Nila
“STOP THE CAR. Please, stop the car.”
The policeman shook his head, gripping the wheel and taking me further away from Jethro. “Sorry, Ms. Weaver. The next place we’ll stop is London.”
The sway of the vehicle sent goosebumps over my skin. Every spin of the tyres thickened my blood with dread.
What will Cut do to him?
How could I leave?
Straining in my seat, I winced. The bruises on my ribcage from CPR, the flaring heat in my throat from drowning, and the headache from confusion all competed with the fisting sensation around my heart.
I tapped the policeman on his shoulder. “Please, this is all a big misunderstanding. Take me back. I want to go back.”
Now. Immediately. Before it’s too late.
“Don’t worry. Just relax. Everything is as it should be,” the officer said.
I just walked away! How could I do that?
“No, it’s not. I don’t have time to explain, but I need you to take me back.” Debts and death and diabolical Hawks didn’t scare me anymore.
Only the thought of what Jethro would face scared me.
I wouldn’t let him suffer alone.
What can you possibly do to help?
I ignored that thought and the panic it brought. I was useless, but I had to try. It was the least I could do. He cared for me. He sent me away and put himself in my place.
Damn him for sending me away!
The officer lost his cordial nature, turning stiff with annoyance.
“Miss, I understand that you’ve lived through a great deal, but the Hawks are not a family to be trifled with.
We’ve acted on the wishes of the media and your family, so don’t say you did not wish to be rescued when the world knows what you’re tangled in. ”
My eyes bugged. “The world knows what?” When he didn’t answer, I pried, “How did my father get you to come?”
The policeman glared at me in the mirror. “Your father and brother didn’t make us do anything. We went to them—we had to do something. Your sibling was out of control.”
My heart hurt. My head hurt. I couldn’t make sense of this mess.
Pressing my fingers against my temples, I begged, “Please, whatever you’ve heard, pay no attention. They have it wrong. Just—please take me back.”
Take me back so I can save him. He needs me!
My soul cried for lying about my brother—the one person who had my wellbeing in mind—but my loyalties had changed. Somewhere along the way, I’d chosen Jethro over everyone. He was my curse, my challenge, my salvation, and I wasn’t going to leave him when he needed me the most.
I’d forced him to notice me. I’d forced him to lean on me.
And now I’ve left him without any help.
The car didn’t slow. We kept driving...mile after mile of rolling hills, grazing deer, and dense forest. The car remained silent.
Fear gave me palpitations. Frustration gave me shakes. I hated that I wasn’t in control. I hadn’t been in control my entire life, and this was just another instance in which men believed they knew better.
First my father. Then Jethro. Now these arseholes.
I wanted to scratch out their eyes and slam on the brakes. I wanted to scream and teach them just how capable I was.
Breathe. Calm down.
You’re free!
You should be happy!
To prevent myself from combusting, I glanced out the window. Our speed blurred tussock and seedlings. Acres and acres of woodland and fences. No wonder Jethro had let me run for my freedom. I would never have made it to the boundary.
Miles already separated me from the Hall, but I couldn’t stand another metre without Jethro.
Gripping the door handle, I tried to open it. “Let me out. This instant.” It remained locked and impenetrable.
A cough caught me unaware, residual liquid still in my lungs.
The policeman glanced at me, eyebrow raised. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Miss.”
“Why? Am I under arrest?”
The further we drove, the more my body hurt—I could no longer distinguish if it was from drowning or leaving Jethro in the hands of evil.
A smidgen of relief came unwanted. I was free. Despite everything, I’d gotten out alive—at the cost of another. I’m safe.
The officer smiled thinly. “You’ll be fully debriefed when we get to London. I suggest you have a rest.”
Every new distance, my diamond collar grew heavier, colder.
Every metre we travelled, my fingertip tattoos itched with spidery scratches.
It was as if the spell Hawksridge had over me tried to suck me back—gravity throttling me with diamonds and ink bursting from my skin to return to its master.
As much as I despised being a prisoner of the Hawks, I’d found love with Jethro.
I’d found myself, and every hill we ascended, I lost more and more of who I’d become.
My stomach churned as I remembered the gravesite with my family’s tombstones. Voices filled my head, flitting like ghosts.
You said you’d be the last.
You promised you’d end this.
I glowered at the policeman driving.
It isn’t over. Not yet.
I will go back and save him.
I will stop this!
My eyes widened, noticing the two policemen wore bulletproof vests. Why were they wearing raid gear on a simple ‘rescue’ mission? Were the Hawks seriously that crazy? Would they shoot men of the law?
The men remained silent as we coasted beneath the gatehouse and archway of the entrance to Hawksridge estate.
I craned my neck to look at the family sigil of hawks and a nest of women. “You’re making a mistake.” I pressed my hand against the window, wishing I could run back to the Hall where I’d spent the past couple of months trying to flee.
The policeman muttered, “Tell that to your brother.”
The conversation faded, leaving a stagnant taste of trust and confusion. What had V done? What did the cops think happened to me?
My stomach once again somersaulted.
You’re doing the right thing leaving.
You’re doing the only thing you can.
Jethro knew that. It was because he cared for me that he sent me away. In his mind, it was the only solution. But in mine, it was a dreadful mistake.
He’ll pay for setting me free.
And it’ll be all my fault.
Sighing, I rested my forehead on the coolness of the glass.
I ached.
I burned.
I didn’t even get to say goodbye.