Chapter 22
ROSALIE
Rrrring!
Rrrring!
My eyes flew open, and I threw off the sheets. Ugh, that sound. What was it? It was so loud. So annoying.
With a heavy sigh that escaped as a woosh through my lips, I walked toward the dimly lit living room with my arms crossed over my chest. My silk pajama set didn’t offer much warmth outside of a blanket.
My steps were slow and hesitant, each one echoing on the hardwood floor. My foot snagged on Duke’s favorite dinosaur—the one with the floppy purple spikes. I muttered an insult to the toy that was missing half its leg.
Strange. Duke usually followed me no matter what, but I didn’t even remember him being on the bed with me when I sprang out of it.
Over the stove, the digital clock on the microwave glowed green. Its harsh, blinking numbers screamed 4 a.m. in the dimly lit kitchen.
Rrrring!
I followed the sound. It was the burner phone. I rushed to pick it up.
“Hello?”
“Rose, fuck, finally!” Sean’s voice shattered the ringing, his tone urgent and laced with a barely controlled panic. “I need you to put together your things and pack a bag.”
A prickle of uncertainty crawled up my spine. “What’s going on?”
Something wasn’t right.
The phone crackled. “Remy’s system was months behind. So was Lucas’s. Your father wants you in Chicago—now.”
“What?” That was all I could say. I was starting to panic.
“I-I think someone made changes to the system. Listen. I’ll be there to pick you up in twenty minutes. Lucas might be there sooner. Do not open the door unless you hear one of our voices on the other side.”
“If the system was months behind, that means—”
“Max was released months ago.” Sean cut me off.
My stomach twisted. I think I had to throw up.
Was that really him I saw the other day?
I had a bad feeling—one I didn’t know how to swallow, like a bitter pill lodged in my throat. That inexplicable feeling of being . . . watched. No matter where I turned, it clung to me like an obsessive shadow, refusing to release its deathly grip.
My fingers trembled, inching to reach for the nearest light switch, but fear rooted me in place. I stood paralyzed, terrified to move. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but something was stronger.
I could feel him.
“Rose?” Sean’s voice was more demanding than usual. He sounded scared for me.
My heart dropped. It sank deep in my chest like a stone thrown into a lake. I was rooted to the spot. Every fiber of my being, every natural instinct I had, screamed at me to turn, to run, to do anything but stand frozen, but the room seemed to hold its breath.
“Hang up the phone, Rosalie.”
My gaze shot up at the realization.
Max was here.
Right behind me.
The deep sound of his voice sent shivers down my skin. Everything sounded smooth on his tongue. It always had.
We were merely a foot apart, the space between us threatening to consume me entirely. I wanted it to. I couldn’t handle not knowing what would happen to me.
The thought of becoming another one of his victims flicked briefly across my mind, yet even the threat wasn’t enough to coax a sliver of my courage. I didn’t think I had anything of the sort. In the grand scheme of things, what difference did it make? I was being thrown to the wolves regardless.
Turn around.
My body refused to obey. I was scared to see what lay behind his eyes.
His hand brushed against the small of my back. It felt like a branding iron, searing a message deep into my skin.
“Rose?” Sean’s voice was now booming, but somehow, Max’s was much louder.
I swallowed. “I . . . I have to go.”
I hung up.
Before I could muster the strength to turn, he’d moved in front of me, making me look up.
Panic clawed at my throat, constricting my airways.
His eyes, they burned into mine, holding me captive.
I knew they wouldn’t be as kind as they once were.
Something far worse had replaced his kindness. He was now demanding.
His hair was longer in the back, tamed by a black bandana. He had a rough look to him, and he pulled it off well. He was handsome, but in a dangerous way. He looked exhausted. I had a feeling I knew what had exhausted him. It was me, along with the lies I’d told.
My heart felt as if there were a fire beneath it. Everything burned, and I couldn’t do anything to stop the pain.
He seemed bigger somehow . . . stronger, and that wasn’t a good thing. He’d terrified me enough before. His hands didn’t help matters—they were painted red. Or was that mud? No, it had to be blood. Whose blood? My breath hitched once more. What had he done?
He took a single careful step closer, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet. Instinctively, I took one back.
The pinch in my stomach . . . some called it butterflies, believe it or not, but I’d call it moths, and I didn’t want it.
I. Couldn’t. Breathe.
“Max. Please,” I choked out, my voice raw.
