Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
My entire body tenses as I see Zoe pointing a gun at me. A wave of cold sweat floods over me, and I’m not sure what to do. My heart starts beating faster, my palms growing damp. All I can focus on is the barrel of the gun that is a mere inch away from my face, and I don’t know if she’ll shoot.
I take a small step backward, and Zoe uses the opportunity to walk into the studio and shut the door, leaving a small gap. She doesn’t seem to notice it or doesn’t care enough. One look at her is enough to know just how angry she is.
“Zoe,” I speak, my voice shaky, despite my pathetic attempts to keep it steady.
Her blonde hair is messily tied into a high bun. The eye that I stabbed with the fork is bandaged up nicely, meaning she got decent medical treatment.
“You bitch,” she grits out, jabbing the gun into my forehead. “You ruined everything.”
“What—”
“Shut the fuck up,” she raises her voice a little. “You’re going to tell me where my husband is.”
A small frown tugs on the corner of my lips. Nelson? How the fuck would I know where he is? A lot of things have happened since Arlo rescued me, and the topic of him never came up. Then again, it all happened in less than a week, so it’s not a surprise I never thought of asking about him.
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t you lie to me.” The anger in her tone rises with each word, and she takes a step forward, forcing me to take one back. “Paul told me your little assassin boyfriend has him. Where. Is. My. Husband?”
My eyes flick to the bed where the gun is. Zoe’s eye follows my line of vision, a bitter chuckle coming from her mouth. “Don’t even think about it. You’ll be dead before you can reach for it.’’
My shoulders slump in defeat. She’s right. There’s not a chance I’d be able to grab the gun, shoot and kill her before she does the same. Slowly, I try thinking of a way out. The studio seems even smaller now that I’m backed into a fucking corner.
Stalling it is.
“Why, Zoe?” I take the smallest step back, desperately trying to create distance between us. “Arlo tried to help you.”
“Don’t you get it?” A deep, bitter laugh fills the air around us, chilling me to the bone. There’s something in that twisted, sadistic expression of hers. Something akin to regret — though it vanishes before I can pry into that. “There was never a way to help me.”
“That’s not true,” I whisper. “He would’ve helped you.”
Zoe takes a deep breath, taking another step toward me until I’m backed into the corner, my back hitting the wooden dresser.
It rattles a little, the picture of Niko, Lucas, Noelle, and Hudson falling to the floor, the glass frame shattering into pieces.
Zoe pays no mind and steps over the glass until our faces are mere inches away from one another.
“You can’t be that delusional, Blair.” Her voice drops to one that’s filled with pain.
My chest swells with a sudden ache, and when I look at her expression, I see the younger version of myself.
“There was never a way out for me. You and I are two sides of the same coin. The only difference is that you made it out. I didn’t. I never will.”
Her voice cracks, and for the first time, I get to see someone behind the mask she’s been keeping up.
She’s just like me — terrified. I can see the young girl she used to be, abused, manipulated, and violated in ways no one should ever be.
I can’t help the sympathy that rises inside of me when I see tears form in her eye — because her current expression mirrors my own.
Pure fucking agony.
“I don’t even remember who I was before this life, Blair,” she admits, tears rolling down her face.
“I don’t remember who my birth parents were.
I don’t remember where I came from, not even my real name.
’’ A small laugh comes from her, bordering on painful.
“Zoe is such a stupid fucking name. My husband picked it for me. And he made sure it would be the only name I’d ever know. ”
“Please,” I beg, slowly reaching up to grab the gun away, but stop midway, dropping my hand back to rest next to my body. “There’s still time. Let me help you get out.”
Her body starts trembling, the hand holding the gun faltering for a split second.
Tears stream down her face freely, my own following suit.
This seems to be cathartic for Zoe. She’s finally letting it all out, and all the hatred I had for her seems to disappear.
She’s just a broken soul, driven to the brink of insanity.
None of this was ever her fault, and she didn’t deserve any of this.
“You can’t,” she croaks. “No one can help me anymore.”
Too many emotions are on display. If she’s been manipulated, brainwashed to the point of not remembering the life she had before she was Zoe Adams, that just means that she was way younger when Nelson took her. She was younger than I was when the abuse started.
All I can see when I look at her face is a little girl, terrified, in so much misery. She doesn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, because hers has long closed. Her entire life is a black hole, and it’s swallowing her alive. Insanity, anger, and pain are all she’s ever known.
“Stay with me,” I blurt out, swallowing down the tears that threaten to spill out again. “Stay with me. I’ll help you.”
“I came here to kill you.”
I suck in a deep breath. “Are you going to kill me?”
“Yes,” she responds, though there’s slight hesitation in her tone.
Zoe straightens up, calming her trembling body. She readjusts the grip on the weapon in her hand, pointing it right between my eyes. She lifts her chin slightly, looking right into me, as if looking for something.
