Page 57 of Chained By the Alpha (Claimed Duet #1)

· Cleo ·

Nothing makes sense to me anymore. I feel like I can’t trust anyone at the moment as I sit on the sofa in the living room while Zayn waits to be sent some video footage that will prove killing Deacon was justified, yet death is never the answer.

There would have been other options. I can’t picture Deacon ever doing that to me.

It makes me question everything more. I have known Deacon for years and Zayn for three months, yet he expects me to believe Deacon is capable of something so vile.

I’m torn between the Deacon I know and the evidence Zayn claims to have.

It’s difficult to trust my instincts when my emotions are clouded by doubt and confusion.

I never thought I would find myself in such a predicament, questioning the character of someone I thought I knew so well.

It has me questioning Zayn and his intentions.

Why would he keep this secret and help me search for my boyfriend, only to say this now?

Zayn’s phone rings loudly, and he starts downloading the supposed footage.

“Is that it?” I ask as he stares at his phone. He clenches his jaw, watching whatever it is. I stand up, and he curses under his breath. “What is it?” I ask. Zayn looks up at me, his face a mask of emotion. He quickly shuts his phone screen off, looking angrier.

The air is heavy with tension as Zayn paces in front of me, desperation evident in every movement. His silver eyes lock onto mine, pleading for understanding. “Cleo, please, just listen to me,” he begs.

“Show me, you said you have proof!” I tell him, and he looks like he is about to toss his phone, his anger growing by the second. “I have it, but please, baby, you need to believe me, the footage—” I hold my hand out for his phone, ignoring his words; he said he has proof, and I want to see it.

Betrayal gnaws at me like an insistent beast. I cross my arms defensively and glare at him.

“And why should I? You have lied to me from the start. Now give me the phone, Zayn, or I am leaving,” I snap at him.

He takes a step back, his face a mask of confusion.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and then speak again.

“What have you got to hide? Just show me.”

“Because I love you, and this isn’t helping!” he exclaims, his voice cracking. He reaches out to touch my arm. I yank it away, unable to stand even the slightest contact with him right now.

“Love? Is that what you call this?” I scoff, feeling my vision blur with unshed tears. “You’ve done nothing but lie to me, Zayn! And for what?”

He clenches his fists, the muscles in his tattooed arms and chest trembling with barely contained emotion. “I did it to protect you. I swear, Cleo, everything I’ve done has been for you.”

“How can I trust that, Zayn? This whole situation has left me questioning everything, including your love for me. I need more than just words to believe you now.”

“I was trying to protect you!”

“Protect me? By keeping secrets and manipulating me?” I shake my head, anger and hurt swirling together into a maelstrom of emotions that threatens to overwhelm me.

“How can I trust anything you say anymore? You helped me look for my boyfriend, knowing he was dead. Do you understand how sick that is? How fucking callous and cold!”

“Please, just give me a chance to explain.” Zayn’s voice is barely above a whisper, the raw vulnerability in his eyes threatening to break through the walls I’m desperately trying to build around my heart. “I’ll do anything to make this right.”

“Anything?” My voice wavers as I look into his eyes, searching for any hint of deception. All I see is pain and longing – the same feelings that are tearing me apart inside.

“Anything,” he promises, his voice thick with emotion.

“Then give me that damn phone,” I demand, my own voice trembling.

Zayn’s tense form paces in front of me, agitation rolling off him in waves. He holds his phone tightly. The video footage paused on the screen, displaying Deacon leading me to his car. “Just watch it,” Zayn insists, eyes pleading, desperation etched onto his handsome face.

He passes me the phone and I peer at the screen that is paused still. Gathering my courage and with a deep breath, I press play, knowing I am about to witness my ex’s death. Tears roll down my cheeks as I watch the footage, knowing this is the last moment I spent with him, according to Zayn.

The footage rolls, capturing the tense scene as Deacon guides me toward his car.

Yet I have no memory of this, and it is clear I am blind drunk.

Nothing appears overtly suspicious; I lean against him as he unlocks the vehicle, and I start sliding along the car side before Deacon catches me.

Deacon appears to be laughing as he opens the back of his car and sets me on the tailgate.

I can’t see anything going on because of the tinted windows.

Deacon doesn’t appear to be doing anything sinister from this angle.

