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TALLIE

T allie,

I don’t know how to start this because nothing I say will make this hurt any less. You’re gone, and everything feels wrong. I keep thinking I’ll turn a corner and see you standing there, smiling at me. But you’re not here. And every damn part of me misses you.

I don’t care what your father says. I don’t care what plans he’s made for you. None of that changes a damn thing. I love you, and I’ll wait for you. I don’t care how long it takes.

One day, we’ll find our way back to one another, and it’ll be just like we always talked about. We’ll have the little house in the country, far away from all this bullshit. We’ll have those goats you wanted and baby cows. We’ll have that porch with the swing. We’ll have it all. I don’t care how long it takes to get there. That’s our future, Tallie. Ours.

They can’t take that from us.

So, you do what you have to do, and I’ll be here when you finally get to come home.

Forever yours,

Holt

I read the first letter over and over, and each time, I cried a little harder. I moved to the next letter, and it broke my heart a little more. I hated seeing that Holt was suffering like I’d suffered. I’d always hoped that he’d been able to move on and put what happened behind him. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. Tears were still falling as I opened the next letter and read:

Tallie,

It’s late. I’ve tried to sleep, but every time I close my eyes, all I see is you.

I try to picture where you are and what you’re doing. I imagine you’re in some studio, and your hands are covered in clay. Your brows are furrowed like they always do when you’re making something out of nothing. The sun is streaming through the window and makes your long, red hair shimmer like fire. I wish I could be there. Watching you the way I used to. I would take you in and memorize every freckle on the bridge of your nose.

But I’m stuck here. Half a world away, surrounded by sand and steel, and even with the sun blaring down on me, nothing ever feels warm. It doesn’t help that the guys are restless. We all know something is coming. We can feel it in our bones, but all we can do is wait for it.

I tell myself it’s only temporary, and one day, I’ll see your beautiful face again. I’ll get to touch you. Hear your voice. Hold you like I should have every damn day before you were taken from me.

But on nights like these, it’s hard to hold onto the hope. I fear I lost you the second you got on that damn plane, and I’ve just been lying to myself ever since.

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. Hell, I don’t even know if you’ll ever see it. But if you do, if you’re out there thinking of me even half as much as I think of you, then remember the love we had and the promises we made.

Because I swear to you, Tallie, no matter how much time passes, I’ll be here waiting.

Always,

Holt

Each letter was more heart-wrenching than the last. I couldn’t take it. After the fourth one, I had to take a break and go into the bathroom to wash my face and try to collect myself. Once I could actually breathe, I went back to the bed and picked up the last envelope. I just sat there and stared at it for a moment. I knew it was going to be bad, and I tried to brace myself as I tore it open.

Tallie,

I don’t even know why I’m writing this.

Maybe it’s just habit. Maybe it’s the last piece of you I can still hold onto. But the truth is, I don’t even know if you’re reading these letters. I don’t know if you ever got the first letter or any of the ones that followed.

And I guess that’s what’s getting to me the most. The not knowing.

I’ve told myself a thousand times that there was still a chance, but I’m not so sure anymore. It’s been so long, Tallie. You haven’t written me back. You haven’t taken my calls or responded to my emails. I can’t help but wonder if you’ve gotten these letters and just don’t give a damn anymore. Maybe you’ve moved on, and I’m a jerk for holding on to the past.

I think this will be my last letter. Not because I don’t love you, because I do. I don’t think I’ll ever stop, but I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t keep holding out for something that might never come.

So, this is it. I won’t write again. But if you ever decide to come back and look for me, you won’t have to search far. I’ll still be here. I’ll still be waiting.

Holt

It broke my heart to think that Holt had been half a world away, missing me, thinking of me, and hoping for something I thought had been lost forever.

I could almost picture him sitting in his military fatigues in some foreign place that was under fire and trying to hold onto the future we’d always talked about. I could feel his loneliness, his desperation, his hope. God, he still had hope, even when I had none.

I was sobbing as I ran my fingers over his name at the bottom of the page. I’d thought he’d moved on. I thought he’d forgotten about me and that time had erased whatever we had. But I was wrong.

I was wrong about everything.

He had been waiting for me, and he was out there waiting once again. I was such an idiot. I should’ve never gone to the house. I should’ve done exactly like we talked about and gone straight back to his place. My impatience had landed me in this nightmare, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get out.

