38
Bianca
A drenaline floods my veins as soon as Ryder leaves with Koby in tow. I sit on the bed, my heart fluttering like a caged pigeon. Rationally, I know I’m safe here.
There are two men outside. Arthur’s on his way. No one without a code can enter... but no matter how much I rationalize, the nagging fear won’t subside.
Sleep isn’t an option. The empty apartment feels too quiet, too big. The bedroom door stands ajar, and the faint hum of the refrigerator is the only sound I can make out aside from my shallow breaths.
My hands tremble as I grab a pair of leggings and a sweater from the closet. Arthur will be here soon. No way am I parading around him in a thin night dress. I know he doesn’t give a shit, but I have a feeling Ryder would.
I pull on the clothes, the cable-knit sweater failing to insulate me from the chill creeping up my spine. The thought of Vaughn being in Columbus, so close, makes my skin break out in hives.
I shake my head, banishing the dark scenarios threatening to invade my thoughts. I’m fine. I’m safe. Ryder will handle Vaughn so he won’t bother me again.
Yes. I’m fine .
A small smile curls my lips, the tone of that word in my head mimicking Ryder’s.
Grabbing a glass from the cabinet, I pour myself some water and head into the living room. In the still quiet, my head screams, but before I can grab the tablet that controls Ryder’s smart apartment to put on some music, I hear the faint, unmistakable beep-beep-beep-beep of the PIN pad by the front door.
Ryder said Arthur wouldn’t be long, but it’s not even been three minutes since he left. I freeze. My heartrate accelerates as the door slides open and... Vaughn .
My knees damn near fold under me. Fear grips my heart, squeezing it like a sponge. I’m glued to the spot, the glass in my hand slipping out and smashing against the wooden floor.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Vaughn coos like we’re old friends.
He wheels himself inside, slowly shutting the door behind him. The lock clicking into place sends my pulse into overdrive.
“I missed you,” he adds, taking off his baseball cap.
He looks worse than he did last time I saw him. I didn’t get a good look in that car, but compared to the man I was on the run with, this version of him is unsettling. He looks... smaller somehow, skin pallid and sickly, cheeks sunken like he hasn’t eaten in days.
The panic I’ve been suppressing thus far explodes behind my ribs when I glimpse the gun in his hand.
The gun aimed at me .
My stomach flips, bile climbing my throat. “How—” My voice cracks. “How did you get in?”
“I watched Koby putting the code in. I was here earlier. You looked phenomenal in that green dress, sweetheart.”
God, how long has he been watching me? How long has he been lurking in the shadows, undetected?
“You’re supposed to be at the hotel,” I whisper.
“I was,” he says with a shrug. “Briefly. I made sure Ryder’s software picked me up outside, made sure he’d see me check in. They’re predictable, sweetheart. I knew he’d take the bait. It was almost too easy to draw them out.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “There’s security outside,” I say, checking the clock.
Arthur will be here soon. I just need to stall until he bursts through the door.
Vaughn chuckles, the sound humorless, haunted. “Everyone has a price, Bianca. I approached the concierge in a bar a few days ago. He was more than happy to let me in through the private entrance and his price was far less than expected.”
He raises the gun higher, finger grazing the trigger. “You’re wasting our time, sweetheart. We don’t have much. Grab the essentials. We’re leaving. I’m taking you home.”
The tears I’ve been holding back spill over, my vision blurring. The two men outside have no idea Vaughn’s here.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His expression softens. For a moment, I see the man I thought I could trust. The man who helped me when I had no one else. But that man is gone, replaced by this unhinged, paranoid ghost of a person.
Desperate. Delusional. Dangerous.
“Don’t cry,” he whispers. “I won’t ever hurt you. I want to keep you safe. Away from those criminals. I know how quickly they can brainwash an innocent girl like you.”
“I’m not brainwashed! You’re sick, Vaughn, you need help. You need therapy. Please, I—”
The safety on his gun clicks, rendering me speechless. My stomach ties into knots, cold sweat coating my back.
“You don’t know what’s right anymore. I know it’s not your fault. You’ve always been such a good girl. It’s them that cause trouble. They poisoned you the same way they poisoned my Hailey. I can’t save her, but I can save you.”