My hands rose, palms open in a desperate attempt to create a barrier. My breath was stuck in my throat.
Then he lifted a finger to his lips, silencing the unspoken question that trembled on my tongue. Gentle shushes escaped his lips as he shook his head slowly. My back pressed harder against the wall. He was close—impossibly close. I could feel his breath.
“Don’t be afraid,” he murmured. “Not yet.”
“Are you going to hurt me?” I managed to force the words past the lump of terror lodged in my throat. My voice came out a broken whisper. I braced for his answer, the silence screaming louder than words. He seemed shocked I’d even think something like that.
Who could blame me? I’d heard the whispers and the rumors about what he was capable of.
Monstrous things. All of them.
“No.”
Then what was he going to do to me?
“What do you want?” I challenged.
I was about to have a panic attack. I could feel it brewing in my chest.
Max looked down, disappointment written across his face. He was upset with me—furious, even—but beneath his anger, there was a hint of sadness hidden in the divot of his brow and a subtle wrinkle in the corners of his eyes that betrayed more than his anger ever could.
He lifted the bottom of my tank top with a finger and then trailed his thumb up the side of my body before slowly letting his hand fall to his side. “I want you to do exactly what Sean said and pack a bag.”
I didn’t move—not even an inch.
Max glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry, I made that sound like an option.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said. Did I even stand a chance against a man like him?
His jaw flexed so tightly the muscles stood out harshly in his face. It was a silent warning. He shuffled his feet slightly before planting them firmly on the ground. “And who made you the boss?”
“Max,” I began to plead, unsure of what else to say. The feeling in my throat—the harsh thumping—I couldn’t handle it. I didn’t even know what I was pleading for. Mercy? Time? A quick death?
“I like it when you say my name,” he said, his voice devoid of any emotion, “but I didn’t make you the boss, baby.”
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. “Please, I—” I choked out, my voice raw with fear.
Lying to Max was one of the biggest mistakes anyone could make, and my entire family had made it. I had a feeling I was dead either way, and it would be Max Romano who killed me. So I wanted him to make this quick for me.
“Don’t play innocent with me, Rosalie,” he said, his voice a mere murmur. “We both know the game. You call the shots, while I . . .” He trailed off, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. “While I clean up the messes you make, yeah?”
The sting of his words sent a spark of anger that battled the fear burning in my gut. “You made this mess on your own,” I argued. “Why drag this out, huh? Just get it over with. Kill me here.”
A hollow part of me almost hoped he would. But what about my family? Had he gone for them first? I was sure my father was top of his list.
Suddenly, I began to feel a cold breeze against my face. Was I sweating? It was hot in here, wasn’t it? It felt like my heart was in my throat.
Then a sharp rapping echoed through the apartment. The confidence I’d had just a moment ago vanished almost as quickly as it had arrived.
“Rose?” a deep voice, laced with concern, murmured on the other side of the door. “It’s Lucas.”
Oh god.
Max’s gaze zeroed in on the door and then swept the length of my body, from head to toe. The expression on his face told me enough.
He couldn’t believe me, and neither could I at this point.
My eyes widened, and I bit down on my cheek. My heart hammered against my rib cage the second he glanced down at the ring on my finger.
“Rose?” Lucas asked once more.
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Max remained perfectly still, his eyes narrowed but unreadable. I knew exactly what he’d do, and I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him either.
Lucas didn’t deserve death.
Max exhaled—a sharp, angry breath that ripped through the room. “I thought I made myself clear,” he said, gesturing to the door, “but let me remind you.”
“Don’t,” I warned firmly.
Lucas opened the door. He stepped through.
Pop!
Not a moment later, Lucas’s eyes locked on mine, and his mouth fell open.
I could hear the pounding of my heart in my chest, the blood rushing through my veins.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
A sound sliced through the air like a blade—a zipping noise that seemed to pass right by my ear.
Max had shot Lucas in the center of his forehead, as if he’d taken aim before Lucas walked in.
His body dropped to the floor like a discarded rag.
The sickening thud echoed through the room, accompanied by the metallic tang of blood that filled my nostrils.
Thick, red liquid oozed from his skull, forming a gross pool beneath him.
My eyes watered, and my mouth dropped open in shock, pure horror, as I took in the morbid scene before me. Terror gripped my throat like a vise, sending me speechless as I stood rooted to the spot. Again.
“I do not share,” Max finished.