FOURTEEN
Blair is acting odd.
She’s shutting me out, barely speaking to me. The most I’ve seen her in two days was when I brought food to the bedroom. That’s when it finally clicks in my head.
She started acting weird when the storm hit the city, right after I went to see Zoe Adams. For reasons she’s not willing to disclose yet. Blair hates the idea of having someone like Zoe help us, and that’s fucking strange.
Because as of right now, it’s only Zoe that knows just how dark Nelson’s secrets are and what exactly he’s up to. With her help, not only will we be able to locate the girls quicker, but we’ll also be able to get this over with before Simmons runs for president.
This morning, everything is in a haze. I was rushing to reach my parents house because Dad called me, and it wasn’t a social gathering. Mom got hurt during a job she wasn’t supposed to be taking and was in the hospital.
Quickly, I wrapped up Blair’s breakfast and left it outside of her door, knocking twice, letting her know that there’s food waiting for her. I tossed on the first pair of pants and a sweatshirt I could find, grabbed my helmet and bike keys.
But not the apartment keys.
Nope.
If there’s an award for being the stupidest motherfucker alive, I’m the undefeated champion. There’s a good chance she won’t even notice that I’m gone, and since the door locks automatically as soon as it's closed, she’s not actually going to try and leave, right?
Right?
I called Dad, and as soon as he told me that Mom’s injuries aren’t severe, relief washed over me. Apparently, she got too angry to the point of entirely missing the person who sneaked up behind her. Once she sensed him, it was too late; he had already withdrawn his gun and shot her in the shoulder, but it’s not a terrible injury.
He, on the other hand, is no longer breathing.
I turn around, driving past two red lights, unable to stop myself from speeding up with each second. My heart thumps in my chest, barely hanging on. How in the world did I manage to leave the fucking key?
And as luck would fucking have it, the door is opened ajar. Rage builds inside of me; blood boils in my veins. I’m not upset with Blair. I’m upset with myself. It’s my fucking fault she managed to escape and that I was careless enough to allow it.
I didn’t doubt for a second, ever since I brought her to my home, that she was going to try leaving me one way or the other. To think that I’m the one to leave the door wide fucking open for her makes me fucking sick.
Not even that, but she took Arson with her, too.
Which means that she’s either going back to Wren’s apartment or she’ll find a hotel for the night. Now, I’m left all alone, and it will take some time to track down every hotel, motel, and Airbnb in the area— fuck, even the entire city.
As quickly as possible, my computers are all turned on, and immediately, I sit on the leather chair and begin the search. The cameras show her with nothing but a small bag and Arson in her arms as she rushes down the hallway, then into the elevator.
With the cameras that are outside, as well as the street footage, I was able to pinpoint exactly which direction she was taking. Instead of going toward Wren’s place, she went down the street in the opposite direction. I see her entering a bakery, then leaving shortly after with two bagels in hand.
The nearest hotel is four blocks away, and the weather is terrible.
As one of the richer parts of New York, the streets are busy, and she manages to blend in with the crowd. Not entirely, though, as I’ve always been able to recognize her, to spot her even if she’s surrounded by a million people.
I skim through the cameras, then halt.
There’s one missing.
From Arson’s collar.
“Fucking hell,” I hiss.
That’s something she was never supposed to know about. I never pried into her private moments. I was never going to violate her privacy like that – they were already stolen from her one too many times.
But since Arson was with her in Long Grove almost a hundred percent of the time, it was the easiest way to always have my eyes on her. There’s no way she’ll believe me now that she figured it out.
If she did figure it out, it means that she figured out the passcode of the surveillance room and was snooping around. Well, it’s not that difficult to guess the password, since it’s her birthday, but I never thought she’d actually do it.
In fact, it never crossed my mind that she might be curious about me.
My heart swells with happiness, a grin tugging on the corner of my lips.
Blair cares enough to snoop around, which means that she’s definitely getting used to having me around.
And now it’s all fucked up because I never got around to switching Arson’s collar, which I did get personally made previously. It’s exactly the same as the one with the camera, minus the said camera.
With a sigh, I close my eyes.
