Page 55

Veronica

V eronica stands by the window of Shiro’s house again—like she has been doing for three nights since they arrived in the States. The night outside is quiet and calm, the street bathing in the soft glow of the streetlights. Although there are no heavy black cars or shadows moving in the dark, she still can’t shake the feeling that Kael is coming.

“He’s not going to find you.” Shiro’s voice is gentle but firm, breaking through the silence. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. Instead, her fingers tighten around the windowsill, as if that is the only steady ground keeping her from spiraling into panic.

“You’re safe, Vee.” He continues, his step drawing closer, his soft cologne wafting through her nostrils, weaving a sense of comfort into her nerves. “Detectives are involved now. He’s smart enough to know not to come here.”

Shiro and the detectives all seem so sure. Their confidence is almost admirable, if not downright stupid. They’re underestimating Kael. They don’t know him like she knows him. He’s a psychopath who doesn’t answer to laws or yield to authority and humanity. He moves like a ghost, striking when no one expects him to.

This right here is a game. In fact, they have all unknowingly participated in Kael’s game the moment they took her out of his house and he didn’t protest. He wants them to believe he has been cornered, helpless, at a loss, and nowhere to run. He wants them to believe he is so unarmed and has gone into hiding. But little do they know they have all just become a pawn. He’s coming; on the night they all relax and let their guards down. He will creep in like a thief.

But this time…only this time…

Veronica gasps.

She won’t be his target. This time, she won’t be Kael’s target.

Her breath hitches as realization grips her. The horror hits her so hard, she stumbles back from the window, her body trembling.

Kael warned her. Some weeks ago—’ I won’t hurt him, you know. He’s basically like my brother-in-law now . Who knows what I’ll do to him if he tries to take you away from me?’

Shiro has done exactly what Kael warned them of. He had barged into his house with detectives and dragged her away from him.

That night, Shiro signed his death warrant.

“He’s coming.” Her palm cups mouth, shivering. “I need to go. I have—I have to go.”

Her movements are frantic, her gaze unfocused as she turns for the exit.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Shiro reaches for her, his touch grounding her, but not enough to curb the panic surging through her. “He doesn’t know where you are, remember?”

“I know he won’t hurt me,” she cuts in, her voice breaking. “It’s you, Shiro. You broke his number one rule. You took me away from him.”

Shiro exhales sharply, gripping her shoulders. “Look at me,” he urges, his voice controlled. “He isn’t going to touch me. The police know everything now. They’re watching him.”

“You don’t know him.” She tries to pull away but Shiro holds tight. “He doesn’t care about some fucking cops. Just take me back. I’ll tell him I came willingly. If I go back to him, he won’t have a reason to hurt you.”

“You’re scared, understandable.” His voice is calm and insistent. “And that’s okay judging by what he put you through. But running back to him won’t save me or anybody.”

She shakes her head, her vision blurry as a sob presses in her chest. They don’t know Kael. She knows him. She knows what he’s capable of doing. But Shiro and the cops aren’t listening to her.

“Hold on.” He frees one hand from her shoulder, slipping it into the pocket of his sweatpants to fish out his phone. “If you don’t believe me. Hear what detective Smith has to say.”

He dials the number and the detective picks on the third ring. Shiro tells the detective the newest development as Veronica paces around, her teeth biting nervously into her nails.

Shiro turns to Veronica, switching the call to the speaker.

“Veronica?” Detective Smith says, his voice steady and reassuring. “Calm down, okay? You need to rest and take care of yourself. Raidon Volkov hasn’t left Russia. His men haven’t moved. We have been monitoring him.”

See? They know nothing and yet want to be a hero. They don’t even know the villain’s name. It’s Kael. This is fucking Kael Volkov not Raidon. Raidon is gone, hiding, nowhere to be found.

“How can you be so sure, detective?” she whispers.

“We’re watching him,” he reassures. “And he knows it too. He’s powerful, yes. But he’s not reckless enough to make any move. He knows we’re into him.”

She swallows hard. And although the panic doesn’t disappear, it loosens its grip enough for her to breathe properly.

