AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I need to go home,” I choke out, the weight of the truth pressing heavily on my chest. “Get me out of here, Matty.”
“Charlotte, think this through.”
“I have, and I keep going back and forth. I can’t figure out what I want.” Tears threaten to push their way out again, a tumultuous tempest brewing within, torn between the fear of my past and the uncertainty of my future. The emotions tug me in every direction, a relentless battle raging within my soul.
The shower shuts off, the abrupt silence amplifying the urgency of our situation. Time is slipping through our fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. I hastily grab the folder and stuff it back into my backpack, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Matty reaches out and grips my wrist, his touch warm and gentle, grounding me in the chaos. “Hey, we will figure this all out. You and me, sweetheart.”
“Promise?” I whisper, my voice tinged with desperation, seeking reassurance in the turbulent storm of uncertainty. I need him by my side, a rock to lean on amidst the crashing waves of my life.
“Ah, sweetheart, I promise,” he says, his lips brushing my wrist in a comforting gesture.
A knock echoes on the door, but it isn’t my door. It’s Milo’s.
I drop my bag, the thud echoing the rapid thumping of my heart, as Milo opens the other bathroom door. Panic surges through me, and I glance at Matty, who’s trying to stand but winces in pain.
Milo’s innocent voice greets someone, and dread coils in the pit of my stomach. I can’t just stand here. I need to protect Milo. Darting to the door of my room, I quickly toss the chair to the side and swing it open, ready to confront the danger, and there stands Desmond.
“Running away, kitten?” he questions, his voice a taunting caress dripping with malice. The malevolent edge sends shivers down my spine, a reminder of the darkness he embodies. Desmond, the personification of danger, has a way of making my blood run cold and then hotter than a furnace. The air grows thick with tension and foreboding as a confrontation with the very embodiment of my dark past unfolds before me.
Thirty
“Desmond.”My heart seizes in my chest. “Milo,” I call out, attempting to push past Desmond, but he grips my bicep firmly and drags me toward him.
From the corner of my eye, I can just make out Milo walking down the hall with Brooklyn. Neither of them looks back at me, and bile rises in my throat from a noxious blend of betrayal and fear.
“Matthew,” Desmond addresses Matty briefly before turning back to me. His face is an unreadable mask of indifference, like a sculpture carved from cold, unforgiving marble. “We need to talk.”
I swallow hard, trying to gather the strength that seems to be slipping through my fingers like fine sand. A shiver races down my spine. In the next breath, Desmond reaches down and tosses me over his shoulder.
“Desmond!” I screech, my voice a symphony of desperation. I catch a fleeting glimpse of Matty’s wide-eyed stare. I pound on Desmond’s back, my fists echoing my cries. “Put me down, put me down.” My pleas reverberate through the corridor.
“Lyric,” Desmond says. I twist and try to look around, but all I can see are Lyric’s black shoes. “Get your brother and her backpack. You know where I’ll be,” he instructs before striding forward. “And, Lyric, scramble all the cameras.”
My heart plummets, a sickening thud reverberating in my chest. It feels as if it has fallen onto the cold floor that rushes past me. Everything inside me freezes, caught in a cruel, icy grip and spiraling into a dark, chaotic frenzy.
He knows.
He knows, and I know.
Or at least, he suspects.
“Desmond.” I grit my teeth, bracing myself against his broad back, trying to slow my erratic breathing and regain some semblance of composure. “Think this through. Whatever your intentions, Milo needs me.” My voice, tinged with desperation, carries a plea for reason amidst the gathering storm of darkness that threatens to consume us all.
“He does need you,” Desmond agrees, his voice a low rumble that sends a shiver down my spine, but he doesn’t relent. We pass a few of his brothers in the foyer—Dom and Dante—both silent witnesses to my struggle as I attempt to free myself from Desmond’s unyielding grip.
The stinging slap on my backside reverberates through the corridor, and I freeze in shock. “Charlotte, you’re testing my patience. Stop before you hurt yourself.”
I swallow hard, acutely aware of our audience. “Don’t hurt me,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I feel small and insignificant with this unsettling display of dominance.
Desmond growls in response, a primal sound that makes my heart race. He doesn’t address my plea, instead swinging open a door and leading us into a dimly lit staircase. I close my eyes, trying to block out the fear as he carries me down, his pace picking up speed.
I know exactly where he’s taking me.
Fear coils in my stomach, threatening to overwhelm me, but I refuse to let it show. I won’t give him the satisfaction. Every step takes us deeper into the abyss of secrets, a place where darkness reigns and the shadows play sinister games. I’m trapped, entangled in a web I can’t escape from.
Occasional glimpses of the hallway flicker past us. Desmond turns right, leading us into the dungeon, a place I hadn’t had the chance to examine earlier. As we step inside, he shifts me off his shoulder and holds me still, making my head spin as the blood rushes to it.
