Page 33

G od, it’s been a while since I’ve come here.

The smallest branches snap under my feet as I move forward, careful enough not to make too much noise. The cold air blows in my face, and I take a shaky breath. The closer I’m getting to the abandoned building, the higher my anxiety skyrockets.

I’m not afraid of what Wyatt could do to me. I’m not afraid of finally confronting him. I’m not afraid that tonight I might not return home. None of that concerns me. My biggest concern is Rose. It took me forty minutes to reach this place, and that was by driving way over the speed limit.

What if he killed her already? What is he’s torturing her as I’m taking my sweet fucking time, trying to reach the warehouse undetected. Then again, if he expected I’d come here, he wouldn’t just kill her.

I reach the front door — or the lack thereof. The entire entrance, as well as the inside, if my memory serves me right, is ruined. Windows are smashed, small and big glass shards alike on the ground. Empty beer cans and broken bottles of alcohol all linger on the floor. The stench of vomit makes me gag and scrunch my nose in pure disgust.

Cigarette butts, the remains of joints, are scattered around. Some have been here for years; some are newer. As I step inside, my hand is immediately in my pocket on the small weapon Blair gave me.

My eyes scan the area thoroughly, and I’m grateful that I remember the layout by heart. The walls are dirty, with a lot of amateur graffiti covering them. I wince slightly as I notice the one I’d done for Wyatt and myself.

It’s a simple red heart with our initials in the middle. It covers half the wall, and I can’t say it’s one of my proudest moments.

Back when I was in a relationship with Wyatt, I had feelings for Cove. They weren’t as strong as they are now, but I was well aware that nothing could happen between the two of us. Hence, when Wyatt came along, I did hesitate a little.

However, he gave me the right amount of attention at the right time, and I couldn’t see past the blatant manipulation, gaslighting, and isolation. In a way, I’ll never stop blaming myself. For allowing him to use and abuse me for so long. For allowing him to get away with it unscathed. For kidnapping Rose.

Mainly, I’ll never forgive him.

The plan I have for him is the most fitting for this situation, and it will be one hell of a way to go out. He won’t see it coming — he won’t see me coming. I’m still figuring out which weapon exactly to use and how to properly let all of the pent-up anger out on him. I’ll figure it out, though. Perhaps it’s best if I go with the flow and see how I’m feeling and what mood I’m in when the time comes.

I shake off the thoughts, walking further into the warehouse.

Wyatt’s here. Some of his little gang friends are here, too. I can sense them, and I can tell where a couple of them are hidden. I don’t attempt to lure them out of their hiding spots or to confront them. No, my main priority is Rose.

Their eyes follow every step I take, every time I turn down a hallway. It takes me approximately ten minutes to skim through the first two floors and the attic. Around seven people are around, some more silent than others.

Though, Rose isn’t anywhere to be seen.

Which only leaves the basement.

Of course it’s the fucking basement.

Shivers start spreading through my body, and I shudder. The cold air coming from the broken windows, water dripping down the pipes on the walls, and the creaking under my feet as I walk down the stairs cause the small hairs on my neck to rise.

It’s creepy, and it’s dark.

I take my phone out and turn on the flashlight. My heart starts beating rapidly against my chest, and I swallow, determined to continue walking. I’m not scared of the dark. I’m not scared of being alone here. But that’s precisely the problem — I am not alone.

I’m unsure who the morons are, but they’re not being as subtle as they think they’re being. Their footsteps are heavy, and although they’re trying to conceal them and be silent, it’s impossible. My senses are too keen, and I easily pick up on them when needed.

Soon enough, I reach the end of the stairs. There’s only one room, and I can feel in my bones that Rose is in there. My free hand grips the weapon in my pocket, and I turn the flashlight off, tucking my phone away before grabbing the doorknob.

Without having any time to think about it, I push it open, step inside, and close the door behind me. A quick inspection of the place causes a weight to be lifted off my shoulders because no one is inside. No one but Rose.

Immediately, I’m next to her, crouched down as I slowly remove the gag and the makeshift blindfold. Rose blinks, trying to adjust to the dimmed light of the flickering bulb above us. Once her eyes meet mine, relief washes over her.

“Thank God,’’ she breathes out, her voice shaky. “I thought no one was coming to get me.’’

“Don’t be ridiculous.’’ I give her a soft smile, albeit forced. “I’ll always come find you.’’

“Cheesy.’’

I roll my eyes, starting to undo her ropes. A couple of curse words slip from my tongue at the realization of just how thick the ropes are and how many knots they have. Wyatt really didn’t want Rose to be able to escape, and he tied it around her body too tightly. At least five double knots are on the ropes, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady my shaking hands.

“Are you alright? Did the bastard hurt you?”

Rose shakes her head. “Not physically. Well, my stomach hurts. He fed me terrible food.’’

I snort. “Besides that, are you okay? He didn’t hit, torture, or try to extract information out of you?”

