Epilogue - 8 years later…
Axel
“This is fucking pointless!”
I pace like a caged animal, the frustration crawling under my skin, tightening my fists.
“Relax, man. We’ll find her,” Nik says calmly, like we haven’t hit nothing but dead ends.
“You don’t know that!” My voice breaks on the edge of something I don’t want to name. “She’s a fucking ghost, Nik. Eight years. Eight fucking years. And still nothing. How do we even know she’s still alive?”
“She is,” he says with quiet certainty. “Ben would’ve told us if something had happened to her.”
“And you think he’d know for sure?”
“You think he wouldn’t?” Nik meets my eyes. “You really believe he’s not keeping tabs on her? Come on, Ax.”
I stop pacing, breathing hard. He’s right. Ben might claim he doesn’t know where Lina is, but I don’t believe it. He’s ex-FBI. He still has friends in high places. If she was gone, we’d know.
After Mom died, I shut down. Nik stuck around.
Johnny imploded. But Lina… Lina vanished.
And by the time I woke up from my grief, she was already a memory slipping through our fingers.
I see her everywhere… in strangers, in dreams. Golden hair.
Blue eyes. That laugh. The way she said my name like it meant something.
I’ve tried to move on. Hell, we all have.
But how do you move on from the person who rewired your soul?
Nik comes up behind me and takes my hand, grounding me with his touch. His other hand slides to the back of my neck, guiding me forward until our lips meet. It’s a kiss full of everything unsaid. Hope. Fear. Need. My knees go weak, and my cock goes hard. Some things never change.
“We’ll find her,” he whispers against my lips. “And we’ll bring her home.”
When he pulls back, my eyes fall to the black-and-blue leather bracelet still circling his wrist. It’s the same one she gave him all those years ago. He never takes it off.
I wonder if she ever thinks of us. If she misses us the way we miss her. Sometimes I worry… maybe we’ll find her and she doesn’t want to be found. Maybe she’s built a whole new life. Maybe we were just a chapter she’s already closed.
But one thing’s for sure, if we do find her... no, when we find her… I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s tied to us so tight that she can never leave. I’ll make sure we’re burrowed so deep into her skin that she doesn’t know who she is without us. I’ll never let her go again.
∞∞∞
Aro
“Ready, baby?”
“Yeah. Give me a minute.”
I lower myself into the velvet burgundy chair and buckle the delicate ankle strap on my Louboutin.
Funny how life can change. Eight years ago, I was a straight-A student with early acceptance to half a dozen colleges. Now? I’m the high school graduate girlfriend of a major Atlanta drug boss.
It’s not as bad as it sounds. Really.
Marcus buys me anything I want. Designer clothes, luxury vacations, diamonds just because it’s Tuesday.
His guys keep watch for Joe in exchange for me playing arm candy.
I smile. I fuck. I show up on his arm looking like sin in stilettos.
That’s the deal. It’s transactional. It’s survival. It’s... easy.
“Aro, let’s go.” Marcus, better known as Candy Man to his clients, snaps from the living room. His impatient tone makes me roll my eyes.
Once upon a time, I was Carolina “Lina” Harrington.
Now? I’m Caroline Collins. Aro, for short.
A new name, a new past, and a city big enough to get lost in.
I left behind a lot, including three hearts I never meant to break.
But whispers from the underground say three men are scouring the South for the girl they still call theirs.
But they’ll never find me. I’ve made sure of it.
Because if they can find me… he can, too.
“Aro.”
Sean, my bodyguard, steps into the suite and shuts the door behind him.
“He’s getting impatient.”
“He’s always impatient,” I mutter.
Marcus is immature, entitled, and doesn’t know the first thing about making a woman come. But at least he doesn’t hit me. That’s enough, these days.
I buckle the second heel and rise, smoothing my black leather mini dress over my hips. Turning, I lift my leg onto the chair to adjust the thigh holster strapped high on my skin. One can never be too safe when regularly associating with felons.
Sean’s voice drops low. “Fuck, Aro…”
His eyes trail the line of my thigh, lingering too long.
I arch a brow. I’ve always liked Sean. But I’m not dumb enough to act on it. Cheating on a career criminal with a hair-trigger ego is a good way to end up six feet under.
Maybe in another life, I could afford to fall for a guy like Sean… muscled, loyal, gentle with his eyes. But not this one.
“You’re too good for him,” he says, tone reverent.
I hold his gaze for a beat. I wish I could be the woman he thinks I am. But she disappeared a long time ago. Somewhere between my mother’s last breath and Maryanne’s blood on the floor.
“I’m too good for anyone.”
I glance at myself in the mirror, fixing a curl of dark, chin-length hair. I don’t see Carolina anymore. That girl is dead.
As the wise Blair Waldorf once said: "Have a little faith, and if that doesn’t work, have a lot of mimosas."
Cheers, bitches.