Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
There’s some sort of weird energy between Gage and me, and I can’t figure it out.
He stares at me with such unnerving intensity that it makes my legs tremble, and heat creeps up my face.
It’s like he’s trying to see into my soul, which is dumb because he’s mostly blind, but I feel like he sees in ways other than just sight.
Then I remind myself that it’s just how he looks. Gage doesn’t care about me. He’s just another man who’d hurt me if given the chance, and that sobers me up.
We wrap up the prep, and I move to the front door, saying gruffly, “Well. Good luck with tomorrow.”
I wince. Good luck? Why the fuck didn’t I say: go fuck yourself?
Gage just grunts.
I take off before I can embarrass myself more and walk to my car. It’s even colder than this morning. It’s the kind of cold that needles into your bones and makes your skin ache with how dry it is.
I arrive back at my apartment hungry, freezing, and fucking pissed off. Snatching up my things, I bring in the mail I forgot about this morning in my rush to get to Gage’s.
As soon as I get inside, something doesn’t feel right. I flip the lights on and realize it’s cold in my place. Like, icebox cold.
What the fuck?
I rush to the temperature panel. It’s set normally at sixty-five. It now shows just slightly warmer than outside.
What the hell? I search for the hot water heater, or whatever the hell they have here, and realize that I can’t find it.
Fucking hell. It must be in one of the other units since this place was converted.
Shivering, I move to the stove to heat up some dinner. There’s no wind in here, but it’s cold. Just what I fucking needed. I’m mad, I’m tired, and I’m fucking cold.
I don’t want to call the landlord. I don’t want to give him any reason to kick me out.
For a brief second, I think about calling Gage. Immediately, I shove that thought away. What the hell is wrong with me?
I have to call my landlord. This isn’t annoying; it is a legitimate issue.
I go back and forth on it for a minute, then dial my landlord. The phone rings and rings until I get his voicemail. Cussing, I leave him a message, flipping my phone shut again.
I eat dinner, and the house is cold enough that my food steams visibly. Wrapping myself in a blanket, I check the mail I brought in from earlier. Maybe I didn’t pay a bill?
Immediately, I see it’s not a bill. It’s a letter addressed to me by hand. Only it’s addressed to Celeste, not Raven. The handwriting is messy, and my stomach drops.
No.
I rip the envelope open and pull out a letter, scanning to the bottom.
It’s signed by Max
Fuck.
I drop the letter like it’s poisoned. He found me? How the hell did he find me? I did everything I could to hide from him.
My heart races, and suddenly, I feel sick.
I need to leave much earlier than expected. I need to leave now.
I count the money in my wallet, my fingers barely able to move, but not because of the cold anymore. Now, my whole body is thrumming.
It’s not enough. It’s not fucking enough.
It’s fine. I’ll just live out of my car. Right? It can’t be any colder than it is in here.
I glance at the letter. What did he say? Is he angry? I left him in the middle of the night. Just took what few things I had and left without a word.
Whatever it is, it’s just a letter. The letter can’t hurt me.
Right?
I look at it.
Celeste,
My girl, my beautiful woman. I don’t know where to start.
I miss you every day. It took me so long to find you.
I’m sorry for what happened, but you have to know I didn’t mean to hurt you.
I love you. Why didn’t you call? Write? At least explain?
I feel we have so much to fight for. I love you.
You’re my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me.
I’m at a loss for words.
Please, Celeste. I fucking miss you. I’ll go to the ends of the earth to get you back.
You can’t hide from me.
Max
At the bottom, he scribbled his phone number.
I stare at the letter, a horrible mix of emotions rolling through me at once. Then, a snort breaks through.
Max never loved me. That’s not what love looks like.
Then, pain follows quickly after. I wish Max loved me. I wish I knew what love looks like. All the pain I’ve been holding in rushes through me, and I choke back a sob. I’m so goddamn tired of being angry. So goddamn tired of hurting.
Will I ever feel what real love is like?
There’s a knock at my back door, and I startle.
Is it Max? Fuck. Fear rushes through me, and I grab my baseball bat. There’s no peephole, so I can’t see who’s there. I crack the door just a smidge.
Axel stands there. “Oh hey, little bird!” He takes one look at my face, then sobers. “Raven. You okay?”
Horror rushes through me slowly. It’s Axel. The man who taunted me earlier. The man who’s seeing my red eyes. Oh my god. He caught me crying.
I try to slam the door, but Axel steps in, looking around. “Are you okay?” He looks angry, searching the apartment.
I jerk back. “I’m fine.” I school my face and clear my throat. “I’m fine. Get out.”
Axel looks around again. “Why are you crying?”
Fuck, of course he noticed.
“I’m not!” I raise the bat. “Now get out!”
Axel eyes me for a calculating second. Then, he shuts the door, cutting off the cold wind. “Not until I know you’re safe.” His features smooth over, and he rubs his arms. “Kinda cold in here.”
“Axel.” My body starts to shake, and I can’t do anything about it. “Get out.” Axel isn’t listening to me. He isn’t listening, just like Max didn’t listen. I raise the bat.
Axel raises his hands. “Don’t hit me; it’ll get me off. And your landlord asked me to take a look at your heat.”
No way in hell. I don’t lower the bat. I’m so fucking over being treated like a doormat. I’m getting in my car, and I’m leaving. To where, I don’t know, but I’m going.
“Nice guy, Kevin is. Drunk as fuck tonight, though.” Axel starts wandering through my place.
“Hey.” I chase after him.
“Where’s the boiler?” He stalks to the kitchen, poking around.
“It’s not here, asshole. Don’t you think I looked?”
Axel spins, hands on his hips. “Damn it.”
For a second, I wonder if hitting him will make things worse. If he’ll pull it out of my hands and beat me with it.
I find myself stuck in the same nightmare I’ve been in since a child: rollover. Play dead. Don’t anger the man, and he won’t hurt you.
Suddenly, Axel is right in front of me, hands caging me in on either side. “You can come to my place,” he says. The look he’s giving me. It’s the same look Max gave me after… he did what he did. It’s a placating look. A gentle look. It makes me feel sick.
“C’mon.” Axel’s smiling now. His eyes are all soft, but it’s not real. I know it’s not real; I just can’t put my finger on what’s wrong.
Axel grabs my hand. “We’ll go to my place.”
His place. He’s going to move me to a different location. He’s taking me somewhere else so he can do what he wants to me. My entire body feels locked up.
Axel pulls me gently along behind him. I don’t want to follow, but instinct screams that I do. That I just appease him.
The steps I take are in slow motion, and my gaze locks on the book beside my bed. The book I used to read as a kid where the main character jumped on the back of the bad guy and beat him over the head. I always wanted to be her.
You might not ever have a chance to be her if you let him take you.
I stop. I dig my weight into my heels, and Axel stops, turning back around with raised eyebrows.
Fight. And don’t stop fighting till you make it out.
Fuck, I’m scared. I scan Axel’s face, looking to see if he’s mad at me. To see if he’s going to hit me.
He’ll do worse than hit you. Fucking fight.
“You okay?” The space between Axel’s brows bunch. But it’s all wrong. The furrows are too deep, like he’s trying too hard to look concerned.
“Yeah.” The fear sneaks out before I can stop it, and I give Axel a tiny smile.
“Okay.” He smiles back, grabs my keys off the counter, then pulls me toward the door.
I’ve been hit before. I survived.
Another step.
I’ve been assaulted before. I survived.
One more step.
I can feel that book’s presence burning into my awareness.
No. No more cowering. It’s time to fight.
Then, I yank my arm from Axel’s grip, and with a scream, attack him from behind.