Page 52

I walk over to the desk and pull out a cigarette from inside. I don’t normally fucking smoke, but I need to after that. I pull out my lighter, sparking the cancer stick to life.

The smoke fills my lungs, burning yet calming. I release a cloud of smoke as I look at her on the camera. The look of defeat settled on her face. She gave up. She is mine. Forever.

My phone rings, interrupting my view. Lucien’s name flashes across the screen.

“What the fuck do you want?”

“Where is Evelyn?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Silas told me how pissed you were.”

“OF COURSE I’M FUCKING PISSED!”

My blood boils. The fucking audacity.

“You didn’t kill her, did you?”

His tone has changed. He sounds like he is trying to talk me off the ledge, but I’ve already jumped off.

“Not exactly.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Let’s just say that she is physically alive.”

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid. You know if she’s gone, you’ll have to be with Lacey.”

Her name makes my skin fucking crawl. I cringe at the thought.

“Trust me. She will never be gone.” I end the call and look at her through the feed. It’s not the same. I want to be in her presence.

I stand up and walk out of the office. I’ll never kill her. She belongs to me. I protect what belongs to me.

* **

Evelyn

The chill in the air feels threatening, as if the darkness has come to take me one last time.You’re not dead.

The sound of footsteps comes again. His chaotic energy surrounds me. He doesn’t appear calm and collected. He seems distraught, as if he is battling with himself internally.

His dark hair is messy, and blood streaks through it. His knuckles appear to have fresh wounds.He’s weak right now. You’re breaking him.

He goes behind me and grabs my wrists. The duct tape pinches against my skin. I feel the cold metal brush against my skin, and my wrists are free. I roll out my wrists, feeling sensation return to my fingers.

He moves to kneel before me, and he slices through the tape binding my ankles together. All that remains is the rope and the gag. The gag is full of reminders that I am nothing. My voice means nothing. He can take it all away if he wants.He could have killed you, but he didn’t.

He looks upon me from his crouched position. He takes his finger and trails it over the scars he has given me. I wince at the sting. It fucking burns. I bite down hard on the gag, and he chuckles.

The sound makes me want to crawl out of my skin.

“If I let you go,” he pauses, tracing the blood down my stomach, “will you run?”

His tone is daring.He wants you to run. He wants to catch you.

I shake my head no quickly.