It’s going to take a lot of damage control to even try to repair the broken trust. She barely started trusting me, opening up, and I fucked it up quicker than I decided to massacre that prison to set my butterfly free.
Now, my main goal is to find her, safe and sound.
I tracked her down to a nearby park. She’s sitting on a bench with Arson sleeping next to her while my girl eats her bagel. She’s so deep in thought that she barely notices that a little girl sits down next to her.
Blair’s eyes snap to the girl’s direction once she is asked a question, and I watch as the fear morphs into a softer expression at the sight of the little child. Blair smiles, and the kiddo pets Arson, who seems to wake up from the slumber.
I transfer Blair’s location to my phone before grabbing a coat and heading outside. Bringing Blair back is my top priority as of right now, and then I have to go and visit Mom and help her get better, if Dad allows it.
I love the man, but he’s peculiar when it comes to Mom.
As if I’m his goddamn competition, not his son.
What I never anticipated was that later tonight, I’d be in the same damned hospital as Mom, not as a visitor.
Just like the sky above, the night had turned dark quickly.
Something is very, very wrong.
I park further away from Blair so she doesn’t hear the bike and get the chance to run away from me. She’s still in the park, with less and less people around as the sky starts turning dark. It’s rather chilly, and she’s not wearing proper clothing for the weather.
Blair is staring at something across the park, frozen in place. For someone who is always on alert, her expression alarms me. My feet move on their own accord, something shifting in the air that causes my shoulders to go rigid. Even Arson is hissing, but no one is around them.
“Blair?”
I ask, softening my voice, trying not to startle her.
I’m standing next to her when she extends her arms and grabs the hem of my sleeve, clutching it in her hands until her knuckles turn white. She’s as pale as a sheet of paper, and despite the cold weather, droplets of sweat form on her forehead.
My eyes follow Blair’s line of vision, and I curse under my breath. It’s the last person we need to encounter today.
Gently, I clasp my hand over Blair’s, giving it a small squeeze. Her skin is as cold as ice, and it brings me nothing but uneasiness. Her hand trembles beneath mine, and I’m contemplating our next steps.
She’s yet to acknowledge my presence, but she knows I’m here. I can feel it. She’s clinging to me like she’s terrified I’ll disappear. While having her skin touch mine, I crouch down, leveling my eyes with hers. Despite my silent efforts, she’s not moving her gaze.
She’s barely blinking, her pretty eyes inflating with tears.
“Blair,”
I whisper. “We need to leave right now. He can’t see you.”
The thought of him seeing her is enough for me to bloat with suppressed rage. There was a point in time where he was going to find out that Blair Hawke is alive and there to take him to the pits of Hell he forced her to experience, but this is too soon.
She isn’t ready.
Blair is trembling at the mere sight of him, even though he’s across the park, oblivious to her. He’s speaking on the phone, with two of his security guards standing closely behind him. From his body language, it’s not hard to understand that the conversation is making him less than happy.
He stops walking, screams into the phone, then cuts the call off. Desperately, he’s trying to avoid the attention of other people and to calm himself down, which isn’t proving to be very helpful.
If I have to guess, I’d guess that it has something to do with the small USB drive I gave his little friend, Nelson Adams. From the inside sources, both Adams and Simmons are distraught, trying to reach my family and me, but it’s been unsuccessful. Being in this line of work brought a lot of enemies but also brought a lot of contacts and connections that Mom and Dad often use.
Still frozen in place, Blair tears her eyes away from Paul Simmons and focuses them on me, silently seeking comfort. I forcefully soften my gaze, trying to relax a little, despite wanting nothing more than to go and kill the motherfucker right now and right here.
“Baby, if he sees you, it will destroy you,”
I whisper, trying to remain calm and collected, despite the storm brewing inside me.
Blair remains unresponsive to my voice, and it irks me. If she goes to that dark place right now, out in the open, it’s there for everyone to witness. And more importantly, it’s right there for the motherfucker to see and use against her.
Why the fuck is he here in the first place?
For a politician who’s going to start his campaign soon, he’s spending a lot of time in public. This park, in particular, despite being in a good neighborhood, has nothing great to offer. Aside from the park, there are a few boutiques, coffee shops, hotels, and restaurants located nearby.
