Chapter Nine
No, no, no! He’s not going to get me.
I thrash and flail as a heavy hand comes down on my mouth. I know it’s him. It’s Ron, and he’s come back to make me pay for disrupting his fun. After I saw the reaction that he had to my mother and me, I knew that he’d come for me.
My right fist hooks the side of someone’s face, and a low grunt escapes from them. It doesn’tsound like Ron, and as strong arms force me up into a sitting position, my eyes finally flutter open…
I can’t fucking breathe.
Lips quivering beneath his hand, I take in the sight of the familiar yet somewhat foreign face of the man who fucking destroyed my heart. His dark brown, almost black eyes, still have the same golden flecks, and under the moonlight streaming through the window, I can make out the sharpness of his jaw and perfectly masculine nose.
Those lips.
I’ve always been slightly obsessed with how his full lips added softness to his masculine chiseled features.
Aiden.
What a confusing surprise.
“Sara, we have to go,” he says in a rough whisper.
For a moment, I’m frozen, stuck there in the shock of his presence. The sound of my name on his lips sends my heart rate into chaos as if each syllable carries a weight. His voice is deeper now. His cologne permeates the air, and while slightly different—more expensive—it’s still a similar scent. His soft brown hair is shorter than before but still long enough to be slicked back. He’s older, but he wears the age better than I ever imagined…
“Sara, come on.” He tugs me upward again, and I go rigid. The realization finally slams into my chest as my heart shatters.
I’m not going anywhere with this man. Not in the middle of the night. Not ever. I rear back and go to punch him again, but he’s faster than me, blocking it with his shoulder. I try to scream, but he clamps his hand down even harder.
“Stop it,” he growls, his face etched with frustration. “Get the fuck up, so we can leave. We can’t stay here.”
My eyes widen, and I let out a hissing breath. What the hell is he talking about? He can’t stay here. I have to stay here to protect the girls. He should understand that, considering he was once in this house himself. And that thought infuriates me.
So I fight harder. I bite down on the palm of his hand, and his body tenses but shows no weakness. His face doesn”t even flinch. Aiden is a brute of a man in stature, and it shows as he finally hauls me up and right off the edge of the bed.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Aiden sneers, slightly amused, in a whispery tone. “I’m here. I’m back to help you escape from this place.”
Wild anger thrums through my body. He’s too fucking late. I had to take care of myself. Without him. Each day for the last seven years was nothing but a battle to survive. I don’t need his protection anymore. And yet, he continues to drag me toward… the window. The open window.
He’s been coming here.
My mouth grows dry. My body feels weak, and then the adrenaline shoots through me like a drug. I plant my feet, and Aiden lets out a sigh. He shifts, and no amount of flailing seems to faze him in the slightest. In fact, he seems annoyed with me. He adjusts himself, placing his body behind mine.
Being glued to the spot forces us against each other. His hand is still over my mouth, and my eyes scan the room wildly. A sliver of black catches my attention, and there, lying on my desk, is a shotgun.
“I’ll let you speak as soon as we get out of here,” Aiden says to me, pressing his body into mine. As he does, I feel him against my backside. I fight the urge not to rub against his erection, though the fact that he’s hard while trying to kidnap me should be concerning.
But I still feel the urge. In fact, if I think about it too hard, I start to feel much more than just anger. So, I don’t think about it. I don’t think about what we had or how much I fucking missed him. All I think about is the fact that he’s been creeping in my room, which means…
Oh. My. God.
He shoves me forward, and I would’ve faceplanted if it weren’t for his firm grasp. I’m starting to sweat beneath his hand, and I want more than anything to be able to speak. But what would I say?
“You’re going to go straight out the window, and if you even think about running, I’ll make you regret it, Sara.” I blink at the hostility in his voice. He reaches around me as we make it to the desk, grabbing the shotgun. A flicker of heat flashes in his eyes. “You scream, and I’ll ensure you’re fucked in front of your entire family.”
My cheeks grow flaming hot at the thought, and as his hand drops from my face. I consider screaming… but I don’t. I release a frustrated breath, but I obey and crawl over my desk, then drop down out of my window. My bare feet hit the grass, and the sound of my ragged breaths seem like cannon shots in the still night.
I take in the ornate, manicured backyard. It’s gorgeous under the moonlight, but the moment my gaze hits the pool house, I feel sick.
“I can’t leave them,” I choke out, spinning around to see Aiden, now standing with a gun pointed at me. “I can’t.”
“Ron won’t hurt them.”
“Yes, he will,” I argue, my voice barely audible. I should be screaming. I should be losing it on Aiden—but instead, I’m standing here having a civilized conversation like I don’t fucking hate him and there’s not some sort of gangster shotgun pointed at me.
“He’s dead.”
Aiden’s deep voice sends a shiver through my body, and it’s unwanted. I hate the way he’s affecting me. I hate the fact he’s standing here, commanding attention with everything about him and that he seems to be under the impression that Ron is dead.
