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A black Rolls Royce rolls silently up to our level, stopping next to the man. I know without a doubt that it’s his ride, that he intends to take my sister with him.
“I’m not leaving you with a stranger who’s trying to fucking kidnap you.”
“He’s not… he’s not a stranger,” she admits, sliding her gaze over to meet mine.
I slip my phone out of my pocket in case I need to discreetly call the police. It’s when I flip it face up that I see I have two texts from Nera. I unlock my screen and read them, my stomach immediately plummeting when I take in her words.
Meanwhile, the man moves his hand from the front of Tess’ throat to cup the back of her neck in a controlling hold. He forces her head back to look into his eyes.
“Tell him who I am,” he orders, sharp teeth on display as he grins. It’s cold and emotionless and sends a shiver shooting down my spine.
I’m barely paying attention anymore, my concern for my sister drowned out by the roaring in my ears at Nera’s attempt at finishing things with me. My head spins as rage sends blood rushing straight to my brain.
My body twitches with the need to find her and correct her of the mistaken assumption that she can end our relationship.
“He’s…” Tess starts, face still angled up towards the man. He watches her with a savage gleam in his eyes, his gaze locked on her mouth. Dark ownership rolls off of him as he waits for her to speak. He leans forward when her lips part, as if transfixed by her. “He’s…”
“Tell him,” he growls, the words more a seductive caress than a threatening command.
She swallows.
Blinks.
And finally, speaks.
“He’s my fiancé.”
???
I drive down the highway like I’m asking for a fatal car crash to take me into the next life, but I don’t care. My phone is in my hand and I try calling Nera a fifth time.
Yet again, it goes straight to voicemail.
My teeth grind together so hard, I’m surprised they don’t make an audible noise.
“Nera,” I growl. “Pick up the phone. We’re not over, you hear me? I’m coming to pick you up now and we’re going to talk.” My grip tightens around the phone as I think about her texts. They’re seared into my memory; I see them every time I blink. “Then I’m going to punish the fuck out of you for trying to end this.”
I hang up and throw my phone so hard on the passenger seat it bounces off, clips the door, and lands back on the seat. The feeling of helplessness in my chest is almost crippling. I can’t drive any faster, I can’t get any answers from her, I have no idea where she is.
I hit my palm repeatedly on the top of the wheel. It serves no purpose except to get the rage out and to make me feel an emotion other than pain.
I have no idea why she’d abruptly try to end things. I brush my hand across my jaw as I stare out the window. I can’t let myself think about her potentially having found out my secret. There’s no way she could anyway.
We’ve never been closer and things have been even better since she came back from the holidays. We spend every moment we can together and although it’s not as much I’d like, it’s what’s possible in our situation. I cook her meals, we watch shows, sometimes we go out.
I wonder if this isn’t one of the times where she pushes me away. Her fear of commitment has been dormant since before the break, but maybe it’s back now.
If it is, I’ll make quick work of dealing with it like I have every time before. She’s not getting away from me, it’s that simple.
I grab my phone, accidentally swerving into the next lane in the process.
Me:Where are you?
Me:Talk to me.
Me:Please.
I watch the screen, accidentally dropping below the speed limit and getting honked and cursed at by other drivers. The messages don’t get marked as delivered. Her phone must be off.