That’s when it hits me.
Across the park, down the street, is a hotel. It’s very old, luxurious, and too expensive. It’s the most common place for wealthy people to bring their mistresses in, as it guarantees privacy.
Blair’s sharp intake of breath pushes all the other thoughts to the side. She gasps for air, struggling to breathe while tears freely stream down her cheeks. My sole focus is her face, stained with tears as her bottom lip quivers. Her grip on my sleeve hardens, too terrified to let go.
I glance back at Simmons, and in that moment, my entire world starts falling apart.
He’s staring directly at Blair.
The motherfucker is still too far, yet closer than where he was originally standing. Just like Blair, he’s frozen in place, confused. Undoubtedly, he recognized her. She might’ve changed her hair, but those eyes remained the same.
The security is still behind him, prepared and waiting for instructions.
The night is getting darker and darker, much colder, and soon enough, everything around is vacant. I don’t know how long we spent there, just staring at each other. Not a single soul is to be seen, the cold evening of New York pushing its citizens inside.
“We need to go, butterfly.”
I raise my voice enough for Blair to hear.
“Arlo,”
despite her appearance, her voice is calm. “I can’t move.”
“I know it’s a shock. I didn’t expect you’d–”
“No. I mean, I quite literally cannot move, Arlo.”
To shield her from the burning gaze of the motherfucker, I rise to my feet and stand in front of her. She’s looking through me, and no matter how immersed I am in Blair’s appearance and thinking of how to get her out of this place safely, I don’t miss the sudden shift in the air.
The smallest hairs on my neck stand up, the atmosphere and tension getting thicker.
“I’ll carry you,”
I offer. “May I?”
Instead of verbally responding, she nods.
Softly, I picked her up, bridal style, hugging her body closely to mine. As if sensing something, Arson jumps on Blair’s stomach, and I end up carrying them both.
Something bad is about to go down, and I have to protect her, no matter how it ends for me. She’s someone worth saving, deserving of being someone’s object of protection – and she’s mine. Not a single strand of her hair will be missing, even if it means I’ll end up dying.
For Blair, I’m willing to jump into the lion’s den and never see the light of day again if it means I’ll ensure her safety.
Blair brings her head closer to my chest, shivering in my arms. Her body is stone cold, and she’s barely moving, except for the occasional snuggle into my chest.
How everything else happened, I’m not sure.
Gunshots echo all around us, aiming to take us both down. With everything I have in me, I suppress the need to whip out my gun and kill all of them. If anything’s possible – it’s that I don’t miss. I’ve never missed a target; I haven’t missed since the first time I held a gun, and these pests seem to be begging for me to take their miserable, pathetic lives.
“What’s happening?”
Blair asks, her voice cracking.
“Don’t look, and just focus on me.”
I bring her out of the park, but the gunshots follow us. My bike’s parked too far, and in this state, I’m not going to be able to drive Blair and Arson safely back home. Instead, I pull my phone out and send Dad an SOS text.
Truth be told, I could just leave Blair here, hidden, and go deal with them.
But I don’t want to leave her alone. She’s scared.
Undoubtedly, by morning, all evidence of the shooting will be wiped off the face of the Earth. However, if I were to even fire a single bullet their way, they’d somehow try to pin everything on me, and I can’t risk it.
I shield Blair from the rain of bullets, holding her tightly against me. They don’t follow us, and as soon as we’re out of the park, the shooting stops.
“Are they following us?”
Blair’s voice is a mere whisper.
My vision starts getting blurry, and I shake it off. The big car that Dad sent parks right in front of us, and I pull the back door open, gently putting Blair inside, with Arson jumping off and going to the front seat, treating this vehicle as her own.
“No, butterfly,”
I reassure. “They’re not following us.”
I sit in the backseat with her, and that’s when the ache of my abdomen starts spreading through my body. Blair’s words are muffled, and black dots appear in my vision. Once the car drives off, I close my eyes. This just proves that this isn’t a situation to be taken lightly and that it could’ve cost me my life had I not moved at the last second.
Blair’s scream follows me into the darkness.