“No,’’ she looks directly into my eyes, and I see sincerity. “I’m fine. I promise.’’

The remaining burden seems to vanish off my shoulders, and I’m able to relax slightly. I don’t lower my guard, though. My ears are perked for any footsteps or any sounds outside the room we’re in. My fingers fumble the knots, and I manage to get one undone.

“That’s good,’’ I sigh out. “Did he happen to tell you anything?”

Rose struggles against the ropes, trying to help me. Soon, she stops squirming, realizing it’s futile. Her eyes are focused on the door, almost as if she’s waiting for Wyatt to enter. After a few moments of utter silence and no one coming in, her attention returns to me.

“I tried asking him a lot of questions,’’ Rose starts explaining. “Mainly, what were his plans with you? He wouldn’t give me a straight answer, but I did gather that he is pissed.’’

A scoff leaves me, and I can’t suppress the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, he’s pissed I got him banished, isn’t he?”

“Not quite.’’

I get the second knot undone and pause momentarily. “Go on.’’

“He’s pissed you moved on.’’

My eyes close, and I pinch the bridge of my nose. The anger I’ve been trying to hold down slowly starts fighting to resurface, and as soon as I lay my eyes on the bastard, I’ll let the anger consume me. It’s not healthy, but what is it these days?

“That’s his issue? Cove?”

Rose nods. “And it’s like… really creepy, too.’’

“Elaborate, please.’’

“He chose me because he thinks I know the most about you. He asked a lot of questions about your sex life with Cove.’’

Bile rises in my throat, and I try to swallow it down, though it doesn’t quite disappear. My brows lift nearly to my hairline as Rose continues explaining. There’s a look of uncertainty on her face, but she doesn’t stop.

“He… he wanted to know about your current kinks. He said he needed to know what you like these days so he could, uh… satisfy you.’’

“As if I’d ever let the motherfucker touch me again. It’s bad enough that he was my first.’’

Rose looks away. “I know… But, Aria, I don’t think he cares about your consent here. He’s delusional; he thinks he can whisk you away and you’ll be his again.’’

“Is that what all of this is about? He wants me back?”

“I don’t think he wants you back because he loves you,’’ her eyes snap back to mine. “He just hates that someone else has you. That’s all. And I think that obsessive thought makes him far more dangerous than we thought. So, please, don’t tell me you came here alone.’’

I avert my eyes, focusing back on undoing her ropes. I tug on them, trying to untie them and bite the inside of my cheek. From the corner of my eye, I see Rose rolling her eyes in resignation, then shaking her head, disapproving.

“That was very stupid of you.’’

“Don’t worry,’’ I tug on the knot, and it comes undone. “I’m chipped.’’

“What?”

I nod. “I have a tracker in my necklace, my thigh, and my neck. Don’t worry, we’ll be found soon.’’

“And you did that voluntarily?”

“The trackers in my body? Yeah, it helped me feel a lot safer after Wyatt left New York. And the necklace was a gift from Mom for Christmas last year.’’

“Jesus Christ,’’ she whistles.

“Remind me to have you chipped too.’’

“No, thanks.’’

“I wasn’t asking.’’

She raises a brow as the final knot is untied. She shrugs the ropes off her body and stands up, stumbling a little. I catch her before she can fall, and she leans on me. It takes her a moment to regain control of her feet, then she takes a few steps and stretches. Her back snaps, and so does her neck, while she moves.

“Do you plan on having me kidnapped again or something?”

A wave of guilt threatens to slip from my eyes. “I’m so sorry, Rose. It never occurred to me that he’d come for you. I’m really sorry for putting you through this.’’

Rose’s arms wrap around me, and she pulls me into a tight hug, softly stroking my back. I take a deep breath, returning the embrace. My chest swells with happiness, the realization finally sinking in. She’s alive, and she’s okay. And she doesn’t hate me.

“It’s not your fault,’’ she mumbles, stepping back and smiling. “You couldn’t have predicted this. But I would not tell James about this. He’ll go ballistic.’’

A snort of disbelief fills the room, and she laughs at my expression. I’ve met a lot of possessive men in my life. Dad, Arlo, even Cove. But James? He’s on a whole other level. It’s kind of terrifying, if I’m being honest. I would not want to get on his bad side, ever.

He’s scary as hell.

My body goes rigid as I hear footsteps. My eyes narrow, ears perk, and Rose stops moving, carefully observing my face. I put a finger on my lips, and she gets the message. Someone’s coming down the stairs.

The footsteps are much lighter than those I heard upstairs, and I could recognize them anywhere. It’s Wyatt. As if to taunt me, his movements are deliberately slow, almost to the point of suffocating me.

Air thickens around me as he pushes the door open and steps inside. The lightbulb above flickers, and my skin gets goosebumps all over. Instinctively, I stand in front of Rose, hands by my side, fisted.

