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For both our sakes, I hope that’s true.
“I can’t wait as long as you’re willing to.” I sigh.
“And if you don’t have a choice?”
I step into the dark corridor, letting the heavy door slam behind me, refusing to think of that possibility. There’s this gnawing pressure building in my head with every step I take. I fucked up… I fucking fucked up! And Bartiste is still out there.
I wipe a hand over my face, trying to pry Vin’s words out of my head.I need the fucking choice!
He’s been through a lot. The only one of us who didn’t come from money. He came from poverty, emotional, and physical abuse. I don’t know if it shaped him differently, or if he was always this way, but Vincent Sinclair does not need anything to make people crawl to his feet. He can turn over his pockets and let dust fall from them, and people will still spill all their secrets.
Maybe it’s his charm too. Maybe it’s the deadly look in his eyes.
Or maybe it’s the effect of that one singular moment when he brought his father to the brink of death and kept him there until he agreed to fuck off out of our city. Either way, no one’s been missing the man. Especially not Vincent’s mom.
I hope I get to witness Bartiste’s downfall soon, even though it might not make a difference to the idea that formed in my head, the thoughts surrounding it getting louder every day.
That’s not what I want for Bartiste, though. There will be no mercy for the man who dared take Annika away from me and kill my brother’s woman. He will not be chased away. No, he will be hunted down and gutted like the scum he is.
ANNIKA
I can’t explain why,but the moment the bedroom door opened behind me, I pretended to be asleep. I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Ronan, even in this room laced with his scent, I could recognize how much stronger it becomes with his presence. It was him. And I just lay here, hugging the comforter to my chest, my back to the door, and my eyes closed.
I stayed like that while he paused next to the bed, listening to his strained breaths like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders. I laid here while he stroked my hair, before he gently lifted the comforter from my legs to check on my bandages, as he’s done multiple times a day since he brought me here. I even stayed like this while he went to the bathroom and took a shower.
I didn’t even move when I heard a loud thud that rattled the shared bathroom wall and the hiss that followed. I stayed like that as he crawled into bed with me, keeping his distance, yet… extending a touch to me, a gentle one between my shoulder blades. No, he wasn’t–isn’t keeping his distance—he’s giving me space. The two are worlds apart.
But everything feels wrong now and I’m not sure how to make it right.
I can feel the heaviness that weighs down the mattress right along with him as he returns from his shower, the anger, the frustration, the burden of everything else. I want to turn around, soothe him, tell him it will all get better. But I can’t move… I can’t lie to him.
Eventually, I fall asleep for real, but even in that slumber, I can feel him—I’m safe.
* * *
I woke up with a start. Multiple voices sounding past the bedroom door, and this goddamn room is dark again. I take a deep breath, praying his scent will ground me yet again. Only I seem to have gotten used to it now. It’s not as strong anymore… and it smells like me too.Like us.
Jumping out of bed quickly, I’m careful not to force my muscles, and pull the blinds open. I head toward the door and listen, breathing easier when I recognize the voices. There’re three of them. One of them is Ronan, one is probably Finn, but I’m not entirely sure who the third is.
I turn around, slowly walking back to the large window, taking in yet another marvelous view of Queenscove and the sea beyond. But today… today I don’t seem to hate it as much as I did yesterday.
I can’t avoid the world any longer. I can’t avoid the arrangements that have to be made for Hanna either. Although Ronan did dare to ask me some very general questions about her, like her favorite color, music, and her favorite flower. He stopped when my voice began to tremble, on the verge of sobbing.
After brushing my teeth, I pull one of Ronan’s shirts on. It’s long enough that it covers my ass, but doesn’t quite reach the middle of my thighs. It doesn’t matter; since those days with Bartiste, my nakedness hasn’t felt important.
The voices are louder when I walk into the corridor and near the living area, but when I step into view, the room goes silent. There’re more than three people here—Ronan, Finnigan, Vincent, and Ekaterina. All sitting or standing around the kitchen island.
It seems like I interrupted a discussion I’m not supposed to be privy to. But it’s not that, is it? I’m the elephant in the room. The woman who got kidnapped along with her best friend, but only she came back.
Ronan rushes to me before I even finish that thought. He wants to comfort me so badly, but I attempt to step around him and toward the fridge.
“Sit down. I’ll get you what you need.”
“It’s okay, I can do it.”
“Annika,” he warns. “Sit down. Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll do it for you.”
I drag my eyes up and look at him briefly before turning my head toward the empty seat. It’s between Ekaterina and Vincent. That means I will be facing Finnigan… fuck.