Not that I can see much since there are so many cars in the parking lot.

Zayn moves toward Deacon, who even seems carefree as he addresses Zayn, laughing.

The poor quality of the video and the lack of sound make it difficult to discern the motive behind this attack.

This chaotic scene leaves me questioning the reliability of Zayn’s claims. Zayn and Deacon say a few words.

Nothing in Deacon’s behavior suggests he is doing anything wrong; he even motions toward me in the car and laughs.

Zayn nods, scratches his chin, and then turns into a savage.

My heart sinks as I watch Zayn slam the car trunk lid on Deacon’s head, his face contorted in anger.

Zayn steals Deacon’s phone, the screen lighting up as he stands at the back of the car before moving out of the camera’s view, yet I see him pocket the phone as he looks toward the club.

He then nervously glances toward the entrance as if fearing he’s being watched.

In one swift motion, Zayn grabs me from the back of Deacon’s car and stuffs me into his car.

A car pulls up beside us, and my breath catches in my throat as I recognize the driver - it’s Vance.

He seems equally apprehensive, tossing Deacon into the trunk of his car and stealing a worried glance around.

He seems to be hoping no one is watching and the scene ends, proving nothing.

What did he expect to show me with this footage?

It wouldn’t be the first time Deacon and I slept in the back of his car when we were too drunk to drive home.

“See?” Zayn says, stopping the video. “He was trying to hurt you, Cleo. I was protecting you.” My mind races as conflicting emotions surge within me.

I want to believe Zayn’s explanation desperately, but doubt gnaws at the edges of my thoughts.

The evidence before my eyes seems to contradict his words, leaving me torn between trusting who I know as Deacon and giving Zayn the benefit of the doubt.

I shake my head, anger boiling inside me. “This proves nothing, Zayn! It just shows you attacking him. How do I know you didn’t set this up?”

Zayn’s face falls. “Cleo, why would I do that? I have Deacon’s phone. It has the pictures he sent to Lydia. I can show you.”

My anger flares even more. “You could have sent those pictures! How am I supposed to believe anything you say now? You had his phone and were using it; I saw you!”

“Cleo, please. You know me. I would never—”

“Wouldn’t you?” I ask. My voice is barely a whisper as tears threaten to spill over. “Or were you just trying to control me? To ruin my father?”

“Never! That’s not who I am, Cleo.” His voice is desperate, his eyes filled with anguish. “I would never hurt you like that. And I never meant for any of this to happen. You know me. You have to believe me.”

“That’s the thing, Zayn… I don’t know you! I barely know you at all, and this entire time, you’ve been lying to me.” My voice trembles with the weight of betrayal. “I need to leave.”

Zayn’s eyes widen in shock as I tell him I’m leaving. He steps closer to me, his hand reaching out to touch my arm. I take a step back. I can’t let him touch me, not after what I’ve just discovered.

“Leave? No, Cleo… Where will you go?” His voice is filled with worry and fear, and I can see the pain in his eyes. I can’t let that sway me.

“Anywhere besides here,” I reply, my voice trembling slightly. “I can’t stay with someone I can’t trust.”

The hurt on Zayn’s face only deepens, and I can see the desperation in his eyes as he pleads with me. “Please, Cleo. I’ll do anything to make things right. I can’t bear the thought of losing you.”

Despite myself, my heart aches at his words. I know that deep down, he has grown to love me, however I am not sure that was his intention from the start. Love isn’t enough to make up for the lies and betrayal.

He runs his fingers through his hair, desperation etched deeply into his features, as Zayn’s pleading gaze seems to bore a hole straight through me.

The way his silver eyes seem to shimmer, reflecting the unshed tears of someone so vulnerable and desperate for my understanding, is a sight that sears into my heart, leaving it twisted and wrenched in a painful, aching way.

“Damn it, Cleo,” Zayn swears, his hand moving through his dark hair in a frustrated, restless gesture.

“You’re just going to walk away? Just like that?

” His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of our history together.

My heart aches, and I struggle to maintain my resolve.

The internal conflict raging within me is like a storm of emotions - love, betrayal, pain, and guilt.

Especially knowing I have been an idiot fooling around with Zayn when all along he is the reason Deacon was missing.