Page 31

JENNA

I feel utterly destroyed. In a matter of what feels like minutes, everything I thought I knew about my world crashed around me.

The worst of it is from Blaise. The man I gave all of myself to, whose DNA runs through our baby, stands before me with blood on his hands.

Ronan's body lies on the floor lifeless.

My shoulders shake as sobs of fear and pain rack through me. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold the pieces together as my world shatters.

"We need to leave. Now." Blaise's voice cuts through my tears. "Ronan's men will come looking for him soon."

I press closer against the wall, torn between the urge to run from him and the cold reality that I have nowhere else to go. My eyes dart to the door, but Blaise shifts to block my escape route.

"I won't hurt you." His hands raise, palms out. "I know you don't believe anything I say right now, but we're both in danger."

I can’t get over the image of his face, the deadly coldness in his eyes as he fired shot after shot, killing Ronan. How can I trust a stone cold killer?

And yet, if he wanted me dead, he could have let Ronan do it, unless he wanted the satisfaction of doing it himself.

I don't want you dead . His words in the wine cellar come back to me. He could have escaped, but he found me to protect me. He shot Ronan to save me.

“I’ve sent someone to protect your mother.”

His words shock me out of my fear-filled haze. “My mother?” She's still recovering from surgery, vulnerable and alone.

He nods. “I don’t know that she’s in danger, but in case the Keans want to use her to get to you, or me, I have someone protecting her.” He reaches his hand to me. “Right now, though, you and I need to get the hell out. Now.”

Whatever Blaise's true intentions, he helped save my mother’s life.

Got her the heart transplant she desperately needed.

I feel like I don’t have much choice at this point but to trust him.

Not with my heart. Never again with my heart.

But if he can get me off the estate and me and my mother safe, I’ll trust him this one time.

A sound outside makes us both freeze. Footsteps crunch on gravel, drawing closer to the cottage.

"Jenna." Blaise's voice drops to an urgent whisper. "Please. Trust me one last time. Just until we're safe."

I push away from the wall, wiping tears from my cheeks. "Fine. But only because I don't have a choice."

I force my shaking legs to move, following Blaise toward the back door. Every instinct screams at me to run the other direction, away from the man who betrayed me, away from the killer who shot Ronan. But logic wins out.

We exit the back door and I follow Blaise, moving like a shadow through the yard, staying close to the hedges.

I stumble after him, my heart thundering so loud I'm sure it will give us away.

When I trip on a root, his hand catches my elbow, steadying me.

The touch sends electricity through my skin, familiar yet foreign now that I know the truth.

"Stay close," he whispers, leading me toward the grove of oak trees near the back of the estate. The same grove where we had our picnic. Where I gave myself to him completely, believing in our connection. Fresh tears blur my vision, but I blink them back. I can't afford to break down now.

A shout rings out from the direction of the main house. Flashlight beams cut through the darkness, sweeping across the grounds. Blaise pulls me behind a thick oak tree, pressing me against the rough bark. His body shields mine as the lights pass by.

His breath fans across my face, and for a moment I'm transported back to all the times he's held me like this before. I remind myself that those moments were lies and I have to fight the urge to shove him away from me.

The voices fade and Blaise steps back, checking our surroundings before motioning me forward. We weave through the trees, moving deeper into the shadows. I begin to see each step as moving away from everything I’ve ever known. My home. My job. Where am I going? What will I do?

The massive oak looms ahead, our oak. I nearly weep as the memories flood back.

Blaise pulls me behind its thick trunk, his body pressing close as voices echo in the distance.

His familiar scent surrounds me. I squeeze my eyes shut, fighting the urge to lean into his warmth like I would have just hours ago.

Blaise pulls out his phone, keeping his voice low while scanning our surroundings.

"Phoenix, we need extraction at the gate. Through the woods. Where Flint picked me up—" Blaise pauses, listening. "Yes, both of us.”

Flint. Blaise. All of a sudden, it hits me. The Ifrinns. I look up into his face, at the man I’d known when I was child and he was a teen. I never recognized him.

“Have the car ready." He ends the call with a sharp tap.

