Chapter 25
Leilani
“Are you asleep?” Koby asks, pressing his lips to my temple.
I’m curled into his side on the couch, his arm heavy around my waist. He keeps dropping lazy kisses onto the crown of my head, absentmindedly, but each one creates something warm in my chest.
“No, I’m not.”
“Then what are you thinking about, hellcat?”
How peaceful life can be.
It still shocks me, how quiet the world feels when he’s here, his thumb moving idly against my hip, the weight of his arm keeping me grounded. The sunlight spills over the coffee table, catching the glass of water he hasn’t touched.
It’s Sunday afternoon, and Koby’s been home all day. No meetings, no phone calls dragging him out, no one knocking on the door. We’re not waiting for anything, and it feels like time has finally stopped chasing us.
It’s just us and I love it.
In Anton’s cage, I dreamed of days like this, but never really believed I’d escape. I didn’t think I’d have a chance to start over, find myself, and lead a normal life, but today I know it’s possible.
“How happy you make me feel,” I whisper, tilting my head to kiss his chin.
I worried our relationship would be built on mind-blowing sex, the kind that burns too hot and eats itself alive, but I needn’t have. There’s more.
So much more.
He talks to me, listens to me, and looks at me like I matter, not like I’m some broken thing he needs to fix.
His arms tighten around me. “That’s the goal, hellcat. Happy, calm, and mine.”
I smile, burrowing further into him, and he groans when my elbow accidentally pokes his stomach.
“Shit, sorry.” I pull back, but he only tightens his hold.
“Not your fault. I shouldn’t have eaten so much.”
“No, you shouldn’t have.”
We spent two hours in the kitchen together while I prepared our meal, him mostly leaning against the counter and stealing bites every time I turned my back.
I swatted his hand away from the frying pan more than once.
He ate two full servings, then lingered afterward, poking through the pot until he finished the whole lot.
His lips brush my temple. “Then again, you shouldn’t cook like you’re head chef at the best restaurant in the fucking state.” His fingers twitch in my hair. “Where’d you learn that?”
“My dad. Cooking was his favorite thing to do.”
My heart slows at the memory of Dad, wooden spoon in hand, the scent of butter and overcooked garlic filling the whole house.
“He looked peaceful when he cooked. Like the world couldn’t touch him.”
Koby’s hand slides down to my waist, tugging me closer. “I never even asked if you know where Anton’s holding him. Maybe we could find him? I could ask Ryder—”
“He’s dead, Koby.” My throat locks, but I swallow hard, forcing more words out. “I told you that.”
His body goes rigid beneath mine. “When?”
“The very first day at Carter’s when Jax told me to explain my outburst. I told you Octavius took me from Anton as punishment for sparing my father.”
“No, baby. You didn’t say why.” His arms wrap around me, holding me tight, his warm breath ghosting my temple. “Story time?”
I nod, closing my eyes before the words pour out.
It hurt. Digging myself up from the grave I lay in for three years hurt like hell.
I sat in Anton’s living room, my back straight, dull eyes glued to the door while I waited for him to come home and tuck me into bed.
The apartment was always calm and steady.
Not even Anton’s voice broke the quiet. He was soft-spoken, never yelled, never allowed the outside world to bleed into the walls.
And then the eerie calm shattered with a bang.
The door flew open, hitting the wall, a jarring sound that knocked the air clean from my lungs.
I jerked back against the couch, my pulse soaring, hammering in my ears. Octavius stormed in, his broad chest heaving, mindless fury all over his face.
Two tall, neckless, menacing goons I’d never seen before followed him inside. One held Anton by the back of his neck, squeezing hard while pushing him forward.
His wrists were bound tight behind him, shoulders wrenched back at a painful-looking angle. His lip was split, cheek swollen, and his shirt clung to him, soaked through with blood.
“Make him kneel,” Octavius ordered.
The man gripping Anton shoved him down. The pained groan he let out as his knees cracked against the wooden floor made my skin break out in a cold sweat.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. Anton was supposed to be untouchable. Composed. I’d never seen him kneel. It felt like the one constant in my fucked-up life had evaporated.
