Chapter 21
TWENTY-ONE
Gigi
Present day
I was never chasing the Circle; I was always chasing him.
At a time when I was so desperate to just feel something, aching to fulfil some human emotion, I was completely oblivious to the fact I was chasing the feeling of him.
Harry.
I may not remember what happened that night, but a part of me always knew. He planted himself inside my brain, embedded himself so deeply I’ve been subconsciously pursuing him for years. Years I spent chasing the Circle, only to now realise I was only ever chasing him.
That was where our story began, but perhaps this is where it ends.
When will we be free from Richard? At what point will I take his threats seriously – when Harry’s burnt corpse is buried six feet under?
The cigarette trembles between my fingers at the thought as I bring it to my mouth, fighting back the tears building behind my eyes. The metal step is cold and damp from the grey, overcast day, groaning beneath me as I shift forwards.
I’ve always hated cigarettes, but they’re familiar. They remind me of Harry. And I’ll anchor myself to that emotion while I’m still able to feel something.
At the thought of him, I glance over my shoulder towards the motel room, where he’s still asleep, naked and sprawled across the sheets, shielded by the thin, half-draped curtain.
I mutter on a broken breath, “Fuck.”
The sound of a car pulls my attention forwards, its tyres slipping into a small pothole at the motel entrance, sloshing water over the sides. The dark Audi R8 has no right being in a place like this. It’s too new. Too immaculate.
I remain steady despite my racing heart, taking a drag of the cigarette as I watch the vehicle pull to a stop in one of the parking spaces. The headlights shine bright through the grey day, spits of rain dotting the glass.
The wipers move over the front screen, obstructing my view of the driver.
The engine turns off, the lights disappearing alongside it, and slowly, the front door opens.
Hudson steps out, balancing his elbow on the roof of the car and keeping his head tucked down.
Though he knows I’m watching. I make no effort to move despite my heart slamming against my ribcage, eyes set on him as I withdraw the cigarette from my lips.
He finds the courage with a deep breath and steps back to close the driver’s door.
I straighten my back on his approach.
He strides closer, hands stuffed into his front pockets.
I stub the cigarette out on the step beside me.
It hisses, the step wet from the rain. I focus my attention on it as black leather shoes land in front of me.
Hudson moves a step to the side, sitting beside me on the metal step.
Knees slightly parted, he leans forwards, resting his forearms on his thighs.
Our silence is accompanied by the buzzing of the steady flashing vacancy sign, which hums over the distant traffic noise.
“How mad are they?”
“Pretty mad.” He clears his throat and turns to me. “Was it worth it?”
A sad smile reaches my lips. “It was.”
A thought saunters in slowly, distracting me from the present. Is what I’m about to walk into any different from the happiness my mum forfeited for her children?
She loved her children more than anything, signing her life away to protect them. I now realise there’s only one person I feel that strongly for. And I see him everywhere.
I see him in the roses plotted in the flower bed.
I see him in the cigarette packet sitting on the floor.
I see him in the expensive designer suit Hudson’s wearing.
Everything is a reminder of him and all that he sacrificed for me.
There’s a version of me I thought I’d be by now.
She wasn’t supposed to have fucked up as many times as she has.
She wasn’t supposed to have tripped and fallen at every hurdle in her desperate attempt to find herself.
She was supposed to have it all figured out.
She was supposed to have a life that made sense.
But she was young and foolish, distracted by shaping herself into the woman she thought she should be.
Now she carries the weight of every choice she thought would lead somewhere. She lies in the carnage of what she thought she wanted, having suffered mistakes she can’t undo.
After losing herself to insanity, she ached for redemption. But history doesn’t grant second chances; it gives you the opportunity to do better.
And this is me doing better.
I love Harry. I always will. Secrets, lies, and all.
Mum sacrificed everything for her children to give them life.
And I’ll do the same for him.
Hudson clears his throat. “Come on.” He rises to his feet. “It’s time to go.”
I blink hard and rub my eyes, bringing myself fully back to the present. On shaky legs, I pull myself up and turn in the direction of the motel room. My limbs protest, making the movement slow.
Hudson shifts in front of me, blocking my path.
I assure him, “I’ll only need a minute.”
I take a step to the side, but he shifts the same way, diverting his focus down to his shoes.
“What are you—?” I cut myself off. “I’m just going to say goodbye,”
“It will only make things worse.”
My face drains of colour, the realisation threatening to pull me under.
“Just let me say goodbye to him.” I grab his arm. “Please.”
There’s a fraction of a smile, but it’s sad and pinched, as if he equally hates the order. I shake my head frantically, but the protest falls short on my tongue. I know I have to leave.
I have to go.
I have to do what’s best for him.
Hudson places his hand on my lower back, encouraging me down the steps. “Come on.”
Every step feels alien as we walk towards Hudson’s parked car. The lights flash, signalling the doors are unlocked, but I linger at the passenger door, turning my attention back to the motel and the window on the first floor, distorted through the tears blurring my eyes.
Exhaling a sharp breath, I drop my head and climb into the leather seat.
Hudson gets in beside me, starting the engine a moment later. There’s a restless energy to his movements as we drive out of the car park, narrowly missing the pothole.