More shouts echo from the direction of the house. The search parties are spreading out, methodically covering the grounds.

"We need to move." Blaise reaches for my hand, but I pull back. The hurt that flashes across his face almost breaks my resolve. Almost.

"I can follow on my own." My voice comes out steadier than I feel.

He nods once, sharp and professional. Like we're strangers. I suppose we are. I never really knew him at all.

"Stay close. The gate's not far, but it will feel like miles." He moves forward, picking a path through the trees.

I trail behind him, trying to step where he steps to minimize noise. Each snapped twig makes me flinch, certain it will give away our position.

The voices grow fainter as we push deeper into the woods, but I can't shake the feeling of being hunted.

A twig snaps behind us, and before I can turn, a guard steps out from behind a tree. "Found y?—”

Blaise’s silenced shot is so quiet I almost miss it. One moment, the guard is reaching for his radio. The next, he crumples to the ground. Just like that. A life snuffed out in a nanosecond.

My hand clamps over my mouth to stifle a gasp. Blaise moves with terrifying efficiency, dragging the body behind some bushes. There's no hesitation, no remorse in his movements. This isn't the tender lover I thought I knew. This is a trained killer.

I watch in stunned silence as Blaise plucks the radio from the dead guard's belt. He adjusts something on the device, then speaks into it with an accent I've never heard from him before.

"Sector four clear. Think I saw movement near the north wall heading to the garage." The voice doesn't sound anything like Blaise. "Yeah, heading that way now."

Static crackles through the radio. " Copy that. Teams two and three redirecting to east fence ."

The moonlight catches his face as he turns to me, and I see no trace of the man who held me so gently just days ago. His features are hard, eyes cold as he scans the tree line. The gun in his hand looks natural, like an extension of his arm.

My stomach lurches. How many others has he killed? Was this what he was thinking about during our intimate moments, ways to murder Ronan and his family? The casual way he took that man's life makes me wonder if anything about him was real.

Blaise reaches for my elbow, but I stumble back. "Don't touch me. You just… you killed him like it was nothing."

"We need to move." He doesn't respond to my comment. "They won't stay fooled for long."

He urges me forward, and I continue our path toward the gate.

The metal door looms ahead. At one time, I used to have a romantic notion of the doors in the walls.

Like the door to The Secret Garden. Now, it’s my last barrier between captivity and freedom.

Between the life I knew and whatever uncertain future awaits.

“When this door opens, you run, Jenna, as hard as you can through the woods to the road on the other side. You understand?”

All of a sudden, it sounds like I’m going alone, and as much as I despise Blaise right now, I know I need him until I’m safe.

“I’ll be right behind you, but you have to run. Don’t stop, no matter what, okay?”

Fear grips me, paralyzes me.

He rubs my arm, and for once I don’t flinch away. “You can do this.” He nods as if he’s reassuring me.

He unlatches the bolt and swings the door open. “Run!”

I do as he says. Gunfire sounds. It pings off the open door.

I sprint to the woods, my feet carrying me faster than I knew I could move. Branches whip at my face as I crash through the underbrush.

A gunshot cracks through the night, making me stumble. Another shot follows, then another.

“Keep going, Jenna.”

More shots ring out.

“Oh! Mother fucker!”

I slow to find out what happened.

“Don’t stop, Jenna. Run!”

I realize he’s running behind me on purpose to act as a shield. I try to pick up the pace, but my lungs are heaving and my legs burn.

A bullet whizzes past my head, so close I feel the air displacement. I dig deep, finding the strength to run harder, faster. Branches tear at my face and arms. But I don't slow down, can't slow down. The baby and I will die if they catch us.

Finally, I burst through the tree line. Moonlight spills across an empty stretch of road where a black SUV idles. For one breathless moment, hope surges through me. I’ve made it.

A man steps out from behind the vehicle, gun raised and pointed in my direction. I haven’t made it at all.

In this moment, suspended between life and death, I wish I could go back. Back before I learned the brutal truth about everyone I trusted. Back before I fell in love with a lie. Back before my childish crush led to so much death and pain.

But I can't change the past. All I can do is stand here, terrified and broken, as another stranger decides my fate.