“Then get it over with.”
She lifts a brow. “I will, but before that… I need to tell you something. Think of it as the little kindness I can offer you.”
“Go on.”
“Everything that happened to you is because of your birth father.’’
Everything in me stills. Blood stops flowing in my veins, my mouth parting a little. Zoe doesn’t wait for me to process the information; instead, she nods, then continues talking.
“He was a part of the same club as my husband, Simmons, and the other two morons. He had you out of wedlock, and that got him booted out. To try and get back in their good graces, he offered anything, even you.’’
“That makes no sense, because my mother and stepfather were receiving money for what those two were doing to me.”
“That was just hush money,’’ Zoe explains. “To keep it under wraps. To make sure they won’t snitch. But, the fact that they went with Simmons’ scheme just means they never gave a shit about you.’’
“I know that,” I scoff.
Despite keeping a calm demeanor, I still feel a twinge of pain.
It hurts knowing that my mother was selling me off to be assaulted as a teenager for some money.
It hurts that the woman who gave birth to me, who was supposed to protect, love, and care for me, did such terrible things.
In my book, she’s just as bad as the men who raped me.
“You weren’t the only one.”
I freeze. “Excuse me?”
Zoe nods. “There were plenty of shitty people, just like your parents. I don’t know their names, or if they’re even alive. I just know for a fact there were more of them.”
“If you don’t know anything, why bother telling me at all?”
“Because,” she swallows. “They’ve found another one.”
“Who is it?”
“A girl who was put in a foster family that is related to Simmons. She’s young.”
“How young?”
“She’s three.”
A wave of nausea washes over me, my face paling. I’m silent for what seems to be an eternity before the shock morphs into pure, unfiltered rage. My hands fisted by my sides, my eyes widened.
“Three?! She’s a fucking baby!”
“I know!” Zoe yells back.
“Did they touch her?”
Zoe shakes her head. “No, not yet. They were going to take her, but that’s when my husband went missing, and your little boyfriend started setting New York on fire. She’s safe for now from their abuse. From beatings from her foster family, not so much.”
I grit my teeth. “Why the fuck are you telling me all of this if you’re going to kill me?”
Zoe pauses for a moment, an unknown emotion in her eye. She pauses for a moment, then leans in to whisper in my ear. “You’ll find everything I have on the little girl in my phone. Her name is Daisy.’’
“What—”
Zoe pulls back, then takes the safety off the gun. For the umpteenth time, I’m fucking confused. But then it all starts making sense when Zoe mouths the words I’m sorry, then closes her eyes, ready to pull the trigger.
But she doesn’t get the chance to. I glance behind her, spotting Arlo. He looks as angry as ever, his gun drawn, aimed at Zoe’s head.
“No, Arlo, don’t!”
I scream out, but it’s too late. Warm blood splashes all over my face, and I’m frozen in my spot. Zoe’s lifeless body slumps down to the floor with a loud thump, the gun falling a few feet away from her.
Arlo’s by my side in an instant, dropping his own weapon. He pulls me into a tight, terrifying hug, softly stroking my back.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.”
“Arlo,” I whisper, burying my face in his chest.
This entire thing has shaken me more than I want to admit. Because I now realize what she did. I don’t know how she found out where I was, but she came here to die. They probably told her to kill me off, and somewhere along the line, she figured out that she wanted to die.
That’s why she told me about Daisy. She wanted me to save the little girl. Zoe wanted to make sure someone would find Daisy, and once she heard footsteps, she decided it was time for her to die.
Zoe was right.
We are two sides of the same coin. I made it out. She didn’t. Now, she never will.
Arlo pulls back, cupping my cheeks. I barely see him through the storm of tears in my eyes, but the worry in his expression is evident. He kisses my forehead gently, his hands trembling.
“Did she hurt you?”
I shake my head.
Arlo’s eyes glance to Zoe’s lifeless body, to the back of her head, and he freezes.
It’s as if someone opened the window, and all the cold, winter air came rushing into the small studio.
Slowly, my eyes follow his line of vision, and for what seems to be the millionth time today, I’m at a loss for words.
On the back of Zoe’s neck is a small crescent moon scar.
My eyes flick back to Arlo’s face, and the realization dawns on him quickly. His grip on me falters, and he’s stoic — emotionless — as he takes in the sight. My throat starts closing up, my lungs starting to collapse together.
Then, emotions overtake Arlo’s features.
“No,’’ he whispers.
From rage to so much pain and guilt. Everything hits him at once, and he’s motionless. Yet, despite not moving an inch, tears pool out of his eyes like the ocean. They come down in a tide, falling from his chin onto his pants.
That scar.
Zoe Adams was Luna Collins.