I shake my head, backing away from him step by step until my back hits a wall. “I’m not poisoned. I don’t need saving. I left because you crossed a line. You—”
“Enough!” He slams his hand on the armrest of his wheelchair, making me jump. He points the gun higher, directly at my head. “Don’t make me raise my voice again. Go grab your things or you’ll leave as you stand.”
I swallow hard, swatting my tears away. How long has it been? Five minutes? Ten? How much longer?
“You look awful,” I choke out to distract him. “When’s the last time you slept? Ate? What happened to you?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except getting you away from here. They’ll get you killed, Bianca. I’m the only one who can protect you.”
“You don’t look like you can even protect yourself.”
“Stop. Just stop.” His expression darkens, and he wheels closer, the gun glistening under the lights. “I didn’t come here to argue. You’re coming home with me. We’ll leave this city, disappear somewhere safe.”
“And then what?” I ask, my voice rising. “You’ll lock me in some room? Pretend I’m your wife? She’s dead!”
He pulls the trigger.
The bullet hits the wall inches away from my head. My heart isn’t far off bursting out of my chest, eyes wide, panic gripping my throat so tight I can’t even scream.
His hand trembles as he lowers the smoking gun. He’s panting, not far off hyperventilating, yet his voice is eerily calm. “You don’t understand, but you will.”
I can’t move. My ears ring, my lungs work overtime, every breath painful while panic cinches my chest. Vaughn gets closer, his free hand darting out to catch my wrist.
“Shh, calm down,” he whispers. The wild, unhinged look in his eyes doesn’t help me relax, no matter how soothing his words. “Just do what I say and you’ll be safe soon.”
“I won’t come with you. You’re sick, Charles. You need help. Please... I’m not your wife. I can’t replace her.”
The faint sound of the elevator dings outside. My heart leaps into my throat and Vaughn’s head snaps toward the door.
“No,” he mutters. “They’re back too fast. Fuck.” He yanks me toward him, hard. Much harder than he should be able to, given his fragile state.
I stumble straight into his lap. Before I can jump off him, he maneuvers my back over his chest, his thin arms surprisingly strong as he wraps one around my middle.
“Don’t fight me.” The cold barrel of the gun digs under my chin, surging a new wave of fear through me.
I whimper, thrashing against his tightening grip.
“Be quiet.”
A knock rattles the door. “Bianca? It’s Arthur.”
I open my mouth but Vaughn’s hand clamps over it, muffling the scream.
Arthur pounds the door harder. “Bianca! Open up.”
Vaughn’s lips ghost the shell of my ear. “Not a sound.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. Arthur’s done knocking, his voice buzzing just outside the door. I can’t make out the words, just the low hum of conversation. Ten seconds later the beep-beep-beep-beep of the PIN being entered breaches the apartment. And this time it floods me with relief.
Vaughn’s grip shifts, pulling me closer, the gun crushing my chin as the door swings open. Arthur steps inside, his phone to his ear, a gun in his hand.
He freezes mid-step, his eyes locking onto me in Vaughn’s lap, trembling, crying, trapped.
“Fuck,” he snaps. “Ryder, he’s here.”
“Hang up the call,” Vaughn demands. “Hang it up, or I’ll blow her head off.”
Arthur’s jaw tightens, his gaze flicking between us as he lowers the phone. “Let her go,” he says, his gun steady despite the fury in his eyes. “You don’t want to do this.”
“She doesn’t belong here,” Vaughn spits, every word laced with venom. “She’s not safe here.”
“You’re the one holding a gun to her head.”
“Please, Vaughn,” I beg, my voice a whisper. “You won’t get out of this alive unless you let me go.”
“Shh, sweetheart. Don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon.” His hand shakes, the barrel of the gun grazing my jawline as he adjusts his grip. “You’re mine to protect.”
“She’s not yours,” Arthur snaps, his finger twitching over the trigger. “Let her go.”
“No. I’m getting her out of here. Don’t follow. If you try, I’ll put a bullet in her head.”
“Not happening,” Arthur snaps, shoving the phone into his pocket, squinting down the gun’s sights for a target, but finding no safe shot through the human shield Vaughn’s made me into.
“You think I won’t do it?” Vaughn snaps. “She doesn’t belong here. She belongs with me! Dead or alive.”
“Vaughn,” I whisper, choking on my sobs, pulse roaring louder in my ears. “Please.”