“He’s not.”
“Sara, I just fucking murdered him,” Aiden snaps, taking a step toward me, the gun still pointed at me. “And now, we’re leaving. I’m taking you home.”
“You sound batshit crazy,” I shoot back at him, folding my arms across my chest to hide how hard my hands are shaking. “You need to go.” As the words leave my lips, I finally see it—a spray of deep crimson across his face.
Blood splatter.
I shake my head. No, this cannot be happening.
“Sara, don’t make me do something I don’t want to.” His words are careful as he inches toward me. “We can talk all this out in the car.”
“You’re not taking me anywhere,” I croak, stumbling backward. I’m terrified to look away from him, but I’m terrified to look at him, too. I lose my footing and crash to the ground, my ass thudding against grass.
“Damnit,” he mutters, and within seconds, he’s scooping me up in his muscled arms, clutching me painfully and carrying me right out of the yard. “If you wanna fight, we can fight when we get home.”
Home?
I don’t know if it’s the shock or the heartache, but I can’t bring myself to do anything. I’m a worthless fighter, obviously. I should be screaming. Or crying. But nothing is coming out. I should be borderline embarrassed. Except I don’t feel that either.
I feel nothing.
His chest feels hard against me like a solid wall of muscle, and the dark hoodie is soft against my skin. My pajamas are thin cotton, and his heat sends unwanted shivers rolling through my body. It feels so wrong, but I can’t move.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to get you home,” he breathes out in a raspy tone. “I’ve been waiting for you. I’ve always fucking waited for you.”
You left me. You disappeared.
No words pass my lips. Not as the house leaves my sight. Not as he tosses me into the passenger seat and buckles me in. He slams the car door, and I don’t realize until I’m leaning against the black leather that I’m sitting in a fucking luxury car.
What the hell is this? Since when can Aiden afford a car like this?
It crosses my mind to bolt right then and there, but the sight of my old love walking around the front of the car has my head spinning. The headlights shine on the blood that I now see for certain is streaked across his face.
He murdered Ron.
I should be appalled. Or something. But instead, the numbness shifts to sick relief. My greatest fear is gone—but Aiden is back. The rumors were true. Almost a fucking decade later.
“I expected you to be more excited to see me, but I guess it could’ve been worse,” he says, pulling the car away from the curb.
“They’re going to think I killed him.”
“No, they won’t. They’re going to think he killed himself.”
“Not my stepfather,” I shoot back at him, scooting myself so that my back is against the door panel of the car. The seatbelt cuts into my body in a painful way at this angle, but I need as much distance as I can from this man.
“Your stepfather is a twat,” he grunts, rolling his eyes. “He’ll get over it.”
“My mother and the girls—” I swallow hard.
“Will be fine once the dust settles.”
“They’re going to think I abandoned them.” Those words finally manage to scuff against the numbness, bringing forth despair and panic. “I can’t let them think that.” I jump to the side and grab for the handle of the door.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Aiden erupts, his arm shooting across me as the door jars. “You’re going to kill yourself.” There’s no true concern in his voice, and within moments, he’s veered off to the side of the road.
I try to pull myself from his strong hold, but I can’t. Aiden uses his free hand to unbuckle his own seatbelt, and then he digs into his hoodie pocket. I watch in horror as he retrieves zip ties.
“No—”
“Just for the ride.” He grips my wrists so painfully I let out a cry, and something flashes across his face, but I can’t decipher it. I can’t decide if I hate this new Aiden, but I do know one thing…
He fucking terrifies me into submission.
Clearly, I’ve learned that I just bow down like a beat dog in an emergency situation, and so my escape will have to be made after careful contemplation. Maybe letting Aiden think that I’m weak will work in my favor. I’ll catch him when his guard is down, and then I’ll make a run for it.
“I hate doing this,” he mutters, pulling them so tight that I wince. “I never wanted it to go like this. I thought you might be a little troublesome, but not like this.”
“Troublesome,” I echo his words, staring down at the binding around my wrists. What the fuck is this? Is he taking me somewhere to kill me? Is this how it’s all supposed to end for me? Some psycho childhood lover finally mentally breaks and whisks me away to my death?
I blink a few times in the darkness. This is how my life is going to end. My gaze flicks over to Aiden, sitting in the driver’s seat. I hate how fucking handsome he is—even with the blood on his face. His hands have tattoos covering them, but I can’t make them out in the dark. He’s got a shadow of facial hair that makes him look almost… sophisticated. This can’t be the Aiden I knew before.
“I look different, I know,” he grumbles, like he thinks I hate what I see. And to some degree, I do. But it’s only because of how fucking hot he is, muscular, tatted, and all fucking grown up.
But murderous. And dangerous.
He left me. Nothing will ever change the fact that he left me.
Fuck you, Aiden. When the shock passes, you’ll see.