friend, it whispered in my ear.Welcome back.
Like most nights, I tossed and turned, forced to endure my own personal Hell. Images flashed before my eyes, colors swirled together, the room spinning around me. Hands slid down my arms, touching me in places my kidnappers had claimed for themselves.
I rolled onto my side, and the hands slipped away. The room spun on its axis. A gray mist swirled around my head, the room replaced by a new nightmare.
A new version of Hell.
My body ached from my feet pounding the cement. Every muscle cried out for me to stop, begging me to slow down. But I couldn’t. They were too close, right on my tail.
I ran through the crowded streets of Beacon Bay with a group of men chasing me. They called out my name, taunting me with each step.
Don’t stop.
Keep going, Alex.
“You can run, Alex,” a man taunted. “But you can’t hide. We will find you.”
The soles of my sneakers burned as I bolted down a back alleyway, headed toward The River Styx. But when I reached the rundown bar, my feet stuck to the ground. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t take another step.
