Chapter 23 #2
A part of me—a part I ruthlessly despise—wants to stop pushing and allow her to recover. To shut this down, gather her into my arms, and pretend none of this is happening.
But I can’t afford that luxury. Not with what’s at stake. Not with armed men chasing us all over hell.
I follow her down, the article still extended toward her like a weapon. “You were there. You saw something important enough that people are willing to kill for it fifteen years later.”
She shakes her head, air now coming in short, desperate gasps. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, lift from the newspaper clipping to meet mine. At her raw, wounded gaze, my chest knots uncomfortably. “Were you there too?”
I frown. “No.”
She just needs to remember, to focus.
She sinks onto the sofa, revealing the terrified nine-year-old girl who witnessed horrors most adults couldn’t face.
I found the hammer to smash her soul’s oldest wound, and I used it without hesitation.
And she’s still not talking or giving me what I need.
The silence stretches between us, heavy and charged.
With her lifeless eyes locked in the middle distance, witnessing things I can’t see as she relives memories I can only guess at, she looks like a porcelain doll.
Maybe I broke through too much. Pushed too far.
Her empty expression speaks of damage deeper than I anticipated, the raw, bleeding wounds festering beneath her cheerful exterior now laid bare.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, shattering the silence. When I check the display, a cold weight settles in my stomach.
Roman.
I slip away from Chloe, moving toward the kitchen to accept the call. “Da.”
Roman’s voice is tight with barely controlled fury. “Where the fuck are you?”
“Secured location. North Side.” He’ll know exactly where I am. It’s his safe house, after all.
“And the teacher?”
I glance back at Chloe, who remains motionless on the sofa. “Here. I’m still gathering information.”
“Information?” Roman releases a harsh bark of laughter. “Here’s some for you. The Falcones hit my docks last night. Burned two of my trucks. They’re tearing up this city searching for you and that damn teacher.”
So it was the Falcones after us.
The confirmation should satisfy me but only exacerbates to an already crushing gravity.
“I don’t know what you did,” Roman’s volume rises with every sentence, “but this sideshow has become a war. Find my diamonds. End this. Now!”
The line goes dead before I can respond.
I’m left staring at the phone in my hand.
Sasha was hurt. Others may be wounded or dead. With each passing second, the pressure mounts.
Patience is no longer an option. Not with Roman breathing down my neck and the Falcones burning down Chicago to find us, not with twenty million reasons to keep pushing until I get answers.
I’d love to ask the obvious question. Why now?
The diamonds have been missing for a long time.
But I can hardly ask him that when I’ve received almost zero information beyond the two clues and my instructions.
I turn back to Chloe, studying her with new urgency.
She hasn’t moved or reacted to the phone call at all. She’s trapped somewhere in her own head, in memories of an island and a night that changed everything for both of us, though in vastly different ways.
I cross the room in three long strides, stopping directly in front of her.
She doesn’t acknowledge my presence. Her vacant, distant eyes stay fixed on nothing.
I shove aside the guilt threatening to pulverize my ribs.
Time for a different approach.
“This act. The cheery voice, the twinkly eyes, and the sunshine smiles. It’s why they chose you.” It can’t be the only explanation, but it’s a start.
She trembles.
I crouch in front of her, invading her space. I need to yank her back to the present where she can give me answers.
“You think if you can just hide inside your happy little bubble, the monsters will go away?” I stage a deliberate attack against her core survival mechanism.
The chipper facade that’s kept her sane since she was nine years old.
“That the real world can’t touch you if you think pleasant thoughts? It’s pathetic.”
I check for a flicker of awareness. A twitch. Anything to indicate I’m reaching her. Nothing.
“It’s why they planted the diamonds on you. And it’s going to get you killed. You won’t be smiling with a bullet between your eyes.” I press my index finger into her forehead.
Not even a reflexive blink.
I still haven’t found the trigger that will snap her back to reality, back to me.
“Because you’re weak.”
The word hangs in the air for a heartbeat. Two. Thr—
Her gaze sharpens, pure incandescent rage sparking in her eyes.
One moment, she’s sitting motionless on the sofa. The next, she’s lunging at me with a feral howl. Her body slams into mine with surprising force, knocking me off balance. We crash to the floor, her landing on top of me.
Curled hands claw at my face, my chest, anywhere she can reach.
There’s no technique to her attack, just raw, unbridled emotion she’s bottled up for fifteen years.
Stopping her would be easy. I could flip her onto her back and pin her in seconds.
But I don’t.
I earned this. And she needs the release.
I let her rage. She pounds her fists against my chest, screaming incoherent accusations.
This unfiltered, uncontrolled reaction gives me a peek at the real Chloe breaking through the cheerful veneer. And the real Chloe might finally provide the truth.
Her fist connects with my jaw. The solid hit snaps my head to the side. My teeth cut into the inside of my cheek, drawing blood.
The pain is a clarifying reminder of what’s at stake.
And how far I’m willing to go for her.
“I am not weak!” she shouts, inches from my face. The defiant roar of a tiger. Even as tears stream down her cheeks. “I survived! I survived when grown adults didn’t. I got out of there and survived all on my own!”
Hot pride sizzles in my chest. She’s not weak.
I knew from the beginning that—even in that silly yellow dress—she was more than that sunny kindergarten teacher.
But as her tears fall hot against my skin, and her body quivers with rage, I realize I’ve miscalculated.
Not because I pushed too far, but because I haven’t just unleashed her anger.
I’ve extracted her soul-crushing truth.