“He won’t touch Shiro, Veronica,” the detective says firmly. “He isn’t gonna hurt you anymore. And you’ll never have to go back to him.”

She releases a gasp of relief, her legs giving out, but Shiro is quick enough to catch her before she hits the floor.

“He’s not coming,” the detective’s voice drifts away as Shiro pulls her trembling body into his arms. “You’re safe.”

And for the first time in 72 hrs, she finally feels like she can breathe.

“Don’t put your life on hold because of me, Shiro,” Veronica whispers as Shiro tucks her into bed later that night.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Why are you so fucking dramatic? I’ve only missed school for three days.”

“Still,” she insists. “I feel like I’m holding you down.” She rolls onto her side, her hand folding under her head as a pillow. “You should go to school tomorrow. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Shiro sighs, running his hand gently through her hair. “Just get some sleep. Your eye bags are making you look like one of those haunted dolls.”

“It better be a hot haunted doll.” She tries to smile, but her lips merely twitch.

“She’s short and she has this really big head like Bratz,” he says, pressing a fist into his mouth to stifle a laugh.

Pulling a hand from beneath her head, she flips him a middle finger. And this time, she actually giggles softly, and it doesn’t make her heart hurt.

“Mom’s watching Gossip Girls without me,” he informs, rising off the bed. “I’m gonna go join her. I’ll be back. Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Sure,” Veronica murmurs, pressing her face into the soft pillow. “Bye.”

She hears receding footsteps as his ugly ass crocs drag against the tiled floor, then the gentle sound as the door latches onto the lock.

Shiro’s mom has been very supportive in a way by not asking questions. Maybe she knows Veronica doesn’t wish to talk about it, or Shiro already gave her the full story so she never asked Veronica what really was going on. But there’s alway sympathy in her kind eyes, her hand resting occasionally on her shoulder, giving her a comforting squeeze.

A heavy sigh slices past Veronica’s lips as her eyes gently crack open. The bed is warm and the sheet has been nicely tucked in. She should just sleep, close her eyes, and surrender. But she can’t. Her mind reels back to him.

Kael.

She hates his gut. He scares her. She’s sure of it. Yet her thoughts betray her.

Kael lingers in the shadows of her mind, his deep and smooth voice like velvet laced in silk echoing in her ears. A brush of whisper against her earlobes. She feels his fingers brushing against her skin, possessive, claiming, stripping her defense.

She loathes his very existence, bitter with the memory of her life that he has turned upside down. So why is her body remembering him so vividly? Why is the ghost of his touch still lingering and sparking something deep in her chest?

Hours drag on and her eyelids begin to grow heavy. The pull of sleep wraps around her, dragging her under.

Then she hears a crash and a sharp cry that cuts off too quickly. Then struggles, furniture scraping against the tile, a dull, sickening thud.

Her breath hitches, every muscle in her body locking as icy fear slithers through her veins.

She shoves away the covers, her body trembling as she swings her feet off the bed. The floor is cold beneath her bare feet, grounding her just enough to keep her from collapsing. Her knees almost buckle as she forces herself toward the door. Every step is slow and hesitant, even the walls themselves seem to be holding their breaths.

The hallway stretches, darker and suffocating than before. Finally, she arrives at the living room, still bathed in the soft glow of the television light. Gossip Girl still plays the echo of laughter, a cruel contrast to the stillness that has settled over the house.

Her eyes widen when she sees a shattered vase and pieces of porcelain scattered on the floor, glinting like jagged teeth.

Her heart pounds violently against her ribs as she moves further in. And then her world comes to a standstill. A strangled scream claws at her throat, but the sounds don’t come, only a gasp, though broken.

There they are, right next to each other; Shiro and his mom. Rose Tanaka’s body lays unnaturally still, eyes empty, blood pooling around her.

Then there’s Shiro too, blood coating his chest, some spilling from his mouth, fingers twitching.

“No.”

The single word that comes out of her mouth as the room blurs, the ground beneath her feet shifting, her body lightweight, and she surrenders to darkness.