“Shh, calm down, sweet girl,” he cooed, staring right at me. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. There was nothing I could do.”
“Sorry?” I echoed, the word barely a whisper.
He nodded, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “He’s gone, sweet girl. Your father... he’s gone.” He turned his head, leveling Octavius with a vicious stare. “Don’t hurt her. Please. Do whatever the fuck you want to me, but don’t hurt her. It’s not her fault, she—”
“Shut the fuck up!” he snapped, driving his boot into Anton’s ribs. “Three years! You’ve been leading me by the nose for three fucking years!”
Anton doubled over, wincing, coughing, spitting red onto the floor. I watched, numb, frozen in place, his words bouncing inside my mind but not registering. Your father... he’s gone.
Gone where?
Anton straightened, glaring at his brother. So much hatred in his eyes and so much desperation in his voice. “I couldn’t kill her. Look at her! She’s so pretty, so good—”
“You had a job to do!” Octavius roared, tearing at his hair while pacing the living room until he suddenly paused, eyes growing wide. “What really happened to my men?”
Anton swallowed, his chin lifting in defiance for the first time since they shoved him through the door. “I killed them.”
“Motherfucker. Those were my best people! You have any idea how long it took to find their replacements? Fuck!”
I sat there, seemingly present, but not really.
Years had passed since anyone else entered the apartment, since I heard any voice other than Anton’s.
Now the noise was everywhere, too much at once, battering me from all sides.
My body didn’t know how to absorb it. I trembled, eyes stinging, throat clamped so tight I couldn’t swallow or pull down a full breath.
Panic took over, years of careful calm stripped away in a moment, chaos pouring in and frying my nerves until they were raw and on display.
“Stop.” Anton spat at his brother. “Stop scaring her! She didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t take it out on her.”
Octavius just scoffed, jerking his chin in a silent order. His men moved, hauling Anton up, his arms still twisted back, wrists bound. And yet he still strained forward, trying to close the space between us.
Slowly, Octavius rounded the couch, every step calculated, rhythmical. “You really love this sick fucking fantasy, don’t you?”
Those words yanked me further out of the haze I’d been living in, reminding me with every breath that this was no longer a quiet world.
“You love her, isn’t that right?”
Calloused knuckles scraped along my cheek, nothing soft or tender in that gesture. Octavius braced both elbows on the back of the couch, leaning in, his cheek brushing mine, the stench of cigars hot on his breath.
“Don’t touch her! You promised!” Anton roared, his nostrils flaring, spit flying past his mouth. He fought against his restraints as if he could throw himself between us.
“You dare talk about promises when you broke yours?” Octavius hissed, nuzzling his nose into my neck and inhaling deeply. “She smells sweet... soft. You use baby wash on her, you twisted fuck, don’t you?”
“Get away from her! Please. I’ll do anything, just don’t touch her. Don’t fucking hurt her!”
Something stirred inside me. My stomach turned over, heat and ice flooding my veins at the desperation in Anton’s voice. At what he was offering. Anything. I knew he meant it. He’d give up everything for my safety.
“Anything?”
“Anything. Just don’t touch her.”
Octavius lingered, taking one more sniff of my hair before straightening up. He was silent for a long, tense moment, pacing a line in front of Anton. Every crease in his face shifted between distaste and anger before settling on intrigue.
“Not ten minutes ago, I was going to make you watch her die. Slowly. Painfully—”
Anton whimpered, horror written across his battered face.
“—but that would mean I’d have to kill you, wouldn’t it?
” He shifted to the left, angling himself so Anton would see my tear-streaked face.
“You’d never forgive me for hurting your little toy, so here’s how this goes.
I don’t fucking trust you anymore. You flushed that down the drain when you failed me. You deserve to be punished for that.”
“Do your worst,” Anton spat at him, though his eyes remained locked on mine. “Beat me up, burn me, snap my fucking fingers one by one. Break every bone, just—”
“No, no, no,” Octavius clicked his tongue. “You can take pain, brother. That’s the problem. Any punishment I carve into your skin you’ll wear like a badge. You’ll forget it as soon as you’ve healed. No... I won’t hurt you. Not like that.”