His brown hair is slicked back, with one strand falling down his forehead. The small scar he got while riding his bike and falling off is hidden poorly behind the hair, his lips curled into a deep, sadistic smirk.

It’s his eyes.

Those used to terrify me. Until recently, even when my nightmares didn’t show his face, his eyes would be there. There was a certain look he’d give me before he did things to me, and it’s this one. It used to force me to quiver in his presence, to beg, and to cry.

Now, I no longer feel like that.

I’m not alone.

And mentally, I’m no longer that scared little girl.

I’d be lying if I said that the trauma and fear disappeared overnight. They didn’t. They probably never will. But I found the strength inside me. It’s powerful enough not to let the fear overpower me and take control of my body, mind, or soul. It keeps me alive.

My power is Cove. He gave me the power I was craving and needing and made sure his words made a permanent mark on me. Cove Steele is the reason I am able to stand in front of Wyatt with my head held high, with the fear shoved at the back of my head.

Cove Steele put the pieces of my tarnished soul back together, taking a couple for himself to keep. And I know he’ll keep them safe. My soul belongs to him. Everything that I am, everything that I want to be, is all his.

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Wyatt’s smirk falters for a moment, a look of surprise flashing behind his eyes. Not too long ago, back at the fighting basement, I was too scared. I could barely speak or move, let alone keep strong eye contact.

Yet here I am, silently challenging him, urging him to do something. He didn’t expect it — he had hoped to see that broken, terrified girl he loved to use and abuse.

“Is everything alright, Wyatt? Or, do you prefer Karl now?”

I surprised him with the tranquility in my voice. I’m shocked, too, though I don’t let it show. The time of him being able to see through me, to spot my weaknesses and use them against me, is long gone. Not anymore. Not ever again.

“Wyatt is fine, baby,’’ he says, stepping forward. The smirk returns, but the confidence lacks in his eyes. He drifts his attention to Rose behind me, then settles his gaze on me. He’s trying to intimidate me, giving me that sadistic look he’s used to seeing me fear.

“Baby? I’m not your baby, Wyatt.’’

He lifts a brow, tilting his head to the side. Silently, he scans me, head to toe, a few times. He chuckles, shaking his head and laughing.

“You used to be,’’ he states. “Don’t you remember? It was one of the best years of our lives.’’

A scoff slips from me before I can stop it, and my hands slowly relax. I put them in my pockets, holding the small weapon tightly just in case.

“Maybe yours. Not mine.’’

“You loved me,’’ Wyatt grits out, stepping toward me yet again. Rose’s hand sneaks around my forearm, gripping it tightly. She’s not scared — she’s angry. I don’t look at her; I can’t afford to take my eyes off him. If he’s anything, he’s unpredictable, and I’m not giving him any advantages here.

“Loved you? Yes. I did. The first few months of our relationship were great. But you never loved me, did you, Wyatt? Your goal was always to just use me. You just didn’t think I’d tell anyone, did you? You thought I’d lie down and take all of the abuse and let you win.’’

The smirk disappears from his face, and the monster of my nightmares appears. This is exactly like the nightmares I’ve been having. His eyes are widened in rage, his lips curled into a snarl as he breathes heavily. He’s one moment from snapping.

Instead of letting the spark of fear consume me, I step forward, determined to face my greatest fear, the biggest monster of my mind.

“Let me be frank, Wyatt,’’ I chuckle lowly. “I was naive. I thought I knew what love was, and at some point, I thought I deserved your treatment. I thought that was what love was supposed to feel like, but it wasn’t. And you know that. You know that you never loved me, and that a sick, twisted motherfucker like you isn’t capable of loving anyone but yourself.’’

“You know that I love you—’’

I cut him off before he can spew more bullshit. I’m not sure where the words are coming from, but I let my tongue take over. Perhaps I’ve been waiting for a long time to say it, or perhaps it’s all in the spur of the moment. However, seeing Wyatt falter just makes me want to go on more.

“Love? You wouldn’t know what love is if it hit you in the face. That’s why your mother left you, Wyatt. Even she could tell that you’re unworthy of love, that you’re a pathetic excuse of a man. I’ll bet that she’s embarrassed to have given birth to you. I’ll bet she wishes she never had you. You ruined her life, and then you tried ruining mine. And at a certain point in time, you had ruined it. Not anymore, motherfucker. You no longer have any control over me. You no longer scare me. If anything, you should be scared of me.’’

Seeing him angry is something I’m used to, but this? This goes above anything I’ve ever witnessed. His body shakes from the immense amount of rage, his eyes wide and bloodshot. Wyatt raises his hand, and it connects with my cheek. The impact creates a loud sound, echoing in the room. My head is sent flying to the side as I lift my fingers to touch the spot where he hit me.

Then, a deep, throaty laugh comes from me. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard from me, and for a moment, the anger seems to take the backseat, and a flicker of genuine fear appears on his face.

Gotcha, motherfucker.