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That I hate him.
That I want to kill him for what he’s done—for breaking me once and for all.
But that’s not what I say. Instead, I find myself thanking my rapist for desecrating my body while parading as a false profit. “Thank you, my Lord,” I rasp, my throat raw from…
From everything.
He smiles, and the look is so soft, so kind, so Isaac, I wonder if the man I once loved ever existed at all.
I stare blankly at nothing as he slowly unbinds my hands and presses pause on the laptop. As he brushes my damp hair from my face and pushes to his feet. As he takes his time dressing like he hasn’t got a care in the world.
All the while, I wait, holding my breath, needing him to just leave so I can pick up the tattered remains of the person I used to be.
Isaac looks down, checking his watch. His brows lift. “Shit,” he murmurs. “I’ve got somewhere to be.” His eyes scan my room and he grimaces. “Make sure you clean up. I don’t want to see this mess when I get home.”
With that, he spins on his heel and leaves, my door slamming shut behind him. One of my pictures falls from the wall with the force of it and I watch as it collides with the ground, the glass splintering and shattering into irreparable pieces, just like me.
My knee bounces wildly, my phone clutched tightly in my hand. Something’s wrong. I feel it in my gut. Something is so fucking wrong, but I don’t know what it is.
When I woke up this morning, Eve was gone, but the bed was still warm in her spot. I searched the entire loft and outside, but she was nowhere to be found. Despite myself, I assumed she went to grab coffee or breakfast or something. I forced myself to stay calm. To not freak the fuck out.
To not be overbearing. It’s not what she needs. She needs choices and freedom, I reminded myself.
So I sat on the couch and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
It’s been an hour since I woke up, and she still isn’t home.
I’ve called her a million times, but she hasn’t answered. Maybe that’s what’s killing me, the fact I haven’t heard from her. I don’t know where she is, where she could be. Chase and Oli are here and Kon’s at the shop.
But where the fuck is Eve?
I bring her number up and call her again. I don’t care if I’m being annoying. I need to know she’s okay.
“Calling again?” Chase grumbles as he walks into the living room, a cup of coffee in hand. He looks haggard. He’s been trying to find a stupid farm to buy Oli and hasn’t been sleeping for shit. But he keeps putting on a happy face so she doesn’t worry.
Even if I understand why, he coddles her way too fucking much.
Running my hand through my hair, I keep the phone pressed to my ear as I nod, listening to it ring and ring, before finally going to her voicemail.
“I just have a bad feeling,” I mutter. “Don’t know why.” He sinks onto the other couch, sipping his drink as he eyes me.
“Could it just be that she left without telling you? Ease up a bit, man.”
I shake my head. That’s not it. Yeah, I would’ve liked knowing where she was going, but that’s not why I’m on edge.
Right?
No.
No.
I don’t care about keeping tabs on her. I don’t care that she made a decision for herself and left. I care about keeping her safe. But right now, I don’t know where she is. And if I don’t know where she is, then how the fuck can I protect her?
I press redial and her phone goes to voicemail again. A low snarl rips from me as I toss my phone onto the couch beside me. Shit.