He marched back toward me, my pulse kicking up a riot with every thud of his combat boots. I wanted to disappear, melt into the couch, but Octavius gripped my wrists, wrenching me into his arms.
“I’m taking away your toy, Anton.”
“No! Please, no! Anything, anything but this!” He thrashed wildly against the men pinning him back, spit flying from his mouth as his voice broke like eggshells.
“Silence!” Octavius boomed near my ear, his hold bruising my wrists.
“Shut the fuck up and listen. I’m taking her.
And if you want her back, you’ll prove your loyalty, prove I can trust you.
Fail me again and I’ll make sure she dies screaming.
Any order I give you’ll follow without a hiccup.
If I’m pleased, maybe I’ll let you talk to her.
Maybe even see her. But you won’t touch her until I’m satisfied with your behavior. ”
“You think I’ll do a fucking thing for you while you’re holding her hostage? While you use her? Hurt her?”
“I give you my word that not one hair will fall from her pretty head. Not one man will lay one inappropriate finger on her. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”
The words hung there forever. My pulse pounded so loud I could hear it in the hollow of my ears, each beat pushing me toward the surface of the fishbowl I’d been living in. Every word Octavius spoke sounded like a net breaking the water’s surface.
Like salvation.
A way up.
A way out.
I almost believed him because I had to believe something. I had no hope of escaping Anton, but if Octavius took me away, maybe I could run. Maybe I could breathe again.
Reality crashed around me when Anton’s earlier words hit me right in the gut. They didn’t fully register while I was still floating somewhere between cognizance and my dreamlike existence, but once new hope filled my veins, I understood what he said. My dad was gone. He was dead and I was alone.
“I need a decision,” Octavius pressed. “Either you watch her die right now, or I take her away for safekeeping while you mend your mistakes. Your choice.”
Anton stared right at me, tears escaping the corners of his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart... I’m so sorry.
I’ll fix this. I promise. You’ll be back here with me sooner than you know, but right now you need to go with Octavius, okay?
” His voice broke on each syllable. “You need to be brave for me, sweetie, can you do that?”
A battle started inside my head. I wanted to rage, scream, lunge at him and tear his eyes out so he’d never look at me again. His lips were stained with blood, his face a disaster, and he shook so hard I knew I could do some real damage.
But I couldn’t.
I was weak, still dazed, and surrounded by three armed men who’d put a bullet between my eyes without blinking. It wasn’t the time to rage. I had one fucking chance at getting out of there, and I wouldn’t waste it.
“Okay,” I breathed in that sweet, docile voice he conditioned into me. “I’ll wait.”
He exhaled a shaky breath, blinking his tears away, then looked back at his brother. “No one touches her.”
“As long as you do everything I say, exactly as I say it, no one will touch her. No one will hurt her, but step one fucking toe out of line and I’ll fuck her myself before passing her over to everyone else who’s willing.”
I open my eyes and the room tilts for a second before it steadies. My chest aches, my throat’s tight, and the memory swirls in my head, still fresh. The apartment, Anton, Octavius...
Koby wipes a stray tear from my cheek, his thumb drifting across my skin before he leans down, pressing his mouth to my eyelid, then the other, then my nose, and my forehead.
“You okay, hellcat?”
“They’re all dead,” I say, my fingers fisting his t-shirt. “My stepmom, my father, Aalyiah... Everyone I ever called family is gone and I’ve been left behind.”
He pulls me into him, his big hand cradling the back of my neck, lips on my temple. I press my face into his shoulder, but Koby doesn’t let me hide.
“They’re gone,” he agrees, tilting my chin up.
“But I’m here. You have a new family now.
You have Carter, Ryder, Broadway. The girls.
And most importantly, you have me.” He kisses me again.
Not on the mouth, but everywhere else. My temple, my cheek, the corner of my jaw, like he’s stamping me into his memory. “Stay, baby. Stay with me.”
And I know he doesn’t just mean now... he means forever.