The quiet is weighted and heavy, like an anchor trying to drown me.
He shifts in his seat. “I won’t tell them where I found you—” Hudson cuts himself short, glancing at his phone as it lights up in the centre console. His lips press into a thin line as he turns his attention back to the road, relaxing back in his seat.
I turn towards the window. “They already know, don’t they?”
His silence is answer enough.
The car pulls up outside the iron gates, lingering for just a moment before they open with a heavy groan. Hudson presses the gas, and the gravel crunches beneath the tyres as he pulls into the driveway.
The courtyard is sparse with it still being early morning, only a handful of cars parked outside the Circle headquarters, with recruits yet to arrive for the heists in store for today. Our car pulls up beside the armoured truck, yet to be prepped.
I feel the weight of Hudson’s stare as the car pulls to a stop, desperate to say something but choosing to say nothing at all. Rather than dwell in the silence, I exit the car, starting the walk to Richard’s office.
While I’ve done this walk time and time again, my intentions are as clear as they ever were. My legs are too shaky to be considered confident, and I hesitantly clear my throat as we reach the office door.
I rap my knuckle against it, my hand dropping to the door handle.
“Wait.” Hudson sighs. “Gigi—”
I push the door, leaving it wide open as I step inside. Richard and Jamie are in similar positions round the desk as if I never left yesterday. My future husband lounges back against the wood, arms crossed and smirking, while Richard rises to his feet from behind the desk, lifting his brow.
I barely recognise the sound of my own voice. “I’ll do it.”
Richard smiles wide, clapping his hands together. “Very well. I’ll have the paperwork put in place.”
Hudson slips into the room behind me, resting back against the wall. Richard rounds his desk, nearing the door, but Jamie stands firm as if he has nowhere to go.
“The wedding won’t happen straight away, of course.
You’ll be expected to attend public appearances, interviews, the lot.
I’ll have the itinerary sent over to you.
” Richard pauses in the doorway. “Oh, and Gigi? If your display isn’t believable, or for one moment someone suspects otherwise, this ordeal is over.
And Harry will suffer the consequences.”
With the pit of my stomach churning, I nod and drop my chin.
He orders, “Come on, Hudson.”
I wait for something, anything, but there’s only a heavy silence – one that forces me to lift my head just as quickly as I lowered it. Richard’s brows draw together in annoyance, and he gestures impatiently to the door.
“Anderson,” he barks sternly, dropping his last name.
Hudson’s attention passes between me and Jamie. He’s wearing an expression I’d have once thought was regret. He lingers for a moment as if fighting the will to stay before shifting closer to the door.
He passes me a final stare before Richard slams the door closed, sealing us inside. My fingernails press deeply into the inside of my palms, cutting skin. I raise my head, fighting the instinct to run.
Jamie strides towards me. My gaze whips to the desk, frantically searching for a weapon, but his hand is already tangled in my hair, wrenching it backwards before I’m able to defend myself.
A letter opener sits to the side. I reach desperately for it, but Jamie’s grip turns solid, shoving my shoulder down so I drop to my knees.
He tangles my roots between his fingers with a strength that forces my head back, and in this moment, I can’t help but think how the possessive grip feels so different to Harry’s last night.
“I might’ve put up with this shit as your partner, but as your future husband …” Jamie shakes his fist, making my chin buckle. “I don’t expect such disrespect.”
My scalp screams for freedom, but I stare up at him blankly, refusing to share the pain he aches for. With his hand still tangled in my hair, he starts to undo his belt buckle.
Jamie pulls the belt loose, undoing the fly of his jeans. I keep my eyes sternly on his face.
“Pull it out,” he tells me.
I remain rigid, which only encourages him to pull harder.
It isn’t the sting that screams at me to listen to his demand; it’s the image of Harry’s house burning, the imminent threat to his life. I shakily reach my head towards the front of his boxers.
Jamie spreads his legs just slightly. “Now suck.”
I bring my face forwards, keeping my gaze trained on his cruel eyes and his hideous expression. Despite trying to ooze defiance, my palms are quivering, and my heart sprints hard against my chest.
A tear slips from the corner of my eye as I draw nearer, parting my lips. He tangles my hair tighter round his wrist, excitement getting the better of him as he slaps his hips forwards.
“Oh fuck,” he whines. His eyes roll backwards, his chin to the ceiling as his cock slips over my tongue. His expression morphs into a smug, content smile. “Now put more effort into it.”
I clamp my jaw and bite down. Hard.
Bloods spurts in my mouth, flesh splitting underneath my teeth. With a guttural roar, Jamie slips out of me quickly. His throat shakes on a piercing scream as he looks down at himself and the mess I’ve made.
I turn my head to the side, spitting a mixture of saliva and blood onto the floorboards.
Blood smears across my face as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.
I double over, coughing hard as vomit rises quickly.
An awful sound claws its way up my throat, a mixture of a sob and a scream.
I slap my hand over my mouth as if that’ll fix it. As if I can silence the collapse.
“Was that …” – I pant, withdrawing my palm – “enough effort for you?
The last thing I see is the wrath behind Jamie’s advance before he slams my face into the corner of the wooden desk. My jaw hits the surface with such power it throws my head back. My skull collides with the floor a second before everything turns black.