Page 6 of Trapped With You

“Before I get going, I need to ask…Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His eyes searched mine. “There’s something different about you for quite some time. I’d like to say it’s the stress from all the jobs we’ve been doing for Dad lately, but I have a feeling it has something to do with Ella.”

I stiffened.

He didn’t have to say it out loud. We both knew the truth.

I never got over my ex-girlfriend.

I was a fully functioning wreck without her.

When I remained silent, Josh grimaced. “Sorry. I don’t mean to overstep by assuming. I’m just worried about you.”

I forced a smile. “I’m fine, Josh. I just have a lot on my mind. Freshman year of university and midterms are already kickingmy ass.”

Josh knew I was bullshitting. “Okay, if you say so.” He clapped my shoulder in a brotherly gesture. “Just remember I’m always here for you, all right?”

I truly hit the jackpot when I got adopted by the Remingtons. I gained great parents, a stable home, and an amazing brother who was nothing but loyal and supportive. Two things I always reciprocated.

Besides both being nineteen, Josh and I were identical in many ways. Dark hair, signature Remington chiseled jawline, tall heights, and athletic builds. When we were high schoolers, Josh had attended Westwood High for its exceptional football program, while I attended St. Victoria—located closer to our home in South Side—for its renowned hockey team. Since I played the sport until I was fifteen, Uncle Vance insisted I get back into it when I started living with them.

But that’s where our similarities ended.

Josh hadn’t been completely tarnished by the violence of our world. I, on the other hand, entered this world having already tasted its flavour. Life had forced me to grow up faster and tougher from a young age.

If there’s one language I was well-accustomed to, it was brutality.

I’d been on the receiving end and I knew how to fucking dish it.

Which made me a perfect soldier in Vance Remington’s eyes.

My uncle made it clear that our destiny was tied with being the successors of the Remington criminal empire. A role that Josh and me both embraced wholeheartedly.

“Thanks, J,” I told him. “I appreciate it.”

Josh left shortly afterwards.

I rummaged through my drawers for my wallet. I kept my space clean, but I wasn’t always the tidiest. Sometimes Imisplaced my belongings. Cursing, I opened each one until I got to the bottom drawer.

An old baseball bat lay within, one I thought I effectively hid months ago.

The sight of it, with the lettersE + Ccarved on the surface, sent a wave of pain through my chest. Longing. It burned my insides like acid.

I took a deep, shaky inhale, closing my eyes.

Everything in my space was a constant reminder of her.

The baseball bat. The promise ring around my neck. The tats on my body. The imprint she left on me.

In this lifetime, I was cursed with loving her and only her.

Once I found my wallet, I grabbed my keys, leather jacket, riding helmet, and my De la Croix gun before I took the elevator down to the underground garage, where my Ducati was parked.

Uncle Vance would not allow his little princes to leave his kingdom without security or weapons. Since I wasn’t exactly a stickler for rules, I omitted the former. But I’d be plain stupid to leave without a gun, especially when Montardor was brimming with filthy rats who had a vendetta against my family.

It was only when I got on my motorcycle and blazed out of the premise, that the longing quickly morphed into simmering excitement at the prospect of seeing the object of my affection once more.