I wiped the tears from my face and walked over to the window. I eased the curtain back and was surprised to find that Sergei’s house was in the middle of a beautiful subdivision with houses the size of castles and yards that had been landscaped to the hilt. Everything around—the houses, the cars, the boats—screamed money. Everything except my old, beat-up Pathfinder that sat in the driveway.

I was right. They had gone to the house. I’m sure they cleared the place of any evidence of wrongdoing. They certainly had the means to do so. They clearly had the means to do whatever they wanted.

My chest tightened as I thought about Ford. I could almost feel him worrying over where I was. He was a tough kid and tried to put on a brave front, but he was too smart not to realize something was wrong, especially after everything that happened with my father. I’d promised him I’d be back by lunch. And now, it was dark.

I pressed my fingers against the glass, and I wished there was some way I could reach through it and escape. But then, I thought about Viktor and his threat of putting a bullet in my pretty little head. Needless to say, it was enough to make me give up on the idea of trying to get out of here on my own.

I dropped my head into my hands and took a few cleansing breaths, hoping it would help settle my nerves. I actually thought it was helping until I heard a knock at the door.

I turned just as it creaked open, and a man stepped inside.

He was dressed in a crisp, white button-down and black slacks, and he had the same dark hair and square jaw as Viktor and Sergei, making me wonder if they might be related. But there was something different about him. He seemed colder, more intense, and the dark tattoos along his throat and hands only added to his menacing presence.

He didn’t speak. He just stared.

Waiting.

Almost daring.

Then, he stepped into the room, slow and deliberate, and his eyes remained trained on me and not in a good way. I swallowed hard, hoping it would ease the knot in my throat.

I stayed perfectly still and watched as he crossed the room. It wasn’t until he turned slightly that I noticed that he had a tray of food in his hands.

He walked over to the dresser and set it down without a sound. I glanced over at it and saw that there was a plate of roasted chicken, greens beans, potatoes, and a glass of water. I hadn’t eaten all day, and it smelled amazing, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

He motioned his hand towards the tray as he told me, “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“Hmmm.” His eyes skirted over me, and a slight smile slipped across his lips as he said, “Viktor said you know Maggie’s.”

“I do.”

“Best burger in the States.”

“Yeah, they weren’t half bad, but their French toast was hard to beat.”

“You ever checked out DUMBO?”

DUMBO was the natives' terminology of Down Under the Manhattan Bridge Overpass. It was an area filled with shops, bookstores, and art galleries. It was quite trendy, and this guy looked anything but trendy. “You know about that area?”

“Yeah, my mother was a big fan of the place.” He didn’t smile, but I could hear the amusement in his voice as he said, “I was the only one she could get to go with her.”

“My son wasn’t a big fan, but I loved it there. Bushwick, too.”

“Yes. They have some impressive murals in that area.”

“You into art?”

“You could say that.” He pushed back his sleeve, revealing the intricate tattoos that marked his skin. “It’s not for everyone, but it tells a story that only a few will ever truly understand.”

“Art isn’t always just about beauty.” I gave him a half smile. “Sometimes, it’s about remembering.”

He might’ve been a bit more intense than Sergei or Viktor, but I felt I would actually kind of like him—if he wasn’t holding me captive. That made it difficult for me to see him as anything but a villain. But he made me question that even more when he asked, “So, you’re with one of the Fury brothers?”

“I am.”

“I hear they’re good men. Their president has made a name for himself and his club.”

“Sergei didn’t seem to agree.”

“My brother needs reminding of where he came from.”

“Well, feel free to remind him.”

“I certainly will.” He started for the door as he said, “I’m Nikolai. If you need anything, just let me know.”

“Thank you, Nikolai.”

Before he walked out, he motioned his head toward the tray of food. “Eat. At the very least, hydrate. We don’t want that boyfriend of yours thinking we didn’t take good care of you.”

I nodded but stayed put as I watched him close the door behind him. Seconds later, the lock clicked, and I found myself alone once again. I walked over and gave the tray a quick once over. The food looked fine, so I picked up the tray and carried it over to the bed. I sat down and took a bite of bread. It didn’t have a funny taste or smell, so I went for it.

I kept eating and ended up finishing most of the plate.

It was really good, like fancy restaurant kind of good, and I was too stuffed to take another bite. I was about to carry the tray back over to the table when a strange warmth spread through my body. My head felt heavy, and my thoughts became cloudy. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t cooperate.

The room started spinning, and panic set in.

I tried to fight it, but a thick fog settled over me, dragging me under. I closed my eyes, and darkness swallowed me whole.