My breaths come shallow and fast, each one burning my chest. I can’t stop shaking no matter how hard I force my mind to stay calm. Ryder’s coming. He must be close. He won’t let Vaughn hurt me. He promised.
“Let her go,” Arthur seethes. “You’re not getting out of here with her, and you won’t hurt her. Let. Her. Go .”
“She’s all I have left! Move out of the way.”
Arthur stands his ground, the tension in the air like a sparking electrical cable, every second stretching unbearably. “You’ll have a bullet in your head as soon as you turn your back on me.”
My heart skips, a jolt of panic slicing through me.
Vaughn scoffs, digging the gun harder under my chin in a demonstration. “You wouldn’t dare. Ever heard of muscle spasm? Shoot me and my finger will pull the trigger.”
The room feels like it’s spinning. I can’t stop these sobs from racking my chest. Where is Ryder?
Vaughn wheels us toward the door, the wheelchair’s tires scraping my legs.
“Everything will be fine,” Arthur says, his face blurring behind my tears. “You’ll be okay.”
My mind races. Ryder should be here by now. Arthur wouldn’t let Vaughn take me, would he?
A sob catches in my throat as Vaughn wheels us closer to the door. I dig my fingers into the armrests, nails bending against the plastic. My chest clenches when footsteps echo down the long corridor behind Arthur’s back.
They’re here.
“Vaughn!” Ryder’s voice thunders into the apartment, stopping Vaughn in his tracks.
Arthur steps aside, revealing four men marching with purpose, guns drawn, expressions lethal. The weight of Ryder’s wrath rolls over me like a wave. It brings relief , fills me with hope I haven’t felt since Vaughn arrived.
I sag against Vaughn’s hold
Arthur shifts again, forming up behind Ryder and Carter as they filter into the apartment. Broadway and Koby stay back, guns drawn.
Ryder’s eyes find mine, his fury melting into something softer, something grounding. “Are you hurt, baby?”
“Don’t talk to her!” Vaughn snaps.
“Please,” I whisper. “It’s over, Charles. Let me go. Think about Hailey. What will she say when she finds out? She doesn’t want you dead. You don’t have to do this.”
He stiffens behind me, his breath hitching. For a moment, his grip loosens like I’ve struck a chord, but the moment passes faster than I can blink. Whatever shred of humanity he had left is gone, replaced by this broken, delusional shell.
“I don’t have a daughter anymore.”
“That’s one thing we fucking agree on,” Carter snaps.
“You swallowed her whole. She chose a monster instead of her father.” Vaughn lowers his voice, his mouth by my ear. “You’re all I have left, sweetheart. You’re all I care about.”
“I hate you. I hate what you’ve done. What you’ve become. You think you can hold me against my will? How long before I run again?! I’m not your wife! I don’t love you. I—”
“Don’t!” Vaughn snaps. “Don’t tell me you love him .”
“But I do!” I yell, tears spilling over again.
The words hit Vaughn like a physical blow. His arm drops, the gun shaking so violently I think it’ll go off. “No,” he whispers. “You don’t, sweetheart, he brainwashed you, he—”
“He didn’t do anything. You did. You hurt me. You scared me. You’re not well. Please, let me go. We’ll get you some help. I promise. You’ll get better.”
“No, no, no,” he mutters.
“Drop the gun, Vaughn,” Carter orders. “Drop it and maybe we can fix whatever’s wrong with your head.”
“ You ... you took everything from me.” His despair twists into something darker, something final. “ Everything .” He laughs—a broken, guttural sound—and lifts the gun from my chin.
I don’t realize where he’s aiming until the deafening crack of the gunshot pierces my ears and blood spatters my head, neck, the side of my face...
Vaughn slumps forward, lifeless, limp, as the gun clatters to the floor.
Ryder’s beside me in an instant, pulling me into his arms and shielding me from the sight. I’m shaking again, struggling to fill my lungs with air.
“He just... he... he’s—”
“Dead. He’s dead, baby, but you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
My legs give out. If not for Ryder holding me upright, I’d pool at his feet. I bury my face in his chest, sobbing as his arms wrap around me like a shield. The chaos around us fades, the world narrowing to his steady heartbeat beneath my forehead.
“You’re safe,” he whispers, lips brushing my hair. “Fuck, I was so fucking scared. I love you, baby. You’re safe. I’m here. I